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Authors: Kate Pearce

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BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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Christian shrugged and returned his gaze to his manager. “I'm not sure. Perhaps you should ask Ambrose.”
Violet tugged on Richard's hand. “I'd rather ask Jack. He is incorrigible. I'm sure it was his idea of a joke.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” Christian answered. “He said he intended to call on Philip in the morning.”
Violet looked up at Richard in mute appeal and he brought her hand to his lips. “I'll make sure Jack doesn't get anywhere near my father, I promise you.”
Richard nodded at Christian. “Good night.”
“Good night, Miss Lennox, Richard. Thank you for your custom.”
Richard had nothing more to say and escorted Violet out into the night.
 
Ambrose continued to gather up the glasses and cups from the kitchen table, but it seemed that Christian had no intention of leaving. Eventually he had nothing left to do and turned to his employer.
“What do you want, sir?”
Christian sat down on the nearest chair. “To understand something, to understand you.” He paused. “I know that there was more to the incident upstairs than you were allowed to let on. Did you kiss Emily, touch her?”
Resolutely, Ambrose faced his employer. “Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because she was threatening to find a man, any man, to relieve her of her virginity.”
Christian winced. “That must have been difficult for you to deal with.”
“It did present some challenges, sir, especially with Jack Lennox spurring her on.”
“That man is a menace,” Christian commented.
“Miss Ross claimed that she was tired of being excluded from the upper levels of the pleasure house, and that Jack had offered her the opportunity to experience them with him. When I asked her to return to the kitchen, she threatened to bed any willing man in the place. I felt honor bound to intervene.”
“I'm not surprised. Emily has always been prepared to go after what she wants,” Christian murmured. “I almost admire her for it.”
“Indeed. Jack Lennox was quite happy to offer himself as a willing participant.”
“And Emily was prepared to fuck him as a thank you?”
“So she said.” Ambrose stared down at his tightly clasped hands. “I couldn't allow that. I just couldn't.”
Christian picked up a bottle of wine and poured himself and Ambrose a glass. “Now that doesn't sound like Emily at all. She has always resented her exclusion from the pleasure house, but to act in such a fashion? Jack Lennox is obviously a bad influence on her.”
“I'm not sure if she would've gone through with it.”
“Well, thank God you stopped her.” Christian took another gulp of the wine. “Was she angry with you?”
Ambrose sighed and took the seat opposite Christian. “At first she was, and then when I . . . I offered to take Jack's place, she didn't object at all.”
Christian slowly lowered his glass and stared at Ambrose. “Ah, I begin to understand her game now. She has always had a
tendre
for you. I can just see her plotting with that devious sod Jack Lennox. She was probably hoping to compromise your position all along.”
“Do you think so?” Ambrose considered Emily's behavior anew, hope rising in his chest. “Then you're not angry at me for touching her?”
Christian reached out and patted Ambrose's knee. “If she was determined to experience a woman's pleasure for the first time, I can think of no one who would have treated her better.”
Ambrose stared at his employer. “But I'm a dark-skinned ex-slave and a thief who has nothing to offer her but the salary you pay me.”
Christian held his gaze. “For God's sake, Ambrose, you are far more than that.”
“But Miss Ross is your sister. You were furious with Jack Lennox when he spoke indiscreetly about her.”
“You are my best friend.” Christian hesitated in a most uncharacteristic manner. “Did you think I would be angry?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Is that why you didn't say anything when Jack Lennox offered to marry her?”
“That was part of it, but I gained the distinct impression that Miss Ross didn't want to hear anything I had to say.”
“She did rather cut you off, didn't she? I wonder why?”
Ambrose had been pondering that himself. She'd told him that she wanted him to be honest and admit that he cared about her, and then seemed terrified when he had tried to stand up for her against Christian. Had she changed her mind again?
“Mayhap she decided that Jack Lennox would be a more acceptable suitor, after all.”
“Don't sound so bitter and don't give up hope.” Christian patted his knee. “Women play the damndest games sometimes. My Elizabeth led me a merry dance before I could persuade her to confide in me.”
“I remember.” Ambrose sighed. “But it would be better for Miss Ross to marry a man like Jack Lennox, wouldn't it?”
“Not if she doesn't love him.” Christian stood and looked down at Ambrose. “And I'll wager this pleasure house that the man she is in love with is not Jack Lennox, but you.”
17
L
ord Philip Knowles put down his coffee cup and glanced down the table at his wife.
“Did you know we were expecting company for breakfast, my dear?”
“No, Philip, I did not.” Helene smiled at Richard. “But it is of no matter. Please sit down, Richard, and I will ring for some more tea and buttered toast.”
“Thank you.” Richard took the seat opposite Helene. “Is Emily up yet?”
“I'm not quite sure,” Helene said. “Do you want me to find out? Were you supposed to be accompanying her somewhere?”
“You're not going to attempt to see that Mr. Smith again, are you?” Philip asked, the good humor fading. “I asked you to leave that matter to me.”
Richard faced his father. “And I told you that was impossible.”
“Do you still believe I'm hoping to clear my name?”
“I'm not sure, Father. Why else would you be so keen to get your hands on that journal?”
Helene delicately cleared her throat. “Philip, why don't you go and find out whether Emily is awake yet while I talk to Richard?”
Philip's troubled gaze settled on Helene; then he sighed. “All right, my dear, if I must. I'll go and see what has become of Emily.”
Richard watched him walk out of the sunlit breakfast parlor with a frown. In truth, he'd half forgotten about Thomas Smith, but he certainly didn't intend to leave his father to his own devices.
Helene put down her cup and turned toward him. “Richard, did your father ever tell you about his encounter with Thomas Smith?”
“What encounter?”
Helene glanced briefly at the closed door and then moved to sit beside Richard. “For reasons that will soon become clear, Philip was reluctant to tell you about this matter.” She took a deep breath. “He would hate for you and Emily to read your mother's version of that horrible event.”
Richard took her hand. “What happened?”
“I feel awful telling you this, but as I told Philip, I think you should know. It will certainly explain why your father is so keen to get his hands on that journal.” She sighed. “One night, your father discovered Thomas Smith in your mother's bed, and there was a terrible fight. Smith was an amateur boxer, and despite your father's best efforts, Smith soon overcame him and tied him up.”
“So Father doesn't want us to know that he was bested in a fight by my mother's lover.”
Helene hesitated. “It wasn't quite that simple. Smith made Philip watch him bed your mother and then—he sodomized him.”
Richard forced himself to keep breathing and then looked deeply into Helene's eyes. “Philip told you that?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed him?”
“Of course. We have no secrets between us.” She held his gaze. “I doubt any father would wish his children, especially his daughter, to know that about him, wouldn't you?”
There was a ring of sincerity in Helene's words that struck home with Richard. He could well imagine his proud and rather reticent father hating being in the power of another man. Of course, the whole scene painted his mother and her lover in an even uglier light. But, apparently, he was becoming used to the shock of realizing his mother hadn't been quite the wronged saint she had made herself out to be.
He exhaled slowly. “What shall I tell Emily?”
Helene squeezed his hand hard. “Why not tell her that you have left everything in your father's capable hands?”
“I'll have to think on it.”
“Thank you. That is all I ask.” Helene released his hand and moved back to her original place at the table. “Do you still want breakfast? I'm sure it will be here in just a moment.”
As if on cue, the butler entered through the door bearing a heavy silver tray, and the scent of bacon, eggs, and toast assailed Richard's nostrils. Despite the shock of Helene's revelation, his appetite remained undaunted, and he made his selection from the feast on the sideboard.
Philip returned with the newspapers and took his seat at the table. He avoided Richard's gaze and disappeared behind his newspaper.
“Emily is already awake and will be down to breakfast very shortly.”
Richard nodded. “Thank you, Father.”
He crunched his way through another piece of toast and some excellent bacon. Trying to picture Philip at the mercy of another man proved quite difficult, but he had no reason to believe Helene was lying.
“Do you still intend to take Emily out and visit Mr. Smith?” Philip asked.
“No, Father, not today. I didn't come here about that.”
Philip finally lowered his paper and glanced at Helene, who smiled sweetly back at him. “Are you suggesting there might be more trouble afoot?”
“Oh, I believe there will be trouble aplenty, sir.” Richard looked up expectantly as Emily sailed into the room, her expression firm, her gaze fixed on him. “Good morning, my dear sister.”
She stopped to glare at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm sure you know.” He sipped his tea. “Do you really think he'll go through with it?”
Emily went red and turned her back on him to collect her food.
“Whatever is going on?” Philip asked.
“You'll find out fairly soon, sir,” Richard said. If it hadn't have been for Emily's obvious discomfort, he might almost have enjoyed the moment. “This news is for Emily to share.”
Emily sat opposite Richard and considered him with obvious disdain. “And who asked for your opinion?”
“In truth, Christian did last night.”
“You were at the pleasure house?”
“I was.”
“I didn't see you.”
“I'm sure you made certain of that.” Richard considered her. “Ambrose seemed rather shaken when I saw him. Did you argue?”
“Ambrose . . .” Emily stopped speaking and stared down at the polished surface of the table. “Ambrose has a perfect right to be angry with me.”
“I'd say so,” Richard murmured.
Emily swallowed hard. “You don't understand, Richard. I thought to protect him from Christian, I . . .”
“Emily,” Philip said clearly from the head of the table. “Would you care to explain exactly what is going on?”
Emily rose to her feet, and her brother and father routinely followed her. She stood poised for flight, her gaze flitting between Richard and the door.
“Perhaps you might prefer to speak to me in private?” Philip asked. “If trouble is approaching, it is always better to be prepared.”
Emily nodded and headed for the door.
“Do you want Richard or Helene to join us?” Philip inquired as he opened the door for her into his study.
“No, thank you.”
She assumed that in her absence, Richard might tell Helene what had happened between her and Jack Lennox. Helene was always very careful not to interfere in Emily's life, but for once, Emily almost wished she would. Whatever the outcome, her father was going to be disappointed in her, that was certain.
She waited until Philip sat behind his desk, clasped his hands together, and regarded her steadily.
“How can I help you, my dear?”
She looked into his familiar hazel eyes and realized anew that she was the only one in her family with dark brown eyes. But did that even matter anymore? A strong desire to weep almost overcame her. Thomas Smith had brown eyes as well. . . .
“A man might come and see you this morning about me.”
“Not the obnoxious Mr. Smith, I hope?”
“No, a gentleman, or at least I
think
he is a gentleman. He is trying to prove his rights to certain property and a title here in England.”
“And what does this particular gentleman want with me?”
Emily took a deep breath. “To offer for my hand in marriage.”
“And how long have you known this man?”
“For a few weeks.” She shrugged. “You are already acquainted with him.”
“Really.” Philip sat back, his gaze watchful. “What is his name?”
“Mr. Jack Lennox.”
“One of the twins who came here to ask Helene to write back to their grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“And he wants to marry you.”
“Apparently.”
“It seems rather sudden.”
“Why? I understand that you fell in love with Helene the moment you saw her.”
Her father's familiar wry smile appeared. “But it took me almost nineteen years to marry her.”
“Only because my mother was alive and determined to use you to conceal her affair with her gardener.”
“That is rather harsh, Emily.”
“But don't you wish she had refused to marry you?”
Philip sighed. “It is true that your mother should not have married me, but you have to understand that she was wholly in my parents' care. She had no one who could help her get out of her arranged marriage.” His gaze flicked to the family portrait on the wall. “She wasn't as strong willed as you are.”
Emily raised her chin. “Are you defending her now?”
“I'm just trying to say that we all make choices that can lead to unhappiness.”
“Your decision to marry her certainly did.” He winced and she tried to view him as a stranger and not as the father who had brought her up and always loved her. “I assume you believe marrying Jack Lennox would be another poor choice?”
“You hardly know the man, Emily, and from what I have heard, he is not exactly a catch.”
“I thought we'd long given up on the notion that I might
catch
the right man. I
thought
you were quite desperate for me to marry anyone!”
She glared at him, willing him to fight her on this, to
order
her not to marry Jack Lennox, to threaten to disinherit her if she even considered disobeying him. Then perhaps, having broken his heart, she could run back to Ambrose and stay with him forever. . . .
“Emily, my dear . . .” Philip hesitated. “I'm not quite sure why we are fighting over this, or if we are actually fighting about something else. What exactly do you want from me?”
She stared at him. “You're supposed to be my
father
. Don't you know what I want?”
All the color bleached from his face and he briefly closed his eyes, and she knew then, knew that what she had feared from her mother's letters was completely true. She stood up and backed away from him.
“Emily.” His voice was remarkably steady. “Have you seen Mr. Smith again? Is this what this is all about? I've been meaning to talk to you about—”
She jumped as the door to the study opened behind her and the butler appeared.
“Excuse me, Miss Ross, my lord, but I have a Mr. Jack Lennox here who would like to speak to you.”
Emily stood to one side and saw Jack waiting behind the butler. He winked at her as he walked into the room and bowed to Philip.
“My lord, perhaps Emily has already told you the purpose of my visit?”
Philip glanced distractedly at Emily. “This isn't the best time, Mr. Lennox, perhaps . . .”
Emily grabbed hold of Jack's hand and held it tight. “What my father is trying to say, Jack, is that he is
delighted
that you wish to marry me, and he wishes to bestow his blessing on the match.”
“My dear,” Philip said.
Emily ignored him as Jack smiled deeply into her eyes.
“I am ecstatic, Miss Ross, there is no happier man in the kingdom than I am today.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each of her fingers. “Thank you.”
Leaving Jack to face Philip, Emily retreated into the hallway and sped up the stairs. She gasped when Richard stepped out of his old room and touched her shoulder.
“Are you mad? Did you let Jack speak to Philip?” His expression was almost comical.
“Why shouldn't I? Jack
wants
to marry me.” She shied away from Richard's touch. “Was there something else you wanted? I was hoping to go and see Mr. Smith this afternoon. Would you care to accompany me?”
He regarded her steadily. “On reflection, I think we should leave Mr. Smith to Philip.”
Emily struggled to breathe. “What did Philip tell you?”
“He told me nothing. He was far too embarrassed, but I can understand why he wants the journal. Helene told me.” He continued to study her. “And, no, I can't tell you what she said. There is no reason why you need to know any of it.”
BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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