Read Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) Online
Authors: Kathleen Ayers
“Why? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” How to explain to
her that he’d desired her from the moment he’d seen her in Lord Dobson’s
library? He couldn’t explain it himself.
Alexandra said nothing for a
moment. “I see.” Gray eyes flashed. The tiny chin lifted at a
mulish tilt. A curl popped from its confines. She wet her lips
nervously. “I suppose that will have to do.”
Sutton grabbed the back of her head and
took her lips in a possessive kiss that left no room for his intentions to be
misconstrued. Her mouth opened under his, tongues twining about
each other.
Alexandra sighed. The shawl fell to the
floor exposing the tops of her breasts. Another curl sprang free.
He pulled his mouth from hers and gave
her a hard look. “This wedding can not happen soon enough. Consider
yourself betrothed. Again.”
The wedding ceremony took place at Gray
Covington. Sutton did not wish to marry in London, surrounded by the
curious glare of society and Jeanette’s malicious tongue. The Dowager
produced a minister who claimed to have married Sutton’s parents.
Reverend Winkle was old and shriveled, like an overripe apple. His coat
smelled of mothballs, and he had to be assisted into Gray Covington by a brace
of footmen, each instructed not to allow the Reverend Winkle to
fall. Due to the circumstances surrounding the marriage, only the
Dowager and Miranda were present.
“My lady?” A footman appeared at
Alexandra’s elbow intending to serve her a slice of roasted pheasant. She
nodded in approval and tried to enjoy her wedding dinner. Nervous,
but trying desperate not to show it, she pretended to examine the
pheasant. The food smelled delicious, but Alexandra had no appetite.
Her husband watched her down the long,
beautifully set table while Miranda chattered enthusiastically to the partially
deaf Reverend Winkle.
“How is your pheasant, my dear?,” inquired
the Dowager.
“The pheasant is exceedingly delicious,” Alexandra
murmured. She put her wineglass to her lips. Her mind kept
wandering. What awaited her after this extravagant dinner? She felt the
heat rise in her cheeks.
“I was not aware of my bride’s love for
pheasant. I was under the impression she favored peacock.”
Alexandra sputtered and choked on the
wine.
Amused at her discomfort, a smile hovered
on her husband’s lips.
She gave him an evil glare. Vile
man!
The Dowager looked at them both
askance. “May we continue with dinner or must I endure more of what I
assume passes for flirtation?”
“Flirtation? Grandmother we are
speaking of fowl! Birds!” Sutton lifted his brows in confusion.
“Hmmph.” The Dowager stabbed at her
pheasant with her fork. Alexandra could see she was trying not to laugh.
The rest of the dinner passed in a
blur. By the time the dessert was served, an elaborate cherry confection
that the cook had shaped into a heart, Alexandra found herself nearly bursting
from her seat with fear and anticipation.
“Lady Reynolds?” Sutton’s voiced
spilled over her in a caress. Without her knowing, he’d left his seat and
now stood at her side. “I believe it’s time we retired.” He took
Alexandra’s arm. “Grandmother, Miranda, we bid you a good night.”
Sutton guided her to the bottom of the
stairs where Alexandra’s newly assigned maid, Sadie, stood waiting.
“I’ll be up shortly, Alex.” Sutton
spun on his heel and headed down one of the darkened corridors of Gray
Covington. Alexandra regarded Sadie who watched Sutton with an adoring
look. Alexandra shrugged and started up the steps. Half the
maids at Gray Covington sighed over him in such a manner. Sutton seemed
oblivious. The situation would only be worse in London.
“Ahem.” Alexandra cleared her throat from
her position on the steps to encourage the maid to follow her.
The maid startled, giving Alexandra a
guilty look. Sadie was a sweet girl with bright red hair and a dense collection
of freckles about her nose. She also possessed a mischievous disposition
and the ability to tame the wildness of Alexandra’s hair when not mooning over
Sutton.
Alexandra tried to look stern but ended
up smiling. The Dowager had instructed her to not be quite so familiar
with the staff, although the Dowager’s rules did not seem to apply to the
Dowager’s relationship with Harry, the footman.
“Sorry, my lady. Lord Reynolds fair
takes your breath away,” Sadie said in a conspiratorial whisper. “And now
he’s your husband.”
Alexandra placed a hand on her stomach to
quell the mix of nervous excitement. “Indeed he is.”
Sadie nodded and took a lamp off a nearby
table. She led Alexandra up the sweeping grand staircase of Gray
Covington towards the family wing. The room Alexandra occupied for the
last few weeks as she went through the laudanum withdrawal was on the other
side of the staircase. Her brow wrinkled. Those were dark
days for Alexandra. Sweating, sleepless nights where she dreamed that
she’d married Runyon and he’d tortured her endlessly.
“Here we are.” Sadie stood between
two doors and opened the one on the right.
Alexandra regarded the second door.
She knew that must be her husband’s bedroom but she refused to contemplate
it. Thinking of Sutton’s dragon tattoo winding about his body made
Alexandra blush to her toes.
“Lead on,” she instructed Sadie.
Several lamps flickered in the darkness,
giving the room a haloed glow. A fire crackled in the hearth. Light
shone on walls hung with green damask, embroidered with the woodland animals
and insects Alexandra remembered from the Dowager’s parlor. Alexandra
turned her back to Sadie to allow the maid help her undress when a knock
sounded.
Both women looked up as a connecting door
opened to reveal Sutton. He no longer wore a coat and even in the dim
light, the outline of the dragon tattoo could be clearly seen beneath the fine
lawn of his shirt. He sauntered towards them, his eyes never leaving
Alexandra’s face. The look he gave her made her feel…
unclothed
.
She blushed.
Sadie stood agog next to Alexandra.
Sutton ignored the maid.
“Hello, Badger.” He snapped a
finger at Sadie. “Bring up a hot bath in two hours. To my room.”
Sadie jumped at his command, nodded
mutely, and scurried out the door.
“You’ve frightened Sadie,” Alexandra said
stupidly as her husband maneuvered her to the connecting door leading to his
suite of rooms.
Sutton shrugged. “After you.”
When Alexandra faltered, Sutton gave her a not so gentle push.
She turned to glare over her shoulder at
him.
He was grinning at her. His
fingertips ran along her arm. “Come, Alex. Come into the dragon’s
den. I promise I don’t bite. Much.”
Horrid man! Teasing her at this
most
inopportune
moment. Torn between a sharp retort or simply
pressing kisses all over his face, she did neither. The conflict was most
disconcerting.
The room before her left no doubt it
belonged to the master of Gray Covington. Dark burgundy drapes hung from
the windows, matching the coverlet on what was the largest bed Alexandra had
ever seen. She would be lost between the covers of the bed in a thrice
and Sutton would never find her. An expedition would be launched to locate her
whereabouts in the giant bed. She giggled.
“I see you find our wedding night
amusing. Not quite the reaction I sought but..”
Alexandra gave his stomach a soft punch,
surprising him.
He grabbed her hand. He kissed the
tip of her fingers, sucking on digit into his mouth.
Alexandra pulled her hand back, feeling
the touch of lips and tongue down the whole of her body.
How was that
possible?
“I was thinking, that I shall become lost in the depths of
that giant bed. It will swallow me whole. Not even your Lord Bishop
would be able to find me.”
“But I would. I am an expert at
hunting Badgers.”
Sutton’s playful words warmed her.
Some of the tension over this evening faded. Alexandra let her gaze run over
the rest of the room. Maps covered one far wall along with a large stack
of periodicals and books. Sheaves of paper and several inkwells were
scattered across a desk that looked as if the legs had been gnawed on by beavers.
The room was at odds with the image of Satan Reynolds. This room declared
who her husband actually was, not the cultivated image the
ton
saw.
Two portraits sat on the large wooden
mantel above the fireplace. She wandered over, conscious of Sutton watching
her. She stood on tiptoe to get a closer look at the two tiny
portraits. Alexandra knew who they were immediately. Sutton’s
face stared at her from the miniature. No, she thought, not his face
exactly but his resemblance to his father was markedly strong. The other
miniature must be Sutton’s mother. Another portrait of Madeline hung in
the music conservatory. The Dowager told Alexandra that Jeanette had tried
mightily to have the portrait taken down, but Sutton’s father forbade it.
Alexandra looked closely at the miniature. The winsome beauty
seemed to be laughing at some private joke, her eyes crinkled, and a slight
smile touched her mouth.
“My parents. Robert and
Madeline.” Alexandra could hear the slight ache in his voice from across
the room. She knew what it was like to not know one’s mother.
“I never knew my mother either.”
She gave him a regretful smile. “I remember her taking me to my Aunt
Eloise when I was very young. She put me on a coach with a note pinned to
my cloak.” Alexandra turned back to the picture of Madeline. “I never saw
her after that. She never even checked to make sure I made it to Helmsby
Abbey.”
“I’m so sorry, Badger.” Sutton came
up behind her and put his hands on his shoulders.
Alexandra inhaled the cinnamon smell of
her husband, reveling in his nearness and the comfort she drew from him.
“Aunt Eloise raised me and was a most wonderful mother.”
Sutton changed the subject. “Let us
have some wine.” A dark flame burned in the depths of his green eyes.
Sutton strolled to the table, and poured
two glasses of wine. He took one glass and carried it to a large chair that sat
before the fire. He took a sip of the wine and casually swirled the red
liquid around in the glass as he watched Alexandra.
The nervousness returned. Alexandra
tilted her neck back and pretended to study the ceiling.
“Come here, Alex.” Sutton’s long
fingers beckoned her from across the room. His eyes glowed like green
coals. He threw one long leg over the side of the chair and sipped his
wine.
Suddenly afraid, she lifted her head,
trying to think of something witty to say.
Sutton laughed. “Don’t be
contrary. Well, you may be, but just now I wish you to do as I ask.
Don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of it.”
Alexandra perched on the edge of the
chair across from him. The dragon’s tail moved, clearly visible through
the shirt, as he took a deep breath. She wanted to run her fingers over
it.
“Tell me what you want, Alex.” His
voice, deep and melodic, caressed her. The wine glass dangled carelessly
from his hand. His gaze fixed on her.
It was rather like being hypnotized by a
cobra, Alexandra thought. She licked her lips. Her curiosity
finally got the better of her. “I – I want to see the dragon
tattoo. I’m quite interested in how it was drawn and -“
“Liar. You are a terrible, horrible
liar. Can you not ask me for what you want? I cannot guess at
everything, as your mind is most complicated. What do you really want?”
The green eyes took on a slightly lecherous glint.
Alexandra twirled a strand of her hair
nervously. Right then she hated Sutton. “There are times, my lord,
when I think of you as a horrid man.”
Sutton gave a wry smile.
“Indeed. I am vile. I torture virginal badgers.”
She cleared her throat. “I should like
you to take off your shirt so that I may examine your tattoo.”
“Because it intrigues your love of
art?” his husky whisper responded.
Alexandra’s skin prickled pleasurably at
his words. Boldly, she replied, “No, because it arouses me.”
There. She said it. Damn him. He was deliberately baiting
her.
A deep rumbling, erotic sound erupted
from Sutton’s chest. “Was that so difficult, Badger?” He set the glass on
a side table and stood in one fluid moment. His features caught the
firelight, shadowing and giving mystery to his face. Dark ribbons of
hair, like black satin, swung about his shoulders. The tiny jade figure
glinted from his ear. Sutton looked for all the world like a
pirate. He just needed a knife between his teeth. An ache started between
her thighs.
“I fear my fingers are too big for the
buttons. I am clumsy from having so much wine. Come help me, Alex.”