Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel) (5 page)

Gillian’s heart
hammered, but she forced herself to speak. “You must have an excellent memory.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes
smoldered. “I never forget a woman I’ve kissed.”

“You most certainly
have not kissed me!” Gillian protested, glancing from her sister’s shocked face
to Sally’s knowing one. Looking at Mr. Sutherland was out of the question. Her
face might as well be on fire, for all the embarrassment she felt.

“I did kiss you. Of
course, you were just a child―”

“Eight,” she
interrupted.

He grinned. “You
remember too?”

“You scoundrel,” she
snapped. “You stole that kiss!”

He shrugged. “The
slap was well worth it.”

What must Mr.
Sutherland think? She stole a glance at him. Was that amusement or horror?
Before she could decide, Sally said, “
I presume this is Mr. Sutherland, your business
partner?”

Mr. Sutherland bowed to Sally. “I
think we can skip the formal introduction.” His gaze slid between Gillian and
Lord Lionhurst. Thank goodness, the man appeared to have a sense of humor.

He bowed to Gillian. “I can see why
Lionhurst remembers you.”

Gillian’s stomach
tightened. He seemed nice enough based on ten seconds. Could she seduce this
man into marriage? What choice did she have? Gillian curtsied. “It’s a pleasure
to meet you.” As she was coming up, a hand pushed against her back.

“Get to the dance floor,” Sally
hissed, propelling Gillian into Lord Lionhurst’s arms and away from Mr. Sutherland.

“Wait, no,” Gillian protested, but her
objection was drowned out by the lively notes the orchestra had struck up.

Surprise that appeared to match her
own registered across Lord Lionhurst’s face, but he slipped his hand around her
waist and led her away.

Alex wanted to avoid a confrontation
with Lady Staunton, but he wasn’t sure whisking Lady Gillian onto the dance
floor was a better predicament than facing the woman who was making a beeline
for him. One woman wanted him, and he wanted the other
.

An innocent. A woman he had no right
to want.
He would
never offer her the thing a debutante such as herself would be after―marriage.
And what he did have to offer―pleasure and passion―was not
something she would be shopping for.

He thought he knew better than to
play with fire, so why was he leading the burning flame onto the dance floor?
He should be a man, turn around and march her back into the safekeeping of the
lady’s sister and Sally.

Her hips swayed alluringly as she
walked beside him, but he knew she did not intend to entice him into her bed.
Her look of outrage as he propelled her onto the dance floor had made how she
felt about him apparent. She had judged him as a rake and knew the best thing
was to stay away.
Good for her. And him
. But one dance would not bind
either of them to anything. And his attention would not harm her. He was an
honorable man when it came to debutantes. Hell, any woman. He never got
involved with a woman unless she was widowed and willing or a paid professional
who knew better than to expect marriage and emotions.

He led her onto the dance floor while
trying to ignore her scent. Was that freesia? He leaned close to her hair.
Definitely
freesia
.

She swatted beside her as if he was a
pesky fly.

She had spunk. He’d give her that.
And she smelled good. No doubt, she would prove to be like all women of her lot—interested
only in titles and wealth. He grabbed her gently by the arm and turned her to
face him.

“Do you always sniff women like
you’re a dog?” Emerald eyes framed by long, sooty lashes glared at him.

He swallowed his laughter and desire.
“No. Why didn’t you want to dance with me?”

Her forehead creased at his question.
“I think we both know why, Lord Lionhurst. You don’t seem the sort of man to
simply want a dance from a lady.”

“I’m without reproach when it comes
to debutantes,” he snapped, unsure why her negative perception of him made him
angry.

“Not true,” she replied, placing a
hand on his arm to position herself for the dance. “You stole a kiss from me,
and I am a debutante.”

He swirled them around the dance
floor in silence, trying to decide what to say to that. She was right. He had
stolen a kiss from her years ago. He’d never stolen another kiss since. Her
slap across the face had left a lasting impression. Making sure the woman was
willing was always necessary.

He hadn’t the foggiest idea what to
say. No witty rejoinder came to mind—a completely new situation for him. He forced
himself to look at her and was surprised to find her studying him. “Are you
going to keep our secret?”

“Of course,” he replied, bothered at
the frown of worry creasing her forehead. It had been fun to tease her earlier,
but he hadn’t meant to really concern her. “Relax and have fun. I promise to
return you unscathed to your sister the moment the dance ends.”

Her gaze traveled back the way they
had come, the frown not lessening a bit. If anything, she appeared more
concerned. “Are you concerned that dancing with me will harm your reputation?”

She bit her lip but didn’t respond.

“I assure you, try as I might to
dissuade mothers from pursing me, I am still a favorite pick as an eligible
bachelor season after season.”

“You’re rather conceited,” she said.

“No. I know very well it has nothing
to do with me. Or rather anything they know about me personally. They want me
for their daughters because of my title and my money. I could be daft and they
would still want me. Dancing with me might actually help you garner attention.
Pleasant attention, that is. So you can rest easy, unless your frown has nothing
to do with being concerned about your reputation and is caused by something
else entirely.”

Her eyes widened a fraction.

“Ah.” He swirled her around once and
smiled down at her. Did she know how expressive her face was? “So what is the
truth of your concern?”

“Do you truly wish to hear the
truth?”

“The truth would be nice. I so rarely
get it but generally prefer it. Don’t you?”

She nodded. “Generally, though
sometimes the truth can be hurtful.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“All right.” She glanced to where
Sally and Sutherland stood talking to Lady Whitney before settling her troubled
gaze back on him. “I have someone I wish to become acquainted with, and I’m
anxious that I’ll miss my chance while on the dance floor with you.”

“Well, that was refreshingly honest
and ego crushing.”

“I’m sorry.” Her face flushed as her
gaze trailed back to Sally. Or was she staring at Sutherland? Impossible.

“Is the person you wish to meet my
business partner?”

She leveled him with a steady look. “If
you want an answer, I think it only reasonable I get to ask a question first
since I have already answered one of yours.”

He believed in fairness. “Go ahead.”

“Did you whisk me onto the dance
floor because you didn’t want to speak with Lady Staunton?”

“Yes,” he clipped, regretting his
agreement to answer honestly. He did not discuss personal matters. No flirting
with debs and no personal chitchat. He lived by those rules. Yet as he stared
into her eyes, the way gold shot through the green fascinated him. Maybe it was
the celebratory whiskey he drank earlier. More likely it was the leftover
adrenaline rush of gaining another ship for his shipping company this morning, but
whatever it was, tonight he would forget his rules for five minutes. Five
minutes couldn’t bring any catastrophic harm.

Decision made, he pulled Lady Gillian
a little closer and tighter, enjoying the curve of her waist and the warmth of
her skin. She sucked in a sharp breath, but did not fight his nearness, and his
whole body tightened in response to her.

As they made a circle around the
ballroom, she pulled back and looked at him. “I think it’s admirable you are
avoiding a married woman’s advances.”

“Thank you,” he replied. He’d have to
speak to Sally later about sharing his personal history.

The orchestra’s music began to fade,
signaling the dance was ending. He didn’t want it to end. Not yet. He’d not had
his five minutes of freedom from the life he’d made. “Would you care for one
more dance?”

“I can’t.” She was already pulling
away. He gripped the tips of her fingers to stop her flight. What was he doing?
Stalling for time? A moment that would lead to nowhere. He racked his brain and
seized what he could. “You never told me if it was my partner you wanted to
meet.”

She tugged her fingers out of his
grasp, a smile pulling at her lips. “That’s because I don’t share personal
information with men who lurk behind curtains.”

Someone to the left called
his name. He glanced to find the voice, but the crowd was thick. That could
wait. He would much prefer to exchange witty barbs with Lady Gillian. “You’re a
cheeky chit,” he said, turning back to see her response, but she was gone.

What the devil?
He glanced around
the dance floor but didn’t see her. He quelled the odd sense of disappointment.
He must be bored to even care she had fled. It was best, considering who he was
and what she was. He started to weave through the crowd, but a flash of a woman
with long black hair ascending the staircase caught his attention.
Lady Gillian.

Before he considered the consequences
to her or him, he dashed through the crowd, breaking another one of his sacred
rules.
Never chase after a woman
.

* * * * *

Gillian’s heart pounded in her ears
as she rushed up the stairs and down the candlelit hall. She leaned against the
wall and doubled over. Curse whoever dictated women’s fashion. Stays and a
multitude of cotton and silk layers made running no easy task. She struggled
for a few short breaths, and then she straightened and pressed her fingertips
to her temples.

She was horrified at how much she had
wanted to say yes to one more dance with Lord Lionhurst. What was wrong with
her? Flirting with him would not get her any closer to her goal of saving her
sister.

She pushed away from the wall and
frowned. She really needed to come up with better escape plans. How was she
going to speak with Mr. Sutherland now? She sighed. No telling what Lord
Lionhurst would say about her. Hopefully, nothing.

She had to go in search of Mr.
Sutherland, but her feet didn’t want to move.
Coward
. It wasn’t as if
Lord Lionhurst would be lurking around the corner waiting for her. He was
probably defending himself from Lady Staunton’s advances at this very moment. That
would actually be the perfect scenario. She could speak with Mr. Sutherland
without Lord Lionhurst lurking about.

No more stalling
. Mr. Sutherland
could leave before she had the chance to find him. Or worse, he could meet
someone else. The thought had her flying down the corridor toward the ballroom,
but as she rounded the corner, the toe of her slipper caught under a turned-up
corner of a rug. She careened forward, throwing her arms out to soften the
coming impact.

Strong hands gripped her and pulled
her to her feet. When she raised her head to thank her savior, her breath
hitched in her throat. Lord Lionhurst stared at her in way that left her body
tingling.

“I was looking for you. You dashed
away so fast I thought you might feel ill.”

Gillian blinked. His words, or what she
thought he said, registered in her brain. It was hard to know, with his warm
hands on her bare arms, and the scent of pine and rain invading her senses. She
leaned toward him, a positively idiotic thing to do, but one she was helpless
to stop. Mmm…not only did he smell nice, he had the loveliest smile, perfect
white teeth. He grinned at her, and she grinned back.

“Lady Gillian, did you hear me?”

“Uh-huh.” One superb smile and two dazzling
eyes, and her brain was now mush. How disappointing. She had to do better. She
pulled out of his grasp and stepped back to put proper distance between them.

His brow dipped down as if he knew
exactly what she’d been thinking. She squirmed under his penetrating stare. He
smiled, causing dimples to appear on his cheeks. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m perfectly healthy.” Daftness did
not constitute sickness.

He proffered his arm while inclining
his head toward the stairs. “Oh, yes. You are acting like the picture of health.
Not answering questions, your eyes are glazed and a sheen of perspiration is
covering your brow.”

“It’s very
ungentlemanly to point out such things.” She slipped her arm through his and
feigned a rabid interest in the floor.

“Something
interesting down there?” he asked as he led them toward the steps.

“Just making sure I don’t misplace my
step again.”

He walked toward the stairs, and when
he reached the top, he paused. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a
terrible liar?”

“A few times,” she answered, too
distracted by the way his fingers rubbed back and forth on her arm to guard her
tongue. She needed to leave him before she said anything else foolish and he
told Mr. Sutherland to avoid her. What could she say to part ways that would
sound truthful?

“Gillian!” someone called,
interrupting her thoughts. Sally rushed up the stairs to join them. She looked
between them as she heaved deep breaths. “I was wondering where the two of you
ran off to.” Her amused gaze moved from Gillian’s face to her hand. Gillian tugged
her hand free from Lord Lionhurst’s grip and forced herself to meet Sally’s
smirk. How thoroughly irritating. Did Sally think her so silly as to fall for a
man based on his remarkable looks?