Wedded in Scandal (10 page)

He was kissing her! Lord Redhill was kissing her, and
it was
wonderful
!

Certainly she had been kissed before. There were any number of unscrupulous men who had tried to take advantage of her, especially after her father’s perfidy was known. And in truth, she had known on some level that Lord Redhill would fall into that category eventually. He was not a man to be denied anything, and if she caught his fancy—which she knew she had—then he would of course be required to act upon the impulse. He was a man, after all, and that was what men did.

So she had expected the kiss, had seen the signs, and had her defense ready. After all, she was experienced in stopping all manner of advances. In fact, that was why she had developed the fictitious persona of Mrs. Mortimer, Lord Metzger’s mistress. Lord Metzger had no more been her lover than her driver, but the widespread belief that he was her protector had helped her keep her virtue without all that unnecessary grabbing and demanding that men did. Then poor Lord Metzger had died. Lord Redhill had sauntered
into her life. And now he was doing things to her mouth that she had never imagined possible.

He’d started with a simple press of lips to hers, but at her gasp of surprise, he had swept inside. One other man had done that to her, back when she was at school, and she had choked on his invasion. She had wasted no time in shoving the man so hard he landed on his backside.

But Lord Redhill didn’t invade with such brute strength. Instead he teased her, coaxed her, and indeed, something about the sweep of his tongue, the nip of his teeth, even the delightful taste of his breath set her body to humming. Humming, by God, when she was absolutely
not
a woman who hummed.

She felt his hand at her neck, a single finger, then two, caressing beneath her jaw, slowly coaxing her head backward to rest cupped in his other hand. She couldn’t stop herself from complying. His stroke trailed fire along her skin and, unlike anything else in her life, that heat slid beneath her flesh and into her blood. And with her surrender, Lord Redhill increased his conquest. The press of his body grew harder, the penetration of her mouth more dominant.

This could not be happening. She could not allow this! Her mind screamed at her to wake up and stop him. She had to. And so she did, though it took every ounce of her willpower. She curled her hand, the one that pressed limply against his chest, and she dug her fingernails in. Then she bit down. Not hard, just a steady closing pressure that forced him to withdraw or have his tongue cut in half.

“Trust me—,” he said against her temple.

“Try that again and I shall draw blood.” Then she shoved as hard as she could with her nails against his chest.

His eyes darkened, and he did not move even so much as an inch. She had to be hurting him. Or perhaps not, given the muscles she felt beneath her fingertips. But he had to see the firm determination in her eyes. He had to, because she very much doubted she could keep it up for much longer. He was so close, his scent an intoxicating mixture of sandalwood, citrus, and something else, something drugging to her senses.

Then someone screamed.

Lord Redhill stiffened, his body jerking backward. Helaine gasped and scrambled away as well, knocking over her chair as she moved. And all that happened before she even realized who had interrupted them. But once she was on the opposite side of the room, her hand pressed to her lips in shock and simple pleasure, Helaine found the presence of mind to focus.

The screecher was Lady Gwen, Lord Redhill’s sister. The woman was petite, her cheeks flushed from the weather outside, but she was a virago of fury as she advanced upon her brother.

“Robert! How could you? How dare you! She’s my modiste!”

“Gwen!” squeaked Lord Redhill, and it was indeed a squeak. Or at least as much of a squeak as a man with a deep voice could make. “What are you doing here?”

“She is my dresser!”
snapped Lady Gwen. “Really, Robert, I expect such depravity from Father, but from you? I thought the help was safe!”

“Gwen, really, that’s not—”

Lady Gwen wasn’t listening. She spun around, turning her back on her brother in order to step forward to grasp Helaine’s shaking hands. “I am deeply sorry, Mrs. Mortimer. I cannot imagine how horrible this must be for you.”

Helaine tried to speak. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but she hadn’t the presence of mind to think of words. Her blood was still simmering with a heat that could only be described as passion. Passion! Inside her! She had long ago given up hope that any man could move her. She was
not
a passionate woman. But his kiss had stirred her. And the shock of that left her slack jawed and stupid.

“Lady Gwen,” she began, stalling for time as she tried to order her thoughts.

“No, no, don’t say anything. He is a beast to accost you in such a manner, but never fear. He has given me access to my funds, so you shall never have to see him again.”

On the opposite side of the room, Lord Redhill snorted in derision. “Gwen, you cannot think that I forced myself anywhere. I—”

Gwen spun around. “Don’t say it, Robert! Just don’t! You and I have both heard that exact faradiddle from Father countless times. What was it you told me right after you demanded he find rooms elsewhere?” Gwen tapped her finger with her chin. “Oh, yes, you said that just being titled put Father in an unfair position over the maids. Willing or not, he was
forcing
himself on them and you wouldn’t stand for it.”

Lord Redhill’s face turned a blistering shade of red. Helaine might have said he was angry, except that he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked more embarrassed. “She’s not a maid in my household, Gwen,” he said, his voice low but no less powerful.

Helaine touched Lady Gwen’s arm, her sense of justice forcing her to confess part of the truth. “Please,” she said as she drew the woman around. “Your brother has learned of my past. He was simply applying as a replacement protector.”

It took a moment for Gwen to understand what she meant, and when the information finally processed, the woman blushed to the roots of her fine blond hair. “Oh. Oh! Oh, but does that mean—”

“I have turned him down,” Helaine said.

Gwen frowned, her gaze darting between the two of them. “That was a refusal?”

Helaine sighed. “Men usually don’t take ‘no’ on the first try. Your brother is no more and no less than any other man in that regard.” She said the words and tried not to choke on them. The truth was that one kiss had shown her that Lord Redhill was a great deal more spectacular than any other man.

“Oh, well,” said Gwen, her eyes flashing fire at her brother again. “Never fear. I shall be sure to emphasize that point to him in the future.” Then she straightened and crossed to the door, hauling it open with a dramatic flourish. “I believe you have your answer, Robert. Good-bye.”

Lord Redhill’s gaze narrowed on his sister, clearly annoyed
by her high-handedness. But it was his next look—the one that rested long and heavy on Helaine—that had her squirming where she stood. It brought to mind all that they had done in the space of a few seconds, and all that might have happened had his sister not appeared precipitously. Her mouth went suddenly dry and she could not hold his gaze.

He waited an interminable minute longer, then finally spoke. “You are right, Gwen. I believe I shall take my leave. But pray, my dear, do not let my actions influence your financial decisions. Her request for early payment is not the usual course of—”

“Oh, just get out!” Gwen snapped. “You are the most pompous ass I have ever known!” And with that, the petite woman grabbed her brother’s arm and shoved him out the door. Never had Helaine seen the like, and a part of her was thrilled to see that someone was capable of putting the arrogant, managing, incredibly seductive Lord Redhill in his place. Especially as the door slammed on his behind.

“I vow you are a most amazing woman,” Helaine said. “How can I express my gratitude?”

“What? Oh, Mrs. Mortimer, you should be the one demanding my forgiveness. Really, Robert can be such a bully. But never you fear, I have been putting him in his place since he was in shortcoats. I shall most certainly continue to do so on your behalf.”

Helaine released a halfhearted laugh. On the one hand, Lady Gwen was delightful when she spoke with such righteous indignation. On the other hand, she had no wish to come between the two siblings and certainly not about something as confusing as a kiss. “Please, my lady, you will do me the greatest favor if you just forget this entire incident.”

“Of course, of course. Ring for some fresh tea, and we shall talk of something much more pleasant than my wretched brother.”

Helaine did as she was bidden, grateful to settle into a discussion of clothing and dress styles. She was able to bring out the sketches for Gwen’s trousseau that she’d done early that morning, and was pleased when the lady began to
embellish the designs to just what she desired. Gwen was working extra hard to be pleasant, and Helaine was inordinately grateful for the respite from her feelings.

And yet, no amount of time spent in fashion discourse could completely erase the memory of Lord Redhill. It could not hide the fact that her body still heated at just the thought of the handsome man. It could not prevent her lips from tingling slightly whenever she chanced to look at the chair where he had kissed her. Nor could it completely stop her wayward thoughts from reliving every sweet sensation that he had stroked to glorious life.

There was no doubt in her mind that she had just been seduced. In the space of a few seconds, the irritating man had conquered her. It mattered not that she had only given him a kiss. The horrid man had awoken something inside her and, try as she might, she couldn’t lie to herself about that simple fact.

He had seduced her, and what made it even worse was that the whole thing had nothing to do with attraction. Well, perhaps
she
was attracted to
him
, and she would go to her grave regretting that. But
he
wasn’t attracted to
her
. Not in the usual way.

His offer, and consequent seduction, was simply about asserting dominance. She and Francine had bested him. They had all but called him an idiot, and they had done it in front of Anthony, another man. What was any male’s reaction to humiliation? Why, sexual domination, of course. And she had succumbed! For the space of a few heartbeats, she had given in to his dominance like any weak-willed woman.

Oh, what a fool she was! After all, she wasn’t a young girl, innocent to the ways of men. Her naïveté had been stripped away the moment her father’s name had been destroyed. Then all manner of men had shown up, planning to take what her father could not defend. None of them had counted on her strength of character, on her resilience, or on her changing her name to become a dressmaker. She had resources beyond becoming someone’s mistress!

And so she would tell him if she ever saw him again.
And God forbid he should try anything like that on her again! She was prepared now. She would put him in his place so fast, his head would be ringing for a week!

If…When…She bit her lip and tried to get hold of her raging temper. She was only angry at herself. After all, he was acting as all men did. Meanwhile, she had a customer—and one whom she desperately needed to charm.

Sadly, that was where they encountered a problem. It turned out that Lady Gwen had indeed heard her brother’s warnings. She was not in the least bit inclined to pay even so much as a groat ahead of time. Or, at least, she wasn’t unless Helaine agreed to a rather spectacularly bad idea.

“I-I’m sorry?” Helaine stammered. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you exactly.” She had, in fact, heard everything clearly, but couldn’t believe the request.

“Well, you see,” Lady Gwen began, obviously embarrassed and yet excited at the same time, “my brother might be obnoxious, but he did impress upon me that proper management of money required thought and maturity. He did say—”

“Yes, I know,” Helaine interrupted. “He believes that advance payment is a ridiculous notion. But we are in a special circumstance.”

“I know, I know! Which is why my solution works perfectly!”

Helaine sighed. “My dear, you are a gently bred woman. Commerce requires something of a less refined nature.”

“But you are a gently bred woman as well. Don’t try to deny it. I can hear it in your voice.”

She was right. Helaine had once traveled in the most elite circles. But that was a long time ago. “Lady Gwen—”

“No, no! My mind is quite made up. If you wish to make my trousseau, then you must simply allow me to go with you to purchase the cloth. I wish to see everything. Then I can pay the merchants directly—and on credit, I might add—and you shall have what you need to make my clothing!”

Helaine tried not to squirm in her seat. Lady Gwen had
no idea what would be involved in purchasing the items required. Especially since some of these merchants could be downright nasty. “But if you have the money, there is no reason to purchase on credit.”

The girl brightened considerably at that. “Well, that is where you are wrong! Robert talked to me about interest. Said having money earns more money! Just imagine! It simply earns money because you have not spent it. Therefore, credit makes the best sense of all. I get to earn interest, and you still have the wherewithal to buy fabric and the like.”

Fabric, yes. Tomorrow’s dinner, no. But she couldn’t say that. In truth, as a businesswoman, Helaine had learned about the miracle of interest as well. Except, of course, they never had enough money to earn interest.

“That’s all very clever of you,” Helaine began, “but you don’t understand the locations I must go to get things. And truthfully, I have just entered an arrangement with another lady to purchase things on my behalf. She is much more capable of handling herself in the rougher locations. Lace, for example, is often negotiated right on the docks.”

Far from being deterred, Lady Gwen actually clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, my! That does sound like an adventure.”