Simply Scandalous (8 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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Violet drew an unsteady breath. “I'm not quite that small-minded or vindictive.”
“You want money, then, instead?”
She rose to her feet and stared down at him. “I
wanted
to have a reasonable conversation with you, Mr. Ross, but that seems to be impossible. I'll wish you good night.”
He reached out and locked his fingers around her wrist. “Sit down.”
“Don't tell me what to do.”
Without thinking, she tossed the remains of the glass of wine she held right in his face. His sudden intake of breath was wonderfully satisfying, as was the sight of the red wine dripping down his chin and onto his white shirt. He didn't, however, release her; instead, he tightened his grip as he rose.
“Now you'll have to come with me while I change.”
“Let me go, Mr. Ross.” Violet looked desperately around for Jack, but as usual, he was nowhere to be seen. “You have no right to manhandle me like this.”
He jerked her even closer, his mouth close to her ear. “Do you want me to put an end to this masquerade, pick you up over my shoulder and take you out of here? Or will you come quietly?”
The menace behind Richard's quietly spoken words sunk in and Violet nodded. She couldn't afford to be exposed as a woman yet, and Richard probably knew it.
“Come on, then.”
Still holding on to her, he turned in the opposite direction to the one she had anticipated and pulled her along with him. At the very end of the hallway, he stopped, withdrew a key, and unlocked the plain door. Violet found herself on the narrow servants' stairs, Richard urging her upward, with a hand in the small of her back.
She lost track of how many levels and staircases they traversed, until Richard drew to a halt beside another more ornate door and pushed her inside. A fire burned in the grate, and the large four-poster bed was turned down to display white linen sheets.
“Where are we?” Violet asked as she rubbed unobtrusively at her wrist.
“My bedchamber.” Richard glanced at her over his shoulder as he stripped off his coat.
“You live here at the pleasure house?”
“No, I have other lodgings. This is just for convenience.”
He took off his waistcoat and started on his stained cravat and shirt. Violet stayed by the fireplace, where she could still see the door. It was the second time he'd taken her into a room against her will and she didn't want to be locked in again.
“What did you wish to talk about, Violet?”
He loosened his trousers and pulled his shirt over his head. For a moment, she was too distracted by the sight of his muscled chest and flat stomach to remember what she wanted to say. By the time she found her voice, he'd emerged from the shirt, his hair ruffled and his gaze fixed firmly on hers.
“I wanted to explain why we had sought you out.”
He balled the fabric up and threw the shirt on the floor. “So you did come looking for me, after all.”
“And for Madame Helene. It was just by chance that you were related to her.”
His faint smile died. “Chance. You can't help but lie every time you open your beautiful mouth, can you?”
Violet held her ground. “As far as I understand it, the relationship between Madame Helene and your father isn't widely known. You certainly didn't mention it when I first met you.”
He walked over to the basin and jug of water, and poured some water into the bowl. “I didn't mention it because it wasn't something I wanted to believe had happened.” He splashed water over his face and torso, seemingly oblivious to the cold. “In truth, I bolted to France to avoid having to deal with it at all.”
Cautiously, Violet took a seat and stared up at Richard's dripping wet chest. “I can understand that your father taking up with a notorious madame might have upset you.”
“It didn't upset me. I was absolutely furious with him.”
He grabbed a drying cloth and rubbed vigorously at his face and damp hair. She sat forward as he walked across the large room to a chest of drawers and extracted another shirt. Before putting it on, he came toward her and she tensed.
All he did was lay the shirt over the back of the chair nearest the fire to warm and stare down at it. The firelight dappled his skin, making him look like an ancient statue cast forever in stone. Violet realized he was as unlikely to elaborate about his feelings as she was to take him completely into her confidence. She decided her best course of action was to forge ahead and hope that he'd at least listen.
“When Jack told me that you were connected to Madame Helene, I knew we would most likely meet. I told him about our . . . relationship. I had to.”
“And Jack, being Jack, was quite happy to exploit every opportunity you gave him. Did he tell you to seduce me again?”
“I didn't seduce you the first time.”
Richard just raised his eyebrows and waited, one hand grasping the back of the chair.
Violet regarded him coldly. “I believe it was a mutual decision.”
“If that is how you choose to remember it, who am I to argue with a lady?” His smile was both sardonic and dismissive, and stirred her simmering temper. “And if we are discussing the past and things not shared between us, why didn't you mention that you had a twin brother?”
“I didn't know he was still alive.”
“Perhaps you found him loitering in the underworld when you died and brought him back with you?”
Violet clenched her fists so hard that her fingernails dug into her flesh. She would not allow him to distract her from the truth. It was little enough to give him, but it was all she had.
“During the aftermath of the revolution, our parents went their separate ways. My father took Jack, and I was left with my mother. We only met again about three years ago at our grandmother's house.”
“The grandmother who knew Helene during the revolution.”
“Yes.” Violet flicked an irritated glance up at Richard's bare skin. “Aren't you going to put your shirt on?”
He rubbed a leisurely hand over his muscled chest and his nipple hardened. “You used to enjoy the sight of me displaying far more skin than this.”
Violet met his gaze. “That was a long time ago.”
He shrugged. “You seemed to enjoy me fucking your arse the other night as well.”
“Can we get back to the reason for my being here?” Violet snapped.
“In my bedchamber?”
She ignored him and took a steadying breath. “As I was saying, Jack turned up at our grandmother's house barely alive.”
“Now that doesn't surprise me at all. I've been wanting to strangle him since I met him,” Richard muttered.
Violet fought a sudden urge to smile. “After talking to each other at length, we realized we had both been working for the good of the true France, as had our parents.”
“What a surprise.”
Violet glared at Richard. “Do you wish to listen to what I have to say or not?”
He sighed. “I suppose I should at least hear you out.” He took the seat opposite her, still shirtless, and sat forward. “Please, carry on.”
“Things have . . . changed in France. Reviving the monarchy is not such a popular cause anymore. We were no longer sure that the people we worked for were trustworthy. Recent events have proved that beyond a doubt. We decided it was time to abandon our ties with France and find a safe haven in which to live out the rest of our lives.”
“And you decided on England. France's oldest enemy.”
“Our father was English. We have a right to live here.”
“Jack told me that you were born here.”
“That is true.”
“You have proof of this?”
Violet hesitated. “No, all our documents were lost with our parents. But Lord Keyes assured Jack that such records could be found and authenticated.”
Richard sat back, his face in the half-shadows, his fingers drumming on the arm of his chair. “So you just wish to settle down and live in peace.”
“Yes.” Violet put all the sincerity she could into her answer. She was weary of the subterfuge; she desperately wanted to escape before she was killed.
He stood up so suddenly that she shrank back in her seat. His hands came up to grab the wings of her chair, caging her in.
“Do you think I am stupid, Violet? No one walks away from a spymaster and gets to live happily ever after.”
“You did.”
His laugh was humorless. “Why do you think I still associate with Lord Keyes? Do you think I
like
him?”
“Are you suggesting that you are still spying for your country?”
He stared at her for a long moment; then his face relaxed into a smile that didn't relieve her suspicions at all. “Your imagination runs away with you, Violet. Unlike you, I was never a spy in the first place. Lord Keyes asked me to help you and Jack assimilate into society. And as you have just told me that you wish to live in England, you must admit that his request makes perfect sense.”
He didn't move back and his gaze dropped to her waistcoat. “But why must you be disguised as a man?”
“Because you are right. There are certain people who did not wish Jack and I to leave France.”
“Alive?”
She fought to control her surprise at his quick leap to the correct conclusion. He leaned forward and stroked his finger along the line of her forehead. “Don't frown. It doesn't become you. You believe you will be safer in England?”
“Yes.” She shivered as his finger trailed down her nose and traced her upper lip.
“So what do you require from me if it isn't money?” he asked softly.
Your protection
? For a moment she thought she'd said the words out loud, but he continued to stare at her and she realized he was waiting for her to speak. Her courage failed and she smiled at him in return.
“Exactly what Lord Keyes asked of you: your help in establishing us in society. I wanted to make sure that you would not betray us.” He went still and she held her breath as his gaze hardened. She hurried on. “It will be difficult for Jack to claim our father's title and lands. He will need all the assistance he can get.”
“And I am to provide that assistance.”
“If you are so inclined, sir. With you, Lord Keyes, and Madame Helene on our side, I believe we can establish ourselves quite credibly.”
“And what do I get in return?”
“You don't wish to help us?”
His mouth twisted. “You haven't changed at all. You still answer my questions with questions of your own. What of Mrs. Lennox?”
“My mother?”
“If that woman is your mother, I'll eat my hat.”
Violet let out her breath. “Sylvia is also in need of help. We agreed to aid each other.”
“She is another poor spy?”
“No, she is my father's second wife. He died about three years ago.”
“How convenient for you all.”
Violet shivered as she recalled Jack's version of what had happened to their father and how he'd barely escaped with his life trying to save the older man's wife.
“I am
not
lying.”
He cupped her chin. “As if I could ever tell the difference between your lies and your truth. I'm not sure even you know. When we first met, I thought you an innocent.”
“I was.” She jerked away from his touch. “I still know what is true.”
His mouth descended and caught hers, nipping at her lower lip until she let him in and he deepened the kiss. She moaned as his tongue tangled with hers, making her arch helplessly toward him. He ripped his mouth away, but he didn't retreat.
“This is true, your response to me. It always has been.”
The male satisfaction in his voice as he dove in for another kiss made her recoil.
“How do you know that? If I am such an accomplished liar, how do you know I don't lie about this?”
He pulled back, his expression lethal, one hand attacking the buttons of her trousers until he cupped her wet, needy sex.
“You can't fake this, Violet.” He plunged one finger deep inside her. “You're wet for me.” His tongue slid into her mouth, mimicking the thrust and retreat of his finger.
She couldn't escape him, could only drown in the complex emotions he aroused in her and surrender to the determination of his kiss and the rhythm of his probing finger. He grabbed her hand and pressed it against the front of his trousers.

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