One Night Scandal (27 page)

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Authors: Christie Kelley

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction

BOOK: One Night Scandal
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The door cracked open and Emma peered into the room. “May I come in?”
“Of course you can, sweetheart,” Nicholas replied with a laugh. His arms held Sophie tighter as she attempted to pull away.
Emma walked toward the bed with a wide smile. “Does this mean she said yes?”
“Emma, come over and say good morning to your new mother,” Nicholas said.
Emma ran the remaining distance and jumped onto the bed with them. She put her arms around Sophie and said, “I’m so happy you will be my mother. I knew the first time we met that you would love me no matter that I am a bastard.”
“Emma, it doesn’t matter how you were born. Your father and I love you. Just like we will love your brother or sister when I deliver.”
Emma’s amber eyes widened. “You’re with child?”
“Yes, and if we don’t get home soon, there will be another bastard in the family.”
Nicholas laughed. “There is a ship leaving in three days and we will all be on it. As soon as we arrive in London, I will get the special license and we’ll be married within a week.”
Sophie’s heart swelled. Everything she’d ever dreamed of was right here in this room with her. It didn’t matter if they created a scandal with their marriage. The only thing that mattered was their family.
Epilogue
 
Oh, the scandal they had created. Sophie stared down at the gold band on her finger and smiled. The
ton
had been horrified to hear about her condition and subsequent marriage to Nicholas.
Since the wedding four months ago, all the invitations to balls had stopped for Nicholas. She felt dreadful that marriage to her had caused him to be rejected by Society, but Nicholas never seemed to mind. They had each other and their friends.
And she had never been so happy in all her life. She didn’t care what they said about her.
Slowly, she picked up her week old son and held him close. He smelled like milk and sweetness. This was what was important. And the man next to her.
“Are you ever going to tell us his name?” Avis asked with a smile.
Looking around the salon of her new home, she was surrounded with love. Nicholas sat on the arm of her chair, holding her hand. All of her friends and family were here.
“We decided on Simon.”
Everyone agreed that was a marvelous name. Sophie glanced about the room at all her friends and her heart almost burst. She had matched all of them. Some needed more of her help than others, but all were perfect for each other.
Victoria and Anthony fussed over their little girl, Anne. Elizabeth held her son as Kendal looked on. And Jennette laughed as Christian tried to grab for her glass of wine. She snatched it from the toddler who started to cry.
“I believe he is all yours,” she said to Blackburn.
“Very well.” Blackburn placed little Rachael in her mother’s arms before grabbing Christian.
Sophie glanced over at Avis and Selby. Their little girl sat on the floor playing with a rag doll. Avis’s radiant face gave her away.
“Avis, isn’t it about time you told everyone?” Sophie asked.
Avis smiled and rolled her eyes. “I should have known you would guess my condition. I am about three months along now.”
After a round of congratulations, the butler entered the room. “Excuse me, Your Grace, there is someone here to see you.”
Kendal rose with a frown. “Why would someone call on me here?”
The butler cleared his throat. “Not you, Your Grace. I was speaking to the Duke of Belford.”
All eyes turned to Nicholas. They had known his father would pass soon and thankfully Nicholas had made some peace with his father. He had even brought Emma with him one time so they could finally meet. It was a pity, Sophie thought, staring down at her son, that the old duke never met his son’s heir.
Nicholas nodded and rose to walk out of the room. After several minutes of low voices in the hall, he returned. “My father died an hour ago in his sleep.”
“I’m sorry, Nicholas,” Sophie said and then kissed his cheek.
“I know. I should feel something but honestly, I don’t,” he admitted. “Interestingly, his solicitor said my father never changed his will.”
“What will you do with the money?” Sophie asked. She’d known Nicholas didn’t want his father’s money after all they had been through.
“I believe my daughter shall be a very wealthy heiress,” he said with a smile. “No one will deny her birthright.”
Sophie laughed and then sobered. Now, she was the Duchess of Belford. She blew out a long breath.
“Stop worrying, Sophie,” Elizabeth said. “You will make a fine duchess.”
“And just becoming duchess will stop much of the gossip about your marriage and son,” Avis added.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course, I am,” Avis replied. “Besides, once another woman creates a scandal, the gossip about you will stop. I’m certain that will happen any day now. There must be some young lady out there about to do something scandalous.”
They all laughed and Sophie relaxed knowing it didn’t matter how long it took for the gossip to stop. She had everything she’d ever wanted but was afraid would never happen for her.
Don’t miss any of these passionate
romances from Christie Kelley . . .
EVERY NIGHT I’M YOURS
 
A woman who wants to know what she’s been missing . . . A man perfectly suited to train her . . . Christie Kelley weaves a scintillating novel of one rapturous night of ecstasy . . .
 
A WOMAN YEARNING FOR
A TASTE OF THE FORBIDDEN . . .
 
At twenty-six, aspiring novelist Avis Copley intends to wear spinsterhood as a badge of honor.
But when she discovers a volume of erotica that ignites a searing fire within her, Avis realizes just how much she doesn’t know about the actual pleasures of the flesh. Determined to learn more, she devises a daring plan . . .
 
A MAN READY TO TEACH
HER MUCH, MUCH MORE . . .
 
Avis chooses Emory Billingsworth, a fellow novelist—ot to mention a beautiful specimen of manhood—to instruct her in carnal pleasure. But when the brash Earl of Selby, Banning Talbot, a man she has known for years, unearths Avis’s true intentions, he claims she’s made a dangerously bad choice. Volunteering his services for one wicked night of reckless, abandoned passion, Banning promises he will satisfy
all
of her deepest longings. Yet Banning cannot begin to imagine the effect his willful, voluptuous, and very eager student will have on him—or how far an innocent lesson in desire can go . . .
Praise for
Every Night I’m Yours
 
“Sometimes becoming a fallen woman isn’t as easy as it sounds. Oh! My!”
—Kasey Michaels,
New York Times
bestselling author
 
“Her appealing characters, sexual tension, and charming story will enchant readers.”
—
Romantic Times
EVERY TIME WE KISS
 
GUILT KEPT THEM APART . . .
 
It’s been five years since Lady Jennette Selby’s fiancé died. Each courting season since has been filled with suitors eager to win her affection.
But Jennette’s guilt has prompted her to swear off marriage. For her secrets are as dark as she is beautiful, and the accidental death of her fiancé was tainted by a forbidden attraction . . .
 
PASSION BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER . . .
 
Matthew Harris, the new Earl of Blackburn, has been scorned by the
ton
for unintentionally killing Lady Jennette’s fiancé. Forced to sell his estates and abandon his tenants if he does not marry a wealthy, respectable woman, Matthew turns to Lady Jennette to help him find a suitable wife. But sharing such close quarters only re-ignites an all-consuming desire neither can resist—even as every shadow of the past threatens to tear them apart . . .
 
 
“Rollicking, sexy . . . you’ll enjoy this one!”
—Kat Martin
 
“Kelley knows how to bring a great depth of emotion into a romance.”
—
Romantic Times
 
“With
Every Time We Kiss
, Christie Kelley has penned an original and enjoyable Regency romance between two complicated, passionate characters.”
—
Romance Junkies
SOMETHING SCANDALOUS
 
HER SHOCKING PAST . . .
 
Raised as the youngest daughter of the Duke of Kendal, Elizabeth learns a devastating truth on his deathbed: he wasn’t her father at all. And because the Duke had no sons, his title and fortune must go to his only male heir: a distant cousin who left
England for America long ago. Anticipating the man’s imminent occupation of her home, Elizabeth anxiously searches for her mother’s diary, and the secret of her paternity . . .
 
HER UNEXPECTED FUTURE . . .
 
Arriving in London with his seven siblings, William Atherton intends to sell everything and return to his beloved Virginia farm, and his fiancée, as quickly as possible. But as Elizabeth shows William an England he never knew, and graciously introduces his siblings to London Society, it becomes clear the two are meant for each other. Soon, Elizabeth finds herself determined to seduce the man who can save not only her family name but her heart . . .
 
 
“Kelley reinforces her deserved reputation for page-turning, exciting, humorous plots filled with sexual tension and populated by unforgettable characters readers can’t help but fall in love with.”
—
Romantic Times
SCANDAL OF THE SEASON
 
A DARING CHARADE . . .
 
For ten years, Anthony Westfield, Viscount Somerton, hasn’t been able to forget the woman with whom he spent one scandalous night. When their paths cross again, he’s shocked to discover Victoria Seaton is an accomplished pickpocket. But Somerton leads a double life of his own. Working on an undercover assignment, he makes Victoria a proposition: pretend to be his mistress or risk ruin.
Yet soon he’s tempted to turn their charade into reality—and surrender to an explosive passion . . .
 
A HOLIDAY TO REMEMBER . . .
 
Victoria can’t believe the man who almost destroyed her life a decade ago is now threatening to unravel her secrets. But posing as his mistress at a holiday country party is a game she can play well.
For just one look into Somerton’s eyes still weakens her with lust. And with Christmas fast approaching, every kiss they share under the mistletoe only makes Victoria fall more deeply in love . . .
 
 
“A sexy Cinderella story—racy and romantic!”
—Anna Campbell, author of
Captive of Sin
 
“Kelley’s fresh and vibrant romances are emotional, fast-paced and intriguing. Her originality captivates readers and grabs their attention.”
—
Romantic Times
 
Keep reading for a taste of
Scandal of the Season
!
London, 1807
 
 
Her smile attracted him like a beacon on this damp, cold night, drawing Anthony nearer to her warmth. But his friends yanked him away from the beautiful woman selling oranges. The force propelled him into the cobbled street. A hackney veered to the left just in time, preventing Anthony Westfield, Viscount Somerton from obliteration before ever giving his father the one thing he wanted—a proper heir.
Anthony stood and then stumbled back over the cobbles, landing at the woman’s worn brown boots. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had that third, or was it fourth?, glass of brandy. Trey and Nicholas pulled him to his feet.
“Are you all right, sir?” she asked in a small voice. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Her big eyes looked light, possibly blue, in the pale illumination of the moon. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her. Whenever he passed this street, she was there with her basket of oranges and a shy smile for him. Every time he saw her, he had felt this pull of attraction to her. She had always favored him with a bright smile, but now her face appeared lined with concern. For him.
“Fine,” he mumbled. “Just a bit too much brandy tonight.”
Her blond eyebrows lowered in what could only be condemnation. She wasn’t the only one who would disapprove of his behavior tonight. Unless he completely sobered up by the time he arrived home, he would catch a severe dressing-down by his father. First gambling, then drinking, and he had an idea of what his friends had in mind next, not exactly proper behavior for the son of an earl. At least in his father’s opinion.
Anthony continued to stare at the woman. He wanted to know her name, discover if the scent of oranges was purely from the fruit she sold or if it permeated her skin. Yet once again, his friends pulled him away from her, this time gentler.
“Good night, fair lady,” he said as they dragged him away from her.
“Good night, sir.” The light sound of her musical voice carried to his ears.
“No more drooling over a woman who isn’t about to give you what you want,” Nicholas said with a slight slur to his voice. “And we’re not about to let you swive some poor innocent.” He turned his head and smirked at them both. “One of you should have some experience.”
Trey and Nicholas led him around the corner to a house on Maddox Street. After a very successful evening of gambling, his two friends had accomplished the not so difficult task of getting Anthony foxed. Perhaps they knew it was the only way to convince him to come with them. He looked up at the house and shook his head. As a man entered the building, the sound of merriment filled the air.
“Where are we?” Anthony asked, knowing their likely location.
“Lady Whitely has the cleanest girls in town,” Trey replied.
The women might claim to be clean, but the last thing Anthony needed was a woman to give him a disease, or worse, a bastard. His father would never forgive him for that dishonor.
“I should be getting home.”
Nicholas only laughed. “Don’t be nervous, Anthony. We all have to have our first time sometime.”
Trey joined in the chortling. “I can’t believe you still haven’t . . .”
But Anthony hadn’t. His father had warned him about the unclean prostitutes around Eton and in town. As the heir to the earldom, Anthony had a responsibility to lead a clean life, marry when the time was right and have his own heir. Besides, Father had been through enough with Mother dying in a carriage accident when Anthony was only ten and his sister only two. Attempting to live up to his father’s wishes was the least he could do. Or at least try.
“I really need to go,” Anthony tried again. But his friends wouldn’t release their tight grip on his forearms.
“Not this time,” Trey said. “Lady Whitely will find you the perfect girl. After all the money you won tonight, I would say you could afford any woman you want. But go for experience.”
Paying for a woman seemed completely wicked and morally wrong. Women like that only went down the wrong path because they had nothing else. They had no one else.
“I just don’t think this is a good—”
“This
is
a good idea.
A very good idea
,” Nicholas interrupted. “One of Lady Whitely’s ladies will teach you exactly what a man needs to know before he takes a wife.”
Anthony frowned. He knew the rudiments of the act, how much more was there to it. “I’m not planning on taking a wife for a few years. And I still—”
“Too late, we’re already here,” Trey said with a laugh.
They pulled Anthony up the steps, opened the black lacquer door and pushed him into the front hallway. He almost tripped and fell onto the black and white checkered marble floor. Luckily, Nicholas caught him.
“Be a man and do this,” Nicholas whispered in his ear. “Your future wife will thank you.”
Now his friend sounded like his father. Anthony didn’t want a wife yet. He was only eighteen. As he walked into the salon and glanced around, he suddenly realized he did want to learn more about the relations between a man and a woman. Several women walked around in gowns designed to show off all their assets. Lady Whitely offered an excellent selection of women—redheads, blondes, several brunettes, too. Small-breasted women, large-breasted women, and a few in between.
Their arrival brought whispers and giggles from some of the younger ladies, and leering glances from the older ones. Trey leaned over and spoke softly to one of the women while Anthony continued to gawk. His breeches felt confining against his unruly erection. After blinking to clear his vision, he walked over to the servant selling drinks in the corner and ordered a brandy.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” a husky voice sounded behind him.
Anthony turned and stared at a woman. Her dress was cut almost to her belly, giving him a splendid view of the valley of her abundant breasts. He picked up his brandy and gulped it down.
“First time?” she asked with a knowing smile. “Well, I do hope you will pick me. My name is Giselle, and I love teaching a man what he needs to know.”
“Thank you, Giselle. I’ll remember that.” Anthony quickly ordered another drink and moved away from the strumpet. There had to be a better way to learn about sex than to lie with a woman who’d been with numerous men.
“Come on, Somerton,” Nicholas called to him from the doorway. “We have everything arranged.”
Anthony cringed with the thought. But he couldn’t back down now, could he? What would his friends think of him? He knew exactly what they would think, that he was a coward. A boy too scared to become a man.
He had to do this at least this once. Then he would do something to help these poor women. He’d find a way of reforming them so they didn’t have to work on their backs for a few pounds.
Following Nicholas up the stairs, Anthony took in his surroundings for the first time. When his friends implied they were taking him to a brothel, he’d expected a poor house with naked women prancing about. He had never thought that the staircase would be marble, the railing a burled walnut, that a fine crystal chandelier would hang from the two story ceiling, and there would be beautiful—and completely erotic—paintings on the burgundy walls.
Nicholas dragged him down the long corridor. Murmurs and moans filled the cavernous walkway, hearing the excited voices and the groans of pleasure, sent blood racing to Anthony’s stiff cock. Perhaps his body wanted this night more than his mind.
“Yes, Dickie. Oh, yes!”
Anthony could only imagine what Dickie was doing to that woman to elicit such a passionate response. Maybe learning a few things before marriage would help him and his future wife—whoever she might be.
“Come along, Anthony. You’ll get yours soon enough.” Nicholas stopped before the last room on the left and then opened the door.
Anthony followed him inside a small room painted a dark red and filled with all things feminine. A large four-poster bed with a white, Belgian lace coverlet took up most of the room. The table nearest the bed contained a variety of lotions and oils, which permeated the room with exotic scents of the Far East.
“Lady Whitely is assisting another patron but will be here in a few minutes to help you decide on your best choice of women,” Nicholas said by the doorway. “Have fun and stop listening to your father’s voice in your head. I’m quite certain even he has been known to visit a brothel.”
Anthony almost laughed as Nicholas shut the door behind him. His father would never call on a strumpet. He was the one who always told Anthony to control his base urges and save himself for marriage. After all, Mother had been dead for eight years and his father had never remarried or kept a mistress, at least as far as Anthony knew.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and thought about what kind of woman he wanted for his first time. Closing his eyes, visions of his little orange blossom, as he liked to think of her, came to his head. Perhaps if he asked for a young woman with blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile like an angel, Lady Whitely could provide him with his fantasy. Opening his eyes, reality sank in. Even if she did find him a woman who looked like his orange blossom, she wouldn’t smell fresh and clean with a hint of spicy orange to her.
A quick knock scraped across the door. This was it. Time to face Lady Whitely, choose a lady and become a man. He rose unsteadily and cleared his throat. “Come in.”
The door opened and a woman in her mid-thirties walked into the room. Her dark blond hair had been lavishly swept back, except the few curls artfully left to frame her oval face. As she stared at him, her perfect smile seemed frozen in place.
And he stared back, wondering why she looked slightly familiar to him. Neither moved. They only gazed at each other as if trying to decide how they knew each other. A small clock on the nightstand ticked away the minutes.
“Anthony?” she finally whispered.
That voice! He knew that voice. He’d heard it so many times when he’d been scared at night or when she sang him to sleep.
No!
It could not be her. She was dead. It must be the brandy addling his mind tonight.
“Anthony, is that really you?” Slowly she approached him. She reached her hand out to cup his cheek.
He reeled away from her as if her light touch had burned his skin. Turning back to face her, he said in the most damning tone he’d ever used, “Mother?”
She blinked away tears and pressed her lips tightly together. She acknowledged his condemnation by taking a step away from him.
“It is you, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He grabbed the post of the bed and hung on to it like a lifeline. Hundreds of questions bounced in his head but only one came out. “Why?”
“Why what?” She moved to the end of the bed, sat on the edge and looked up at him. “Why did I leave you and your sister? Why did I leave your father? Why did I come here and set up such a house?”
There was only one more important question. “Does Father know?”
A delicate shudder visibly rolled through her body. “Yes,” she whispered.
Anthony clung tighter to the bedpost. It was one thing for one parent to lie and deceive her child, but quite another when both parents were in collusion to betray their children. But his father would never do such an underhanded thing. He must have only recently discovered the truth of her deception.
“How long has he known?”
“Almost from the day I left.”
Anger broke through his drunken haze. “He’s known you were alive and did nothing to save you from this life?”
His mother laughed softly. “I know you may find this difficult to believe, but my life has been far better away from your father than with him.”
“How can you say that?” He finally released the bedpost, stood in front of her and hoped the world would stop spinning soon. “You make your living by . . . by . . .”
“By what, Anthony?”
“Lying with any man who would pay you.”
She reached out to clasp his hand but he pulled it away. Her dainty shoulders drooped. “I only lie with the men I wish to be with.”
“And that is supposed to make me feel better?”
She shrugged. “I suppose not.” Slowly she stood before him, barely reaching his shoulders. He had not realized just how small she was . . . petite, with dark blue eyes that flashed in anger at him. “You have no idea what I’ve been through with your father. When the time is right, I shall be happy to tell you.”
“Then tell me now,” he growled.
“No. This is not the time. You’re intoxicated, and you’ve had far too much of a shock. You need to go home and think about what you discovered tonight. And when you are ready, I shall explain everything to you.”
“I’m supposed to just leave here and accept the fact that my dead mother is actually alive and well, living as a prostitute?”
Her face whitened. “I am not a—”

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