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Authors: Robyn Dehart

Tags: #Romance, #Historical Romance, #romance series, #entangled publishing, #Robyn DeHart, #scandalous

A Little Bit Scandalous (8 page)

BOOK: A Little Bit Scandalous
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“That’s a shame, Belinda, but it’s not my concern whether you’re pleasured or not.” He pushed at her, moving her chest off his brow.

She stood and leaned against his desk, staying close to him. “What were you doing at the board meeting today?” she asked, her tone changed from seductive to accusatory. “Since when do you take interest in the poor orphans of London?”

“I have my reasons.” He tapped his fingers on his desk. “My mother vacated her board position, and she needed a replacement.”

“She
sent
a replacement.” Then her eyes went wide and she gave him a sinister smile. “Oh I see, so it is that
girl
.” She spat the word as if it were a curse. “She has captured your attention. Not usually your type, Roe. My late husband had more curves than she does.”

“Which one?”

“Touché, my love.” She let her eyes roam over him. “When you change your mind—and I know you will, because that waif of a girl will never be able to satisfy you—I will be waiting.” She leaned down and kissed him, running her tongue along his closed mouth. She winked, then sashayed out of the room.


Caroline stood in the dark. She was not particularly skilled when it came to determining if a man was attracted to her. She hadn’t stayed in London for her Season long enough after Roe had rejected her proposal, but Roe had behaved as if she tempted him, as if their kiss had affected him just as it had her.

Perhaps he behaved that way with any woman who got close enough to him. Somehow she doubted that, though. She’d seen Lady Fairfax, the kind of woman Roe had affairs with. A sophisticated woman with curves aplenty, lovely golden hair, and big blue eyes. Not at all like Caroline’s unruly mouse-brown hair and her own lackluster brown eyes. And she’d seen the kind of woman Roe intended to marry, someone who looked a bit like her, only a much more attractive version.

Caroline had not come downstairs to spy on Roe. She’d wandered down to find a book to read and had seen a particularly interesting looking text in Roe’s study on mathematics. She clutched her dressing gown closer around her as the draft from the night air wafted around her. She’d thought Roe had left hours ago. Evidently not.

She waited a few breaths before making her way to Roe’s study. She intended to walk in and go immediately for the book, say goodnight, and be on her way. Instead, she locked her gaze on him and boldly asked, “Are you and Lady Fairfax having an affair?”

Roe looked up from his desk, then leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his abdomen. The pose was nothing short of masculine perfection.

She silently cursed her body and its betraying desire.

“We were. Once. But no longer,” he said, his words even, unwavering.

She tried to think of something to say, but merely stood there as the relief washed over her. “She’s quite beautiful.”

Roe nodded. “She is.”

The book she’d come to retrieve was on the bookshelf behind Roe. She could see the reddish leather mocking her. Still, she made no move to claim it. Mathematical treatise could not hold her attention when Roe was near. Her mind barely functioned well enough to hold a conversation, let alone read about the complexities of algebra. “What did she want?” It wasn’t her concern, she knew that. She was nothing to Roe, nothing but a financial burden and he owed her no explanation about anything. Still she was curious.

“Me,” he said with a grin.

I want you, too.
But still, his obvious humor in the matter sent another flood of relief through her. If he was still interested in Lady Fairfax, he would not be joking about the matter with her. “I see. Your arrogance knows no bounds, does it?”

He tilted his head as if considering her question. “I don’t believe it does.”

“I came down to borrow a book.” Caroline stood in the same spot, her eyes unable to leave Roe’s face.

“Do you want to play a few hands?” he asked.

“I do,” she said without thinking. They hadn’t played since the night he discovered her disguise, and her hands had been itching to touch the cards, to see the numbers tally in her mind. It would be a good diversion from what her mind was currently considering—all the ways Roe could seduce her. He motioned for her to come forward.

“Pull up that chair.” He indicated the wooden chair that currently sat near the window adjacent to his desk.

She dragged it across the Persian rug and brought it to the edge of his mahogany desk. She would have a difficult time saying no to a game in any circumstances, but this one, here tonight with Roe, it would have been impossible. She had nothing to compete with Lady Fairfax except her skill with cards, something Caroline knew Roe would appreciate and value. So she’d do her best, challenge him, beat him, and then be able to go to bed tonight knowing while she might not be prettiest woman in his life, she was the smartest.

He retrieved a deck of cards from his top drawer and nimbly shuffled them, flipping and fanning them within his hands. He had beautiful hands, large, broad, masculine hands with a light dusting of hair on each knuckle, and neat, manicured nails. Hands that had touched her throat and her face when he’d kissed her.

She felt her cheeks warm and knew they likely burned red. She looked down, inspected her own hands, which she’d never felt were particularly feminine because her fingers were long and narrow. Her own nails were blunt and jagged from her bed habit of picking at them when she was nervous. She remembered, when she’d been very young, her mother had told her that her hands were that of a pianist. Caroline had tried to play sometime after that, but she’d never been particularly musical.

“I met someone tonight.” Caroline hadn’t intended to bring up Penelope so abruptly. Still, her curiosity seemed to know no bounds.

“Yes, the American fellow, I saw.”

Caroline frowned. “No, not Mr. Bishop, although I suppose I met him as well. No, I meant I’d met someone you knew. Penelope, or I should probably refer to her as Lady Granger, though she introduced herself with her Christian name.”

Roe stiffened and the cards in his hand stilled, but it was so brief a moment that had she not been studying him, she would likely have missed it. “Yes, I do know Lady Granger.”

“Of course you do. You were betrothed to her once?”

He met her gaze. “No, we were never officially betrothed. I realized things would not work out between the two of us and we parted ways. It was for the best, as she’d already fallen in love with Lord Granger. They married shortly thereafter.”

Was that jealousy or hurt she heard in his voice? It was hard to tell, but there was a decidedly darker tone. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought her up at all, if she reminded Roe of their painful past. She had always assumed Roe felt love was beneath him, a pedestrian emotion. She’d never considered he’d once loved and lost.

“Ready?” he asked, indicating the cards in his hand.

“Yes.” He still wanted to play, which relieved her. Perhaps that would lighten his mood.

He dealt her cards and she flipped them over, glanced at both. Twenty. His brow slowly rose.

“I’ll stay.”

“Very good.” He checked his own hand. “Dealer takes one. And another one.” His eyes slowly rose to meet hers. He flipped his cards over. “Dealer has twenty-one.”

She turned over her own cards. “We have nothing we’re playing with,” she said. “What do I owe you?”

He cocked his hand to the side. “Nothing. We can merely play to enjoy the game.”

“You don’t believe that. There must always be stakes. You told me that the first time we played. Otherwise, there is no incentive for someone to play with skill. They get lazy, rely on luck. No, there must be something we could exchange.”

“What can you offer me?”

“A kiss,” she said before she thought better of it. She leaned forward, offering herself to him. If nothing else, her advance would give him a chuckle.

“I am not such a scoundrel that I need to win kisses from women at cards.”

“Perhaps.” She eyed him from under her lashes. “But it is not my kisses that I am offering up as prizes. I’m asking for your kisses.” Even as she said the words, her cheeks flamed, but she did not back down. A successful player never backed down from a bluff.

He leaned slowly back in his chair and studied her from behind his cards. “And why would you need to win my kisses?” he asked in a voice that sent fissures of pleasure through her entire body.

He was so distracting she almost forgot to answer, but finally she cleared her throat and said, “I suspect I’ll be courted by many men now that I have been reintroduced to Society.” That wasn’t at all true, but she’d had to think of something to say. “I am certain many of them will want to kiss me. I will need some experience, will I not, if I am to judge their skill?”

A scowl settled over his handsome features. “Perhaps you should judge your suitors on qualities that are more important than their kisses.”

“Qualities such as?”

“Their ability to provide for you. To protect you.”

“Hmm … I have had a man to do those things for me for the past nine years. In my experience, it’s been dreadfully dull.” She stood, pushing herself away from his desk. “I think I’ll simply retire for tonight.” Before she could move so much as a step toward the door, he rounded the desk, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her close to him. She fully expected him to argue, to call the game off. She felt every second tick by as she waited for him to lower his mouth to hers. When he finally did, her feelings of inadequacy melted beneath his kiss. His hand at her neck was firm and warm, but his lips betrayed his control. In his kiss, he made no attempt to hide his desire or urgency for her. The realization of that flooded her body with lust and hope. If only for a moment—this moment—he wanted her. Not Belinda, nor Penelope.

Only Caroline.

Their tongues intertwined and desire shot through her, hardening her nipples and dampening between her thighs. She wanted him, too. Wanted him to touch her. To kiss her. To take her body and make her forget about the fact that she was merely a baron’s daughter and he was a duke, make her forget about him being her guardian and she being his ward. In this moment they were merely two people who desired one another.

He ended the kiss and gently touched his lips to the top of her head. She sat back in her chair and did her best to appear unaffected, but the truth of the matter was, she knew she was very much in danger. Warmth spread through her and she knew she should run from him, run from the danger in which she’d just placed her heart.

He said nothing for several moments, then he dropped his cards and stood. He walked over to the decanter of brandy and poured himself a glass. He downed it and poured another before turning to face her.

“I cannot afford this game because it will not have the payout you’re looking for,” he said.

“What the devil does that mean?” She dropped her cards.

“I am not the man you think I am, Caroline, not the hero you saw as a girl.”

She wanted to argue, but knew part of what he said was true. Once upon a time she had seen him as a hero, the man who had saved her when she’d been left utterly alone in the world. She could see the real him now, the man she’d somehow missed. And the truth was, she much preferred this man to the one she’d spent hours mooning about, though she’d never tell him that.

“I want you to know the truth, though. I’ve kept it from you for far too long, convincing myself that I was protecting you. But know this, Caroline, the only reason I didn’t tell you this nine years ago is because I didn’t want you to see me for who I really am.” There was such earnestness in his eyes that her own burned with tears.

She came to her feet. “Roe, what are you talking about?” Her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach twisted in knots.

“I am the reason your brother died. Were it not for me and my stubborn ways, Christopher would still be alive.”

She frowned and shook her head. “Christopher died of cholera, a disease you both had if I’m not mistaken. Mille told me you were quite ill when you returned and it took months to nurse you back to health. Even I remember how gaunt you still were that first time I saw you. Not at all the man you are now, healthy and strong.”

He inclined his head. “True. But it was my idea to go to Persia to begin with. Then when we returned and we were so ill, he more so than me, my father came to get me and I just left Christopher there. Left him there in that pitiful excuse of a hospital.” He swore and downed his second drink and he gave her a sad smile.

“So you see, Caroline, you mustn’t set your heart on me. I don’t deserve your affection and I thought it was about bloody time you knew the truth.” He strode from the room.

Caroline sighed. If only he knew the truth: It wasn’t that he wasn’t the man she’d believed him to be that frightened her, it was that the real Roe was even more appealing than her childish image of him. She had thought her girlhood fancy of him nothing more than that, but here now, with her adult body and her adult mind…she found she wanted him more than she ever had before.

And that was terrifying.

 

Chapter Eight

The following day, Caroline was reading the mathematics text alone in Roe’s study. Well, she was holding the text, though the words seemed to blur in front of her. Her thoughts were occupied with reliving Roe’s kisses. It was easier than thinking about everything he’d told her about her brother. Her heart hurt for Roe.

Nobody would have ever blamed him for Christopher’s death, least of all her.

These thoughts were futile, and so she’d curled up in one of the sizable chairs, with one leg swinging crossed over the other. Roe was out of the house, though Caroline wasn’t certain where he had gone, and Millie had gone shopping with Aggie. They’d invited Caroline to go along, but she hadn’t seen a reason to. Granted, she probably could use some new dresses, especially now that she had so many Society obligations. She had declined, as she hadn’t wanted to ask for the funds.

She spent part of the morning searching
The Times
for recommendations of architects and their employees to decide whom she should contact for the work needed at her family home. The list was overwhelming, and the amount of knowledge she had about the men listed was nonexistent. She could just as easily select a man because she liked the sound of his name as the list of his credentials.

She knew the staircase was her primary concern. Well, that and the roof on the back part of the house, where they’d had significant wind damage. Once those issues were resolved, the remaining issues were mostly cosmetic, such as repairing and replacing some of the wood paneling and baseboards. After that, she could slowly update the décor, put in new wallpaper, reupholster the furniture that was still useable, and then she’d have to replace the pieces that were too worn.

Of course, none of that would matter at all if Mr. Murdock would not allow her to forego the remainder of the lease. She’d spoken to the solicitor who had originally managed the lease and he’d said the document was legal and binding, which meant that the only way she could prevent Mr. Murdock from retaining residence in her home was to talk him out of it.

“I’ll merely wait for him,” a man’s voice said from the corridor outside of Roe’s study, “if you don’t mind.”

The butler opened the door, then, startled to see her, he bowed. “Miss Jellico, I was not aware you were in here, my apologies.”

Caroline swung her legs to the front of the chair and stood.

“The duke’s solicitor has come to see him and wants to wait,” Grimm said.

“Bring him in, Grimm. I was borrowing this text is all,” Caroline said.

The man who entered the room held his satchel up against his chest. He couldn’t have been too much older than Caroline herself. He smiled shakily at her. “My lady,” he said with a nod. “Many apologies to intrude upon you like this. Please carry on with your reading and do not mind me, I only need to speak with Lord Chanceworth regarding some funds he requested for a charity.”

Was the charity he spoke of the Dover House? Perhaps she could play hostess for a few moments so the man was not alone. Caroline pointed to the two wing-backed chairs in front of the fireplace. The solicitor sat in one. “My name is Caroline Jellico,” she said with a grin. She’d never been much of a flirt, but she knew how to speak to people since she’d never been terribly shy. “And you are?”

“Harold Simpson.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” She smiled at him. “This charity in question, it wouldn’t happen to be the Dover Street Girl’s Asylum, would it?”

His eyes widened and he nodded. “Indeed.”

“I am on that board of directors with Lord Chanceworth. He is my guardian—my legal guardian, that is,” she added awkwardly. “Is there a problem with the funds?”

Mr. Simpson shook his head and frowned. “It is not so much the funds themselves, since His Grace has more than enough. But the instructions he gave me as to where to send the monies…” He flipped through some paper in his satchel. He pulled out one sheet and read over it. “I was told to pay a certain vendor. But I looked into the matter and contacted the vendor myself, first by post and then I even went over to their establishment.” He looked up at her then. “Miss Jellico, I’ve received conflicting information. The letter I received indicated that the vendor had not been used for the Dover Street Girls’ Asylum in over six months. There have been no orders for goods. I went to see them for clarification and the man I saw said that I had been misinformed and he’d have the receipts sent to my office, which he later did. But with the discrepancy, I felt it best to bring this to His Grace’s attention.”

“Well, that’s most peculiar.” Caroline frowned. “Is it standard procedure for you to directly handle the funds for charity payments?”

He took a shaky breath. “It depends. Most of the time I give the monies directly to the charity and they pay their bills as they see fit. But Lord Chanceworth, he asked me to handle this matter directly with the vendor.”

“I see.” Obviously Roe did not trust Mr. Lamb either, which was interesting because he’d never indicated as much to her. Granted, they hadn’t discussed much in lines of the orphanage. Instead, they’d danced around issues. Her house, her playing cards dressed as a man, his former mistress…

Mr. Simpson pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. He nodded as if confirming something, but said nothing to her. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“I must admit that this is a perplexing issue, Mr. Simpson. Perhaps the vendor made an error originally, and they were clearing matters up for you.” Or this could be indication that something, indeed, was going on with Mr. Lamb. “It’s really quite kind and thorough of you stopping by to handle matters yourself. I do wish Lord Chanceworth was home to see to this matter straight away,” Caroline said.

Mr. Simpson sighed. “And you do not know when he shall return?”

“I do not.” She had no notion of where he went. Normally he was not awake this early in the morning, but since he hadn’t been to Rodale’s to play since discovering her charade, he’d been keeping more usual hours.

Mr. Simpson once again pulled on the chain attached to his pocket watch and popped it open. “Oh dear, I was hoping to speak with him, but it would seem it is approaching the time of my next appointment. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave.”

“You can leave all the pertinent information with me. I shall see to it that Lord Chanceworth sees it immediately. Upon his return, of course,” Caroline said.

“Miss Jellico, you are most helpful,” he said with an awkward grin.

After the solicitor left, she straightened the papers he’d left and set them neatly on Roe’s desk. She would discuss all of that with him when he returned. For now, though, she thought perhaps a visit to Dover House was in order. Perhaps she could discover some of the discrepancies on her own. Certainly Roe would appreciate that.

Not a half hour later, Caroline found herself back on the steps at Dover House. Today when the door opened though it was not Mrs. Hancock standing on the other side, but rather a small girl. She looked to be about ten.

“Is Mrs. Hancock here?” Caroline asked.

The girl shook her head, then opened the door wider.

The girl must be mistaken. They couldn’t be in the house unsupervised. “My name is Caroline. I’ll be helping now with Dover House and I wanted to look around, to see how things looked. Would that be all right with you?”

The girl bobbed her head and then skipped away, leaving Caroline standing in the empty corridor alone. She had already seen some of this first floor on her way to the meeting the other day. She was pleased to note the room still smelled of lemon, which meant that the cleaning hadn’t merely taken place for the benefit of the board members.

Caroline headed straight for the staircase that led to the upper floors. She went to the top, deciding to work her way down. The stairs creaked and moaned as she climbed, but soon she found herself on the highest floor. She went along the corridor and found a row of closed doors. She opened the first one to discover an empty room. There was nothing—not an armoire, no beds, not even curtains. The next several rooms were much the same, in varying degrees of emptiness. Some held a few random chairs and a couple had worn curtains, but mostly they were empty, lifeless rooms.

Caroline made her way down the opposite corridor and again was faced with several doors. She opened them one-by-one and found that these were not empty, though they still seemed lifeless. There were rows of small beds or cots in several of the rooms, but they were bare of bedding. The dust on the floor suggested the rooms had not been disturbed in quite a while.

Peculiar. She could have sworn that in the meeting the other day Mr. Lamb had said that they had nearly full occupancy, with only one wing being readied for new girls. She went down to the floor below her and found a similar structure, several rooms on both sides of the staircase.

“Who are you?” a girl’s voice asked from behind Caroline.

Caroline turned to find the girl from the front door standing next to an older girl, presumably the one who had spoken. “I’m Caroline. And who are you?” she asked, making certain her voice was friendly.

“Gretchen.” She reached behind her to grab on to the smaller girl. “This is my sister, Fiona. She doesn’t talk.”

Caroline smiled. “Well, it is quite lovely to meet you both, Gretchen and Fiona. I was looking around to see how things are for you girls.”

Gretchen’s jaw clenched and she gave a curt shake of her head.

“Have others been by to inspect the house?” Caroline asked. “Other adults who work on the board?”

Gretchen shook her head. “No one ever comes to visit.”

Caroline’s heart clenched. She knew what it was like to be alone in this world. No, she’d never been in this situation. She’d been fortunate and had been surrounded by privilege and people her entire life. But she knew what it was like to not have a family of her own. “How many of you are there?”

“Girls?” Gretchen asked, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Never counted. But we fill up one whole floor.” She looked behind her at her sister. “There’s about ten of us sleeping in our room. Then a bunch of girls in the other rooms.”

If Caroline’s calculations were correct, that meant there were about eighty girls in total. A far cry from the one-hundred-seventy-five Mr. Lamb claimed they had. There was still much of the building to see, but she wanted to get home and inform Roe. This, coupled with the information the solicitor had brought, might be enough for something to be done about Mr. Lamb. Of course, she had originally intended to make this visit so she could share some of the information with Mr. Bishop and other potential benefactors, but there was no sense in collecting more funds until they knew where the money was going.

“Well, then girls, I do hope I shall see you again soon.” Caroline made her way down the stairs. She looked back up when she reached the bottom floor and saw the two girls still standing there, watching her. She vowed in that moment she would do whatever it took to make their lives better. With a little wave, she slipped out the front door.


Roe returned home to find Caroline waiting in his study. He was struck by how perfectly normal she looked sitting in his favorite reading chair, a book balanced in her lap. She folded the book over her hand and looked up at him.

“Where the devil have you been? I’ve been waiting for hours,” she said.

“I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

“Yes, well, I have much to tell you. First, your solicitor, Mr. Simpson, stopped by. He waited for a while, but had to leave for another appointment. I didn’t know when you’d return so he left papers with me.”

“I had luncheon with Justin. He says hello, by the by.” He came over and sat in the chair next to her. “What did Mr. Simpson want?”

“Evidently, there is a discrepancy in what Mr. Lamb told you as far as the vendor who had an outstanding bill. Mr. Simpson was told by one person that the vendor hadn’t been used in over six months, and yet another person managed to find receipts to send to his office through post.”

Roe said nothing for a moment. He took an even breath. This was the sort of conversation a man had with his wife. It was a notion that should bother him, but he found himself quite comfortable with the scenario. That was concerning. He shook off the feeling.

“You were suspicious,” she said.

“Of Mr. Lamb?” He inclined his head. “Yes, I was.”

She set the book on the table next to her and leaned forward. “Why?”

He gave a slight shrug. “Years of observing people, I suppose. He seemed twitchy.”

“Twitchy?” She grinned. “That’s not even a word. I’m not certain I want to know how you’d describe me.”

Lovely, seductive, intelligent, tempting…all of those words came to mind. He wasn’t too eager to share that with her, however. “The point is I do not trust him. I didn’t the moment I walked into the room. I don’t mind giving my money to charities, especially those with good causes, but I will not give money to weasels who misuse funds.”

“And you’re certain that’s happening?” she asked.

“Fairly, but I have no concrete proof, merely a hunch.” He crossed his leg over his knee. “So what is the second thing?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, you said, ‘first,’ and then you told me about Mr. Simpson. What is the second thing you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Right.” She took a few breaths and then shrugged. “I went to Dover House to look around.”

“Did Mr. Lamb see you?” If he didn’t trust the man with his money he sure as hell didn’t trust him alone with Caroline.

“No, he wasn’t there. Nor was Mrs. Hancock, which I found odd, at best. Certainly they must have adults in the house with the children at all times,” she said.

“Perhaps she was occupied.”

“Perhaps. In any case, I also discovered a discrepancy.”

“What precisely did you discover?”

“Well, I had intended to visit Dover House so I could speak of it with authority to potential benefactors like Mr. Hopkins, the American I met at the ball the other night.”

Roe tried to ignore the flash of jealousy that flared inside him.

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