Invitation to Scandal (20 page)
Read Invitation to Scandal Online
Authors: Bronwen Evans
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General
Rufus’s mood darkened further as he acknowledged his own eagerness at seeing the totally unsuitable Miss Kerrich.
His mouth set. Enough foolishness. His mother depended on him to restore their good name. Only then could he give up the life of espionage and, for once, consider his own dreams and desires.
What worried him was that he couldn’t remember what they were.
Fighting to control his emotions, he stood for a moment, perched half out of the carriage, the rain forgotten, tugging his cuffs down and straightening his coat. Then he alighted and walked slowly up the steps and through the door.
The rain ran off his coat, and once free of the garment, he shook away the remaining dampness from his clothes. He handed his coat to the doorman and heard Rheda’s voice. The soft husky tones sent a shiver down his spine. As he moved closer to the receiving line he caught glimpses of apricot silk draping seductive curves. The night’s earlier restlessness returned. He must remember that tonight was not about the pleasure of being in a woman’s company. It was about redemption—for him and the Strathmore name.
Rheda’s heart was pounding so hard she felt sure the ladies next to her would hear it. Lord Strathmore was sinfully handsome in his formal evening wear. The task she’d set herself tonight made her stomach churn in a heady mixture of fear and desire.
She followed his movement around the room over the top of her open fan, which she waved violently, trying to cool down. She swallowed. She knew in all likelihood there would be only one way to ensure she had his undivided attention. She closed her fan, not wishing to advertise her hand’s tremble.
How far would she have to go to save her brother? Would she have to sacrifice all of herself to hold his attention? Her pulse tripped. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but she hoped so. She wanted to make love to the handsome viscount.
She glanced around the ballroom. Her nerves were making her look for a way to escape, but her path was set for the night. Her brother was unaware of the risk she would take to keep their secret. If Daniel found out, she could have her plan backfire, giving her brother just the ammunition he needed to see her betrothed. He would love to see her married to a viscount. This viscount.
Deep in thought, she did not notice Jamieson at her side until he spoke. “Excuse me, Miss Kerrich, your brother requests a private word in the library.”
She gave a convincing smile, concealing her disquiet from her guests. “What now, Jamie? Has he lost his cheroot case again?” With a toss of her gloved hand, she exclaimed to her friends, “And they call us the dizzy ones! Please excuse me while I see to my brother’s latest non-emergency.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried Jamieson out of the ballroom. They climbed the stairs to the library, to the strains of the minuet echoing throughout the house.
She quietly hissed to Jamieson following behind. “What trouble has my brother got into now? It has to be urgent—Daniel told me to keep an eye on Lord Strathmore. I can hardly do that if I am not in the ballroom.”
Jamieson responded calmly. “We have a spot of trouble. I will let his lordship explain.” And he pushed open the library door.
She crossed the threshold and saw Daniel pacing the new Persian carpet, fists clenched at his side and his face set like the grim reaper. Upon seeing her, Daniel walked over and gripped her hands with his.
“Rhe, we’re in trouble.”
Although she saw the makings of a disaster in his eyes, she tried not to show her distress. Slipping her hands free, she led him to the settee by the fireplace, calmly sat down, and motioned for him to do the same. “Now, tell me what the problem is.”
“Davidson’s fallen off his horse and broken his leg. He cannot organize the run tonight. I am going to have to slip away and bring the boat in.”
She pressed her hand against her stomach. “Is it too late to cancel?”
“Yes. The boat will have left France already. Damn, tonight of all nights. This was supposed to prove we weren’t involved. I was to be in full view of Lord Strathmore. If he notices I am missing our carefully laid plan is all for nothing.” Daniel stood and moved to the fireplace and gripped the mantelpiece. Glanced at the clock. “What should I do, Rhe?”
She closed her eyes so she could concentrate. After a moment she opened them, took a breath, and said, “You will proceed as planned, but use the tunnel to the beach so you can move about unseen. Until you leave I suggest you pretend to have drunk too much. If anyone misses you I can always say you have gone to lie down. Can you signal the boat to move farther down the coast?”
Daniel nodded.
“Good, then I suggest we use the southernmost cavern. If anyone is waiting for you, they won’t expect that—they will think it is too rocky to land there in a storm. There is less chance of being seen.”
She rose and moved to the library’s huge window to draw back the drapes. “The storm is picking up. Daniel, please be careful. I cannot lose you.”
He walked to the window and hugged her. “I will be as quick as I can. Will you be all right here on your own? I have to take Jamieson with me.”
“Of course.” She gave him a reassuring squeeze and a bright smile. “I have some business to attend to. I must ensure Lord Strathmore is looked after.” Now it was doubly imperative she did not let the viscount out of her sight. Her brother had to remain safe. She would have to keep Lord Strathmore busy.
Although Rufus smiled politely, bore his share of dances with no sign of ill humor, and never exposed his true churning state of mind, his temper was rising from simmering to boiling point. Now he could not find the baron anywhere; had they lost him?
He approached Stephen and said, “Worthington, a private word if I may?”
They withdrew a small distance from the throng.
“Have you seen the baron?” he asked. “He has been gone for over an hour.”
“He left to oversee some preparations on the estate due to the weather, but he should have been back by now.” Stephen hesitated. “I knew the storm would be trouble.”
Rufus had checked everywhere in the manor except the bedchambers. He lifted his head upward, assessing the likelihood of the baron being above. “Stay in the ballroom. I will see if I can find him above stairs.”
The thought of Rheda’s bedchamber made his rake’s instincts flare to life. He knew he should be focused on the trap he and his men had set tonight, but in truth, the moment he’d set eyes on Rheda in that gown, an ache of desire fiercer than any he’d ever felt throbbed in his groin and overrode all common sense.
Standing next to her brother in the receiving line, she’d looked like an angel. He’d almost forgotten to breathe. God, he wanted her the minute she’d smiled a warm welcome.
Rheda. Rheda had looked like a shimmering goddess, dressed in pale apricot. Her lustrous fair hair glinted as the candlelight caught the threads of gold in her chignon piled high on her head, emphasizing her long slender neck. Tonight she looked like any other refined lady of the
ton
. Only a thousand times more beautiful.
ton
. Only a thousand times more beautiful.
His fingers itched to touch and stroke the fine, milky perfection of her skin. And the need to press his lips to the pulse he saw racing at the base of her throat almost overwhelmed him.
He remembered her pliant from the cliff top and sated in his arms. No simpering girl, Miss Rheda Kerrich was definitely a woman, definitely all woman—but definitely not for him.
Tonight she’d been the perfect hostess, witty, engaging, and demure, with an air of unconcealed confidence about her. Was she playing in her brother’s deadly game? Was she being used to unbalance and distract him from his true mission?
If so, her plan was working. Awareness of her coated his skin like a fitted glove. His highly developed senses for members of the opposite sex were galloping out of control. She looked more demure, completely virginal, the perfect English rose. Yet he knew her, understood her character, and wouldn’t underestimate her brain. He’d do well to remember even roses had thorns.
Steeling himself against the desire racing through his already on-edge body, he unlatched her door and stepped into her bedchamber.
The room was stifling. The only light came from a fire roaring in the grate. At first glance the room appeared empty. Rufus made to back out and close the door when a movement in the shadows to his left stopped him in his tracks.
“I thought you’d never find me.”
Her voice was soft, sweet, and teased over his skin like a feather, exciting every inch of him. He should have retreated, but it was too late now. He stepped farther into the room and closed the door, forgetting everything except the silken-clothed vision before him.
She moved toward him until her breasts pressed his chest directly where he felt his heart pounding. He looked down her gown into the valley between her breasts and desire erupted. She rose up and brushed her lips over his, her fingers twining in his hair, and he let her have her way, powerless to stop her.
Her eyes locked with his, and he couldn’t understand the message flashing in their emerald depths. All he could do was drink in their sparkling splendor.
He was so enchanted that he was completely unprepared for what happened next. She began maneuvering him toward the fire. He felt his boots stumble against something on the floor, and before he could blink, she gave his chest a firm shove. He landed on his back, atop fur throws, with Rheda straddling his thighs; her dress was rucked up her legs, her breasts tantalizingly close to his mouth.
His libido went off like a cannon, powerful and punishing, and before he could think better of it he reached for her and dragged her more firmly atop him for a mind-blowing kiss.
Yet, he was to be denied. Rheda sat up, straddling his waist, her hands holding his wrists in her gentle but firm grip.
“If I remember correctly, you were eager to teach me to ride,” she said, her voice a whispered aphrodisiac. “Tonight it is my turn to have my wicked way with you. You’re not the only one who wishes to seduce for information.” She let go of one wrist and stroked a finger across his lips. “Why for instance are you really in Deal?”
Rufus opened his mouth to answer, and her finger slipped inside. His traitorous mouth responded by clamping around her small digit, drawing it in farther and sucking firmly. She wriggled atop him, and his judgment clouded.
Excitement avalanched down his spine, and his body, already eager, leaped more prominently to attention. He could overpower her and stop her game at any time, but right now he preferred to play. He longed to see what she was up to and how far she’d go.
He relaxed back against the throws and let her finger withdraw from his mouth. He gave her a dazzling smile. “I find Deal an immensely pleasurable town.”
“We aim to please, my lord. Shall I demonstrate how accommodating we Dealites can be?”
She began to undo the buttons of his jacket and waistcoat. She indicated he should help, and he rose enough for her to slip the garments off his shoulders and pull them off his arms. Then she tugged his shirt over his head. Her gaze fastened on his bare torso, and she tentatively raised her hand to brush her fingers lightly over his chest, tracing the curve and dip of bone and muscle. His stomach clenched as he tried to hold still, tried to stop himself from reaching for her. He almost broke when with a slight moan she bent her head and let her tongue taste him.
He refused to give in to her torment. Closing his eyes he lay back, more than willing to indulge her. He was a consummate rake. He could control his passions when needed. At anytime he could reverse their positions.
He inwardly smiled at her tentative strokes over his skin. She seemed fascinated with his ribs and stomach, her touch almost like she was worshipping him. He’d give her a few more strokes, then he’d switch places.
He drew in a deep breath as her fingers grew bolder and trailed lower to pluck at the placket of his breeches. Despite his previous thought of taking control, he shifted to accommodate her small hand. He grew harder, if that was possible, and he wasn’t surprised when he felt air on the head of his lengthening shaft. With a mind of its own, there was no way it would not escape the confines of his clothing in its quest to be touched.
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