A Common Scandal Page 12

  “What? What prize?”

  “He gets to kiss you!”

  The room erupted in titters and laughter as Amelia fumed. “I’ve never heard of such a rule.”

  “Oh, haven’t you?” Kitty said slyly. “It’s all the rage in our set.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Nate snapped.

  “You don’t mean to deprive me of my prize, do you, Miss Wheeler?” The smile on Cheadle’s face made her nauseous, but Kitty and Evelyn wouldn’t rest until they’d taken it out of her hide. She resigned herself to the inevitable.

  “Of course not.” She smiled sweetly, but when Cheadle made to lean in and kiss her, she raised her hand in front of his face. “There. You may kiss me.”

  He scowled, but took her fingers in his. No gloves to protect her skin from his lips this time, which he took advantage of, pressing the kiss to her knuckles for an uncomfortably long time. She would have to scour her hand for an hour to rid herself of the dampness. The instant he released her, she snatched her hand away.

  “I think it’s time for you to pick another name, Evelyn,” Nate said.

  “Oh, all right. What great fun this is, isn’t it?”

  While Evelyn chose another name from the hat, Nate reached out and touched Amelia’s elbow. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. That was Kitty paying me back for her dress. You see? I’m getting what I have coming to me.”

  “Amelia...” he began, but Evelyn called out a name and cut him off.

  “It’s Lord Radwill! Radwill, come forward to be blindfolded!”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be very good at this.” Radwill gave the blindfold a dubious look.

  “Oh, nonsense. You just reach out and grab someone. You saw how easy Amelia was.” Behind Evelyn, Kitty gasped and tittered. Evelyn covered her mouth and laughed, too. “Oh, dear. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Of course she’d meant it precisely like that. This was exactly what Amelia had expected to come of this invitation, but still, it made it no easier to bear. Radwill was blindfolded and spun around, and once again, everyone scattered. This time Amelia kept the wall at her back and one eye on Evelyn and Kitty. They were across the room, whispering and giggling together. Perhaps she could escape this round unscathed.

  Radwill was laughing as he lunged about the room. He nearly caught Julia, who shrieked and ran away. To Nate. She stumbled into his arms, laughing and breathless, turning her face up to him as she did. He smiled back down at her, bending his head down to whisper something near her ear. They looked very well together, both fair and attractive. What a lovely couple they would make.

  “Who have I caught?”

  With a start, Amelia realized she’d been seized around the waist again while she was distracted by Nate and Julia. How stupid of her. But unlike Cheadle, Radwill didn’t use it as an opportunity to grope her inappropriately. Instead, the dear man seemed to be giving the challenge serious thought.

  “Let’s see...small in stature. That rules out Miss Sanbourne, as she’s rather tall and robust. Somewhat shapely, which rules out Miss Ponsoy, who is much thinner.” Across the room both Evelyn and Kitty bristled at Radwill’s unintentional insult. His brows knitted together in concentration. There was something rather adorable about his earnest effort. His hands still rested on her waist, but not at all like Cheadle’s had, grasping and caressing. He leaned forward until his face nearly touched her neck. He had no idea he was so close to her, but the effect was rather intimate nonetheless. “Ah...” he murmured. “Honeysuckle. I recognize this lovely fragrance. I believe I have Miss Wheeler in my arms.”

  “So you do, Lord Radwill.”

  He pushed the blindfold up and grinned, without a hint of Cheadle’s leer. Despite Kitty’s and Evelyn’s attempts to triumph over her, they might have unwittingly handed her a golden opportunity. One close encounter with Radwill might be all it took to prompt a proposal.

  Amelia gave him her most inviting smile. “Shall you claim your prize, then?”

  Behind his glasses, he blinked as her meaning became clear. This time she didn’t raise her hand to kiss. She held still, his hands still resting on her waist. Never had she wished so hard for something she didn’t really want. But if he would just do it, the whole thing could be settled. Radwill swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing over his shirt collar. Then, slowly, he leaned toward her.

  “I think we’ve had about enough of this game,” Nate barked from across the room.

  Radwill startled and looked away, dropping his hands from her waist. Blast Nate. She’d nearly had him. Now he looked too flustered to ever attempt such a thing again.

  “Come on, Evelyn. Choose a different game,” Nate urged.

  “Yes, perhaps something less intimate,” Kitty snapped, eyeing Amelia and Radwill. Since the game had made Amelia the center of attention, and not in the negative way Kitty had intended, she seemed to have soured on it.

  “How about sardines?” Will Thistlethwaite suggested.

  Oh, no. Sardines was as much of an invitation for trouble as blind man’s bluff. Even more so, as they’d be scattered through the house alone. Apparently this group was set on trouble, though, because the room erupted in approval.

  “Yes, sardines would be the very thing,” Robbie Ponsoy called out.

  “I agree,” Tony Batchelder murmured from where he was sprawled on the sofa. He gave Evelyn a knowing wink. “Sardines sounds perfect.”

  Evelyn laughed, flushing slightly. “Sardines it is!”

  “Who should be it?” Kitty asked.

  “I’ll pull another name from the hat, shall I?” Evelyn reached in and withdrew a slip of paper. She unfolded it and a smile of unholy glee lit her features. “Amelia Wheeler.”

  “That is bad luck, Miss Wheeler,” Tony smirked. She scowled at him. Shiftless reprobate.

  What did I do to deserve such torment? But she forced a sunny smile. Maybe Radwill would find her first and she could get that kiss out of him. “Shall I go hide myself?”

  There was some general discussion about the rules and it was determined the game should be confined to the ground floor, which meant the bedrooms were off-limits, thankfully. The rest of the party settled themselves in the parlor as Amelia slipped from the room and ran to hide herself in an unfamiliar house.

  * * *

  Nate stalked down the dimly lit hallway, cursing entitled rich girls and house parties and foolish parlor games. The party had spread out through the ground floor in high spirits. No doubt several people had coupled off into secluded corners for a bit of mischief before continuing on with the game. Meanwhile, Amelia was hiding somewhere in the dark and he would be damned if any other man in that room found her first. Not Cheadle and, after the scene in the parlor, she’d be left alone with Radwill over his dead body. He’d nearly kissed her. She’d nearly let him. Watching it transpire had unleashed feelings in him that didn’t bear close examination.

  Unlike the other men hunting her, he knew Amelia. Finding her didn’t pose a very great challenge. He headed straight for her favorite spot.

  In the empty entry hall of Tewsmere, he stopped and looked around. Facing the front door was the grand main staircase. It rose one story to a landing before branching off at right angles to the upper floors. Nate headed toward the stairs and ducked around to the side. It was dark here, with only two gaslight wall sconces to light the entry hall. He used his hands, running them along the wooden panels of the staircase side. Finally, he felt it—a ridge indicating a door. The hidden door to an understairs storeroom. A handful of times when they were children, Amelia had sneaked him into her house in Portsmouth, and the tiny cupboard under the stairs had been where they’d hidden. She’d called it her secret cave.

  There was no doorknob, but when he pressed, he felt the latch release and the door swung inward.

&n
bsp; “Who’s there?” Amelia hissed from the black void beyond. Nate said nothing, slipping inside and pressing the door closed behind him. It was so dark he could scarcely see his hand in front of his face. Only tiny slivers of light glowed between cracks in the staircase treads overhead. Where he’d entered he could stand upright...just, but the space shrunk down toward the foot of the staircase, where Amelia’s voice had come from.

  “Who are you?” she demanded again.

  “Just an old friend come to keep you out of trouble.”

  He heard her exhale. “Oh, it’s only you.”

  “Waiting for Cheadle to come accost you again?”

  “Heaven forbid.”

  “Or maybe you’re hoping Radwill will come finish what he started.”

  She sniffed. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It had better be none of his business,” Nate muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Where are you?”

  “Over here.”

  “That’s not entirely helpful, Amelia. I can’t see.”

  “In the corner on the—”

  “Ouch!”

  “—old settee.”

  Nate rubbed his shin where it had cracked against the leg of the settee, lurking in the dark. As his eyes began to adjust to the meager light, he could just make out its shape, and perched in its corner, the pale smudge of Amelia’s dress.

  “How did you find me so fast?”

  He sat down on the settee next to her, hunching forward slightly to avoid hitting his head on the underside of the stairs. “I knew where to look.”

  She smiled. Her teeth flashed white in the gloom. “You remembered.”

  “Your secret cave? Yes, I remembered. Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The business with Evelyn and Kitty back in the parlor.”

  “Oh, that.” Her voice sounded flat and emotionless. “I’m quite used to it. I knew they’d be after me one way or another when Evelyn invited me.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  She sighed. He could feel the disturbance in the air, the slight warming of her breath against the side of his face. And he could smell her perfume. The bloody honeysuckle that had enchanted Radwill. Funny how the darkness brought all the other senses into sharp focus. “Radwill’s here, and I need to find a husband. I’m expected to marry.”

  Not Radwill again. “But why this instant if you don’t want it? Surely there’s time...”

  “This is the end of my third Season. I’m nearly on the shelf. My father is out of patience with me.”

  “Hang your father. Don’t do it to please your father.”

  “I’m not. I’m doing it for my mother. She—” Amelia stopped, swallowed hard and continued. “She might not see another year. And she asked me—no, she begged me—to make a good match, to settle myself. So you see, I have to. I’ve always disappointed her. In this one thing, I can make her happy. It’s the least I can do.”

  “But what about you? Do you think Radwill will make you happy?”

  “My happiness has never been much of a factor.”

  “But—”

  “And I suppose you’re pursuing Julia Harrow because she’ll make you the happiest of men?”

  “That’s different. It’s business.”

  “So is this, Nate.”

  He hated the note of apathy in her voice. She was resigned, defeated, as if her life was already over, her future already settled. She was packing herself up for that dreary Radwill like a suitcase full of old clothes. “This isn’t the Amelia I know. The girl I knew would fight for what she wanted.”

  He couldn’t see her clearly, but he could sense her. He could feel her temper when it flared to life. The air around her nearly crackled with it.

  “This is me fighting, Nate. I could sit back and let my father pick for me and find myself married to someone like Cheadle or worse. Some nasty, desperate wretch who can’t stand me but needs my money. Or I can act and choose for myself. Radwill may not please you, but I don’t care. I don’t recall asking for your approval.”

  “Well, good, because I don’t approve.”

  Amelia growled in frustration, a wild sound, waking something animal in him. She was too close, too warm, too vibrant.

  She shoved his arm. “I don’t approve of you either. Pursuing that nice Julia Harrow because you want to do business with her father. Don’t you dare judge me, Nate. You’re no better than me.”

  He hated himself before he even reached for her, but it didn’t stop him. “Apparently not,” he murmured, and then he hauled her up against him and kissed her.

  Because she was Amelia, there were more heated words on the tip of her tongue, but she let them go in a breathy moan. He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head and holding her still as he plundered her lush, warm mouth. She grasped at his upper arms, then his shoulders before sliding her hands into his hair, too.

  In the heated, close darkness, the kiss spiraled on. It became more kisses. He left her mouth to kiss her cheek, her neck, the hollow at the base of her throat. Her head fell back and her chest heaved as her breathing grew ragged. His hand found her breast as he scraped her collarbone with his teeth. Grasping his hair, she wrenched his head back up to kiss him again.

  “Amelia, we should stop,” he groaned against her mouth. “Someone could come.”

  “No one has yet.”

  “We shouldn’t...”

  “No one has to know. Please.”

  Her whispered “please” threatened to undo him. And when she swung her leg across his and straddled his lap, he knew he was a lost man. How could he possibly tell her no? Not when she was pressed against him, so hot and eager. Perhaps in the light of day, perhaps if they were in a library or parlor or garden...perhaps he’d have been able to think clearly and set her aside.

  But they weren’t. They were hidden away in this forgotten, dark corner. She was astride him, hands in his hair, hot breath brushing his lips, thighs clenched on either side of his, and there was no way on earth or in heaven he could resist her.

  He crushed her mouth under his again, reaching down and finding the hem of her dress. So many layers of skirt and petticoat, but he found her ankle underneath it all and slid his hand up around her curvy leg. He was hard and aching for her. It would be so easy to push this silken pile of fabric up to her waist and settle her over him, to plunge into her softness and hold her there until this maddening lust was slaked.

  It was impossible. He couldn’t ruin her that way. But this... kissing her and touching her for another moment. Perhaps they could go a little further without disaster. He found the edge of her stocking, her garters and her bare thigh above it, and then her powder-soft skin.

  Her hands raced over his arms and chest, sliding under his tailcoat and lower, across his abdomen. Cursing himself, cursing his weakness and certain he was doomed to hell, he grasped her wrist and pressed her palm right to his cock where it strained against the fly of his trousers.

  “Oh...” she sighed, and her fingers tentatively stroked the long ridge of him. “I’ve never...”

  A ragged groan ripped from his throat and his head fell back. “Amelia...”

  “It’s so... Oh.” Her hand gripped him tentatively.

  “Harder,” he growled. She pressed more firmly. “Harder.” She squeezed and he thought he might explode. “Yes. Good God, yes.” Holding her face close to his, he gasped for air as she did her best to touch him through his clothes. “I want you so badly.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  His other hand was still on her thigh, stroking, sliding higher.

  “I want to put my mouth on you.”

  She moaned, writhing in his grip. “Yes.�
��

  Dragging his lips down her cheek and across her throat, he nipped at her collarbone before descending lower. The swells of her breasts were smooth under his tongue, and she shivered as he traced a path across them with his mouth.

  Amelia’s questing fingers slid across the rigid swell of him—gripped and stroked as best she could through the fabric. Perhaps he could unbutton a few buttons and slide her hand inside. She’d touch him—he was sure she would. Amelia was no timid girl. She was vibrant and sensual and ready for him. Already his fingertips were brushing the crease at the top of her thigh. A few more inches and he could find her center, touch her until she came apart in his arms. He groaned again imagining it. Amelia rocked herself against him. He couldn’t deny himself or her any longer. He had to...

  “I’m certain she didn’t come this far, Mr. Cheadle!”

  They froze, mouths inches apart, Amelia’s gasp fluttering across his lips. Her eyes were wide and frightened in the dark. He pushed her off his lap. “Put yourself to rights. I’ll take care of it.”

  She nodded wordlessly and tucked herself back into the corner, smoothing her hair as best as she could without a mirror. Nate stood and winced, grateful for the low ceiling requiring him to bend over. It helped disguise the painful bulge in his trousers. Never had he been this hard and this frustrated. He ran his hand over his hair, straightened his tailcoat and made his way back to the little hidden door. Releasing the latch, he opened it a crack and saw Cheadle and Julia looking about the entry hall.

  “In here before you bring the whole party after you,” he whispered.

  Julia spun around. “Oh, Mr. Smythe! You frightened me. Look, Mr. Cheadle, Mr. Smythe has found Amelia. What a clever hiding place.”

  Cheadle eyed Nate and ran a finger over his thin moustache. “Indeed. Very clever. So well concealed.”

  They both ducked inside the cupboard under the stairs.

  “It’s quite dark, isn’t it?”

  “Back here, Julia,” Amelia called, sounding completely calm, almost bored, in fact. “Keep your voice down or they’ll hear you on the stairs.”

  “Who else has found you?”