Every Scandalous Secret (10 page)

“Do not imagine that my rejection of you implies I would reject all men. You know I’m here looking for a man who shares my interests—do you not think Roger Eastfield would be included in that group?”

“Then you take risks,” he said slowly.

“I do.” She put her nose in the air before disappearing behind her painting.

“I’ll remember that.”

Though he wanted to continue to confuse Susanna with his questions, the wall at his back radiated an ancient coldness. He found himself a bit too anxious to be done modeling for her and stopped distracting her.

When at last she began to pack away her supplies, he approached her. “May I see what you’ve done?”

“If you’d like,” she said.

He studied her work, impressed at how she’d captured the beauty of the countryside, the ancient exoticness of the Roman antiquities, even the lines of his body, giving the impression of lazy satisfaction.

But she hadn’t given him a face.

He sent her a questioning look.

She shrugged. “I’ll finish it someday.”

“I’m in no hurry today.”

“My hand is tired. Perhaps another time. I’d thank you, but since I didn’t ask for your help . . .”

“You just don’t want anyone to know I was your model.”

“You may think that if you’d like.”

But he wasn’t really sure what to think.

Chapter 7

T
o Susanna’s surprise, after the impromptu modeling session, Mr. Wade kept his distance for the rest of the day. She was able to go for a leisurely ride before dinner with Mr. Tyler, and although she knew Mr. Wade saw them leaving, he didn’t insist on accompanying them.

It would have been an utterly pleasant late afternoon, full of good conversation—and Mr. Tyler was so eager to talk!—except for one thing: thoughts of Mr. Wade.

When he was near her, she had to be so alert, prepared to verbally duel with him. It wasn’t the same as her easy conversations with Mr. Tyler; there was an element of danger, of triumph whenever she scored a clever riposte. And she and Mr. Wade were hardly debating intellectual theories!

But then she remembered his discussion of the antiquities with Lord Bramfield, and the way he knew about species classification though he’d turned her curiosity aside. Very puzzling that he seemed far more intelligent than he let on. Why would a man who cared so little what Society thought of him feel it necessary to hide part of himself? And then he’d even protected her reputation against the other men where that painting was concerned.

And Mr. Wade made her so very conscious of her womanhood. It was his lips she looked at, his boldness that moved her. She wanted to put her fingers in his hair as if she could sort all the many colors of dark and light. She liked the way the fabric of his shirt folded at his elbow, allowing a glimpse of the shape of his biceps.

She was weak, just like every other woman he flirted with—drawn to his rakish demeanor and handsome looks. Whatever woman he finally deigned to marry would have no peace of mind. He treated all women the same, and when he grew bored with the marriage . . .

She shuddered, and her horse gave a little dance sideways.

“Miss Leland?” Mr. Tyler said, watching her closely. “Are you catching a chill?”

She realized she’d let her mind drift away from him. Mortified, she smiled, and said, “I guess the sun is beginning to set.”

“We should return to dress for dinner,” he agreed companionably. “My mother says that one should always follow the host’s rules.”

He mentioned his mother often, but how could Susanna not respect a dutiful son? She experienced no wild flights of emotion, of yearning—and she liked that. It made her feel comfortable, secure, unlike how crazily her emotions careened when she was with Mr. Wade.

And Mr. Tyler must be interested in her, for that night, he watched her from across the drawing room as they played charades.

Mr. Wade did, too, and it felt totally unreal to have
two
men looking at her. Caroline kept sending her a wide-eyed gaze whenever she thought no one was looking, and Susanna could only shrug. She had both an introverted scientist and a handsome scoundrel following her about—but only one was welcome.

The rest of the men seemed to be discussing Mr. Wade’s luck at cards the previous night. Apparently, he’d relieved everyone of their money, and she wondered how much practice such a feat took.

Lady Bramfield and Mrs. Norton kept their heads together as they talked and watched the interest in Susanna. Susanna told herself they were simply jealous their own daughters did not have two gentlemen vying for their attention. Although their daughters were welcome to Leo Wade.

Though Mr. Wade might have a reputation that led some to look down upon him, no one denied his charm or the pleasure of his company as he circled through the guests. While Susanna sat with Miss Norton, both working on their embroidery, Leo paused behind their sofa and bent to look over their shoulders.

Miss Norton poked her finger with a needle and quickly put it to her mouth, eyeing Mr. Wade with wide eyes.

He studied her embroidery with a critical eye. “Miss Norton, lovely colors you’ve chosen for a pastoral scene. I see you’ve just begun a rainbow.”

While the young lady nodded, Susanna frowned, wondering at Mr. Wade’s intent.

“Did you know you have the colors of the rainbow lined up incorrectly?” he asked. “The order is red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.”

He had them memorized? Susanna thought in disbelief.

Miss Norton blinked up at him as if stunned. “How do you know this, sir?”

“Besides looking at one displayed across the sky, I’ve also seen one formed by passing light through a piece of shaped glass.”

While Miss Norton made him explain this achievement, Susanna tried not to frown. He must have had a superb governess. Yet she wouldn’t have imagined it would be easy to get Mr. Wade to memorize something so useless in a gentleman’s daily life.

When the ladies began to sing, Susanna demurred, but she did play several selections for the guests. She did not have a terrible voice, but it had always seemed so uncomfortable to display one’s talent before a group of people not one’s family.

When she was accepting the applause of the guests, she noticed Mr. Wade step out into the corridor. She thought nothing of it until she saw Miss Randolph looking almost guilty as she left the room, following Mr. Wade.

A planned assignation? Miss Randolph was only recently come out, and her innocence was a mask for—more innocence, regardless of the way she stared at Mr. Wade with awe when he wasn’t looking.

But the girl didn’t know what Mr. Wade was like; even her parents seemed to like him, as if they hadn’t heard the stories. And somehow, because Miss Randolph was one of her students, Susanna felt a sense of responsibility. Susanna was older, and though far from experienced, she was learning quickly.

And Mr. Wade had insisted he did not harm innocents. She had to make certain that was true.

When Lady May began to sing in her pure, captivating soprano, Susanna was able to slip away from the rapt audience and down the corridor. She’d seen both Mr. Wade and Miss Randolph go left, toward the back of the house—toward the conservatory. Susanna marched there with purpose, determined to stop Mr. Wade from leading the girl on.

But when she stepped foot into the humid warmth of the indoor garden, she saw them almost immediately, on the far side of the fountain. And they were kissing.

Susanna wasn’t surprised by his behavior, but by her own dismay. She knew he was hardly courting her—he wanted something from her, a wager, a good time. But it seemed . . . shameful to her to kiss two different women.

But not to him. Obviously, not to him. And he had no problem lying to her about his typical behavior either.

Angry at her own naïveté where he was concerned, she turned on her heel and walked out. She hadn’t gone more than a half dozen paces when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Randolph heading for the conservatory.

Susanna came to a stop, fraught with indecision.

Mr. Wade would be caught at last for his bad behavior.

And poor Miss Randolph might be stuck married to such a cad for life.

“Susanna!” Mrs. Randolph said in her open, friendly voice. “I must say again how talented you are on the piano.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Susanna said, trying not to look over her shoulder into the conservatory.

What was she supposed to do? If the Randolphs saw what their daughter was doing, everyone’s lives would change irrevocably.

“The creative arts must come easily to you,” Mr. Randolph said. “Our daughter compliments your painting talents constantly. We greatly appreciate you taking her under your wing.”

That made the decision easy. Susanna turned and walked with them toward the conservatory. As they entered the room, she spoke as loudly as she dared. “There is nothing to thank me for! Miss Randolph is a good girl, with sense and talents of her own.”

“We’re not certain where she went,” Mrs. Randolph said, frowning.

They all looked out over the ferns and trees but saw no one. Susanna’s tense shoulders bowed a bit in relief.

“She did say she’d meet us here, Mr. Randolph, didn’t she?” his wife asked.

Meet them in the conservatory? Susanna thought, feeling a bit ill. Did that mean Miss Randolph
planned
to be caught in a compromising position with Mr. Wade? Or was she just carried away by his mere presence?

Once Susanna would have scoffed at such a notion, but she didn’t feel so superior anymore.

“She wanted to show us something,” Mr. Randolph said. He smiled beneath his bushy mustache at Susanna. “She spends hours in our gardens at home.”

“Mama?” Miss Randolph appeared on a far path and followed it around the fountain. Brightly, she said, “Isn’t it beautiful here?” She turned to Susanna. “Hello, Miss Leland. Are you joining my parents and me for a tour of this lovely garden?”

“No, I simply encountered your parents in the hall.” Susanna resisted the urge to look past the girl. Where had Mr. Wade gone? Was he hiding, or was there another door to escape through? At least he hadn’t allowed Miss Randolph to be shamed before her family, whatever fool notions the girl might have.

“I’ll leave you to your tour,” Susanna said. “Good night!”

I
n the heat and darkness of the summer night, Leo stood on the balcony and stared through the open French doors into Susanna’s room. Although the moon spilled onto her carpet, it left her bed a murky shadow in the far corner.

He stepped inside and waited for his eyes to adjust. Susanna was a dim form in a white nightgown, sprawled across the sheets but without a counterpane or blankets in the heat.

She suddenly gasped and sat upright. “Who—Mr. Wade!”

He was used to sneaking into bedrooms and didn’t startle easily. She was a blur in the darkness as she grabbed her dressing gown from the foot of the bed and hurriedly donned it. He watched in amusement though his smile faded as she cinched the garment at her waist. Her hips were rounder, more lush than he’d imagined, and he thought again of that painting. As she came into the moonlight, the long braid of her auburn hair fell over her shoulder.

Clutching the dressing gown at her neck, she whispered, “You must leave at once. Didn’t your bachelor ways almost end tonight? Why would you risk that again?”

“Ah, so you did know that I was there. Then it’s proper that I came to thank you.”

“You could have done that tomorrow,” she answered with a sigh.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why—dreams of Miss Randolph?”

“Are you jealous?” he asked, his smile broadening into a grin. This was better than he’d thought.

“Jealous? Perhaps I was leading the Randolphs right to you.” She whirled away from him and went to the door, listening.

“It’s long after midnight, Susanna. No one will hear us. And I
know
you weren’t leading them to me. I could hear your conversation with them as if you’d shouted. You were warning me.”

“I was warning Miss Randolph.”

“Perhaps I’m the one who needed to be warned about the innocent Miss Randolph.
She
kissed
me,
not the other way around.” He scratched his head. “I was truly stunned. I know you won’t believe me . . .” His voice trailed off as he studied her.

She looked away from him, her gaze unfocused. “I—I must confess that I have to believe you.”

“I beg your pardon? Why would you believe
me,
of all people?”

“Not used to people having confidence in you, Mr. Wade? How sad for you.”

“You can stop the pity and explain how I have not sunk in your estimation.”

She sighed. “Her parents told me she asked them to meet her there.”

His eyebrows rose. “You don’t say? And she told me she followed me because she had to speak to me. Not quite so innocent, is she?”

“Or perhaps she’s innocent—and foolish all at the same time. After all, it seems she settled on
you
as a husband.”

He smiled and reached to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She froze, watching him intently. But she didn’t run away.

“Some people think me a good catch,” he said.

“Some people consider your relationship to a viscount rather than your own suitability.”

He leaned over her. “What do you think, sweet Susanna?” He let his hands rest lightly on her shoulders.

“I think you need to leave.”

Her voice sounded breathless, uncertain, and that alone was enough to bring a part of him to complete attention.

“Or perhaps you wish it had been you I was kissing in the conservatory.”

Wrong words. She backed away.

“I have experienced your kiss, Mr. Wade, and I would not risk myself for it.”

“No? And you are such an expert?” He let his hands run gently down her arms until he could lift both hands before him. Then he turned them over and pressed his mouth to the center of one palm.

He heard her intake of breath, but she didn’t tug her hand away. He did the same to the other palm, then met her wide-eyed gaze as he let his tongue touch her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Tasting you.” He trailed his mouth slowly up her arm to her elbow, closer and closer to her body.