Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) (29 page)

“Obedient, am I? Say it again, please, Duke,” she taunted sweetly.

“Darling, you are as biddable as a tropical typhoon.”

“Humph. That’s better.” She freed the rogue to let him put on at least a few items of clothing. He pulled on a pair of loose linen Cossack trousers and, shirtless, donned a burgundy-colored banyan, which he left hanging untied.

She eyed his bare chest in possessive pleasure. He really was much too good-looking for any woman’s peace of mind.

When he was ready to go down to breakfast, he took her hand between his own and whisked her out of his chamber, leading her stealthily to the backstairs. After all, the servants might know she was there, but she did not really wish to face them if she didn’t have to. From there, they sneaked down to the first floor and dashed across the central corridor to the very pleasant morning room at the back of the house.

The morning room had pale yellow walls with arched windows, through which the clear morning sunshine streamed. Beyond those windows lay a charming view of the sculpted garden and the quaint elevated walkway crossing above it.

Since the morning room sat right next to the kitchen, the food would indeed arrive hot when it was brought to them. They sat down at a round table with cottage-style chairs. A selection of morning newspapers had already been procured and lay waiting on the sideboard, but Jason showed no interest in them, and Felicity was glad. She loved having his undivided attention.

When his old cook, Hannah, came in personally to ask what she could make for them, Felicity was suddenly seized with embarrassment about her brazen choice to spend the night with Jason, flouting all propriety. Oh, of course, the lower orders did that sort of thing all the time, she supposed, in their private lives. But granddaughters of marquesses were supposed to hold themselves to higher standards of behavior, even when they
could
get away with being slightly wicked.

On the other hand, Aunt Kirby would’ve been as pleased as punch that she had finally done something truly scandalous.

In any case, Felicity dropped her gaze and resorted to murmuring demurely that she’d be glad to eat whatever was put in front of her.

The plump old cook couldn’t have been kinder; indeed, Hannah was the soul of discretion. She clearly doted on her handsome young master and seemed eager to spoil them both.

Before long, Hannah carried in the large tray by herself. When still no other servants entered, Felicity realized the cook was going out of her way to spare her modesty—or what was left of it.

Deeply appreciative of the considerate gesture, though surely it was too much for one servant to do all by herself, she thanked the woman profusely.

Hannah set the teapot and covered dishes down before them. “It’s no trouble a’tall, milady,” she murmured, glancing from Felicity to Jason and back again, as though she could barely contain her exaltation over their pending match. “Is there anything else I can get for ye?”

“Thank you, we have everything we need, Hannah,” Jason told her with a smile, and Hannah left them alone to eat.

“She’s wonderful,” Felicity whispered after the cook had gone.

He nodded. “Hannah’s topnotch. She’s always taken good care of me, and I warn you now, her cooking is addictive. So, what’ve we got here?” He lifted the lids on the various dishes and started to serve them while Felicity poured the tea.

It wasn’t easy, considering her hands had only just stopped trembling after having to face a near-stranger who knew full well that she had just spent the night in the Duke of Scandal’s bed.

Jason must have noticed she was just a wee bit rattled, for he struck up an idle conversation, probably to distract her. “So what have you got planned for today?”

“Oh…I’m not sure. You?”

They chatted about nothing in particular while he finished heaping their plates with eggs and toast, sausage and beans.

Felicity removed the lid from the dainty sugar bowl but paused with the tiny silver sugar tongs in midair. “How do you take your tea, anyway? This is essential information for a lady to know about her future husband.”

“Maybe I should make you guess,” he said with a grin.

“You
are
in an especially roguish mood this morning, aren’t you?”

“Feeling my oats,” he admitted with a wink. “But that’s your fault.”

“Do you want sugar or not?” she insisted with an arch look in return. “Tell me quickly, or I’ll put whatever I want in and make you drink it anyway.”

“As long as you sweeten it with a kiss.” He leaned across the table and stole one.

But even as their smiling lips met, a sound from the direction of the entrance hall broke into their warm, playful bonding and stopped them both cold.

The front door creaked open and promptly banged shut.

“Anybody home?” a deep, strong, cheerful, and all-too-familiar voice called. “Ho, Netherford! I’m back!”

Jason and Felicity jolted apart with a gasp and stared at each other in shock for a heartbeat.

Woodcombe ran past the morning room doorway to the entrance hall as fast as his old legs could carry him. “Major Carvel! H-how very fine to see you, sir! His Grace will be so—surprised.”

“Will he? Good!” Peter said in a jovial tone, audibly clapping the old butler on the shoulder, which might have sent him flying across the entrance hall. “I just stepped off the ship half an hour ago. We docked in the Thames and I came straight here. Next stop, Great-Aunt Kirby’s. Must let my sister know I’m still alive.”

“Er, yes, sir,” they heard Woodcombe say.

Felicity sat motionless. With her stare locked on her lover, she found just enough of her voice to choke out a terrified “Oh my God.”

“It’s all right,” Jason forced out in a low tone, but the color had drained from his face. He rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the open doorway, then stopped in the middle of the room, as though debating with himself.

“Go shut the door!” she whispered. “He’ll kill you if he finds us!”

“I don’t want to lie to him!” Jason whispered back, looking distraught, while out in the entrance hall just a few yards down the central corridor, the thump of a heavy pack landing on the marble floor informed them that her brother was fully prepared to make himself at home in his best mate’s house.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Woodcombe,” Peter ordered Jason’s butler. “Go and wake the blackguard! I don’t care how many whores he’s with. If he can drag himself away from them, I daresay the esteemed patron of our expedition will be pleased to hear he’s now got a mountain named after him. Get up, you lazy sod!” Peter hollered cheerfully up the grand staircase, unaware. “Damn me, I’m starved. Something smells delicious! What’s Hannah got cooking this morning?”

“Er, Major!”

The familiar pounding of her brother’s boot heels striking the floor, coming ever closer, made Felicity consider hiding under the table. But thankfully, as Peter headed for the kitchen, a bevy of servants ran past the doorway of the morning room to intercept their friendly intruder and try to turn him in a different direction.

At least three footmen and a few maids gathered, and by the sound of it, they arrayed themselves in a defensive line across the corridor, barring Peter from going any farther.

She could hear them trying to act like they were merely happy to see him.

“M-Major Carvel! You’re back!”

“We’re so glad you’re safe.”

“Your trip must’ve been very exciting, sir.”

“D-did you make any new discoveries?”

“Did you get to see wild elephants?”

Despite their valiant efforts to distract the returning adventurer, Jason and Felicity were still stuck in the room, unless they fancied jumping out the window. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide, and when Jason glanced grimly at Felicity, she realized he did not intend to try.

“This is stupid,” he said in a taut voice. “I’m not going to lie to my best friend.”

“But he
won’t
be your best friend anymore if he finds the two of us like this!”

It was too late, though. Peter had already smelled a rat in the servants’ odd behavior.

“What’s going on, you lot?” he asked suspiciously.

“Please don’t do this,” Felicity begged Jason in a helpless whisper, but the duke stood strong and called firmly to his servants, “It’s all right! Let him in.”

“Netherford?” Peter called cheerfully, sounding all the more confused. “What, he’s already awake—at this hour? Astounding.”

“Morning room!” Jason yelled back.

The servants must have parted to let her brother pass. Felicity braced herself, standing behind the breakfast table, wearing naught but her chemise, her shiny new engagement ring, and Jason’s dressing gown. This she drew tighter around herself, as if it would help to shield her from her brother’s certain wrath.

She knew how bad this looked, and stood there mentally cursing herself. What if finding them this way knocked Peter back to how poorly he’d been doing before? It would be all their fault.

Out in the hallway, she could hear him brush past the well-meaning servants with a good-natured scoff.

Jason lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, then suddenly, there he was, her beloved big brother. The tall, rugged adventurer, suntanned and scruffy-jawed, with eyes matching the blue-green of her own.

He stepped into the doorway of the morning room wearing the same brown leather coat in which she had last seen him, except now it was worn and weather-beaten.

“Jason, your servants are acting damned strange…” he started, but his words trailed off as he spotted Felicity standing there. His bronzed face turned white.

She swallowed hard, trying to hide her dread. “Peter,” she greeted him with a nod. “Welcome home, brother.”

“What the—” He grabbed hold of the lintel and took a step back as though he had been punched in the stomach. For a second, he stared at her incredulously. “What are you doing here?” The words had barely escaped him when he realized the obvious answer to his own question. “Oh my God.”

“Peter—” she started.

“You!” Looking sickened by the realization, he turned murderously to Jason, his eyes narrowed to slashes. “What have you done to my little sister?”

# # #

It was actually pretty clear, though, Jason thought. Especially considering that the well-ravished beauty was wrapped in his dressing gown, her golden hair flowing loose around her shoulders, her face still glowing from their long night of love play.

Jason stood acutely aware of his own state of undress. He had pulled his trousers back on, thank God, but not his shirt. Instead he wore his banyan open down his chest and was too proud even to close it.

The time had come to own up.

To all of it.

Pete’s stunned gaze took in the scene before him, traveling over the two of them standing guiltily together with their eggs getting cold on the table between them.

“How could you?” he uttered as his stare returned to Jason in furious accusation. “You son of a bitch.”

“Easy,” Jason started, but the military man newly returned from the wild was used to solving problems the simplest way. He reached for his pistol and pointed it at him.

“Peter, no!” Felicity cried, rushing over to stand in front of her brother’s gun, her arms lifted. “It’s not Jason’s fault!”

“Oh yes, it is. Get behind me, you little hussy,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m taking you out of here.”

“You think I need rescue? Peter, by all that’s holy, put the gun away! Have you taken leave of your senses? He’s your best friend—and we’re in love!”

At last, her brother looked dazedly at his hand, as though barely aware of having drawn the weapon. The breath left his flared nostrils in seething fury, but he lowered the pistol to his side.

When he looked at Jason again, it was with daggers in his eyes. “I told you to stay away from my sister. Is this why you sent me away? So that as soon as I set sail, she’d be left unprotected and you could have your way with her?”

“If you really thought you’d left her unprotected, you should not have set sail,” Jason countered in a steely tone. “I protected her while you were gone, actually.”

“Gentlemen, please!” Felicity tried, but Pete shook his head with a low, bitter laugh.

“You villain.”

“Oh, come! Is that what you really think of me?” Jason burst out, his face reddening, his stomach in knots.

“It’s hard not to! Look at the two of you! I’m not blind!” Pete bellowed. “It’s more than obvious what you’ve been doing here! What, she actually spent the night with you? How long has this been going on? While I was away at the war, too?”

“Peter! Oh, for heaven’s sake. We are to be married! Look!” Felicity marched forward, lifting her hand to show him the gigantic engagement ring that had not yet been on her finger for twenty-four hours. “You see? I am going to be the next Duchess of Netherford. Isn’t that wonderful news?” she demanded, forcing him to focus on her words.

Pete stared at the ring, then furrowed his brow, apparently unconvinced. But he holstered his pistol. “Why? Are you pregnant?”

“Peter!” she cried.

“She’s not!” Jason bit out, though he knew he deserved that one.

Pete glared at his sister. “Why are you sleeping with him if you aren’t married yet? Our mother raised you better than that! I suppose this is our aunt’s influence on you.” He shook his head in withering disapproval. “Oh, Felicity. I always knew you had a weakness for this one, but after I warned you so many times how he treats women, how could you let him seduce you—”

“Actually,” she cut him off, “I’d say it was pretty well mutual, Peter. We seduced each other. And I will not apologize for that. I love him. I always have.” She took a step closer, striving to calm her brother’s fury. “Peter, try to understand. Jason and I are to be married. I’d hope you could be happy for us.”

He eyed her in stunned, brooding disapproval. “Happy?”

“Jason was there for me when I needed him. You were on the other side of the world, as usual.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jason, as though seeking reassurance.