A Common Scandal Read online

  “I see.” Amelia murmured, completely at a loss as to how to proceed. Julia seemed lost, as well. She might have peculiar notions of how to carry on a conversation, but Amelia was finding it difficult to hate Julia. Just like Percy Cholmondeley, she was so inherently decent, it was impossible to scorn her, even when Amelia remembered Nate’s blatant interest in her.

  “Oh, look!” Julia cried. “Mr. Smythe has arrived.”

  Perhaps she could hate her just a little bit.

  Nate had indeed arrived in the same carriage as Lord Radwill, and was now talking to Lord Tewsbury by the entrance to the parlor. When he glanced around the room, his gaze fell on her. And stayed. She’d spent the past several weeks convincing herself what had happened on the terrace at the Longvilles’ house was an anomaly. She and Nate had been poking at each other all evening and it had finally erupted in a most unexpected way. It was hardly even worth dwelling upon because it was never happening again.

  But when his eyes found hers, even from across the parlor, the shock of awareness down her spine froze her on the spot. Lord, she wished it could happen again.

  She’d been kissed a handful of times, brief encounters in darkened hallways or gardens, by one or another bland Society boy. Each time, she’d let it happen hoping to feel that spark, that madness, she read about, but she never did. In every case, all she had to say about the experience was “awkward, fumbling and distressingly damp.” None of those words applied to Nate’s kiss. There’d been nothing uncertain about the way he’d grabbed her and hauled her up against him. Nothing fumbling about the way his mouth had covered hers, coaxing her lips open and exploring her with his tongue. And there might have been dampness, but it was far from unpleasant. It was amazing how simply thinking about his kiss could cause her entire body to respond.

  And now she was all but blushing and she’d missed everything Julia had said. With a monumental effort she dragged her eyes away from Nate and forced them back to Julia. It didn’t matter, however, because in moments Nate had crossed the room to join them and now she couldn’t help but look at him, so tall and broad and looming over her.

  “Lady Julia. Miss Wheeler. How delightful to see you both again.”

  “Hello, Mr. Smythe. I’ve been discussing Portsmouth’s harbor with Miss Wheeler. Do join us. I’m sure you, in particular, would have a great deal to contribute to our conversation.”

  Amelia shot him a desperate glance, beseeching him with her eyes. Nate smirked. He bloody smirked, the insufferable rascal.

  “I think the others are heading upstairs to freshen up. However, I’d love to tell you all I know about the harbor later this evening, Lady Julia. Perhaps your father might like to join us.”

  Amelia looked from Nate to Julia, and suddenly Nate’s particular interest in Lady Julia made perfect sense. He was after her father’s company. She was relieved to an embarrassing degree that his interests were so mercenary. It was the ships, not the girl, he was after.

  “I’d rather talk to you all by myself,” Julia replied, smiling up at him.

  And then it dawned on her—it didn’t matter what Nate’s motives in pursuing her were. Whether he was driven by money or true love, if he was successful, the outcome would be the same. He’d marry Lady Julia. She watched them smiling at each other with their shared moment and fought down the tangle of unpleasant emotions making themselves known. Whatever lay behind this alliance, she was clearly closed out of it.

  She drew herself up straight and looked around the room. Hadn’t Radwill arrived? Nate was pursuing a spouse for purely practical reasons? Well, so was she, and hiding away with Julia wasn’t getting the job done.

  “Yes, it does look as if everyone is going upstairs,” she said, a bit too loudly.

  “Lady Julia?” Nate asked, extending his arm to her. “Might I escort you upstairs?”

  Julia threw him one of her unreadable smiles and laid her hand on his arm. “Yes, of course you may. Amelia, I’ll see you before dinner?”

  Amelia looked from Julia to Nate and back again. “You certainly will.”

  Amelia escorted herself upstairs.

  Chapter Seven

  Nate gave himself a last examination in the mirror. As a rule, he didn’t care much about his appearance—he didn’t even employ a valet—but the men he was about to mingle with downstairs most certainly did care, and they’d be looking for anything lacking in him. Every detail was perfect: a Savile Row evening suit—the same tailor who dressed Prince Edward—neatly combed hair and a close shave. When he spoke, it was with the same cultured accent of every gentleman in the room. In a crowd, no one should be able to mark him out as a lowly sailor’s son. But somehow the aristocracy always knew.

  Growing his company had taught him a few things about the business world and how to get things done. Purchasing ships and drumming up contracts in the European ports had been, in retrospect, fairly easy. He’d done it on his own, and in many respects, he’d succeeded admirably. But whenever he paused to consider the growth of Smythe Shipping, Royal Eastern was there, a mile ahead of him. Royal Eastern managed to scoop up several lucrative government contracts and investments, even though Nate had lobbied hard for them. At first he’d been at a loss, then the reason became clear. Royal Eastern was owned by the Earl of Hyde, and those government contracts were decided on in Parliament, likely voted on by a cadre of men Hyde had known all his life. The aristocracy took care of its own in every way. That left Nate no choice but to infiltrate their ranks.

  Tonight would be his first chance to meet Hyde himself. If the man showed any understanding of his own company, Nate was prepared to abandon his designs on Julia and pursue her father instead. It was the way he’d prefer things, to be honest. But if Hyde was resistant to doing business with him, he was ready to hit the aristocracy where they lived. He’d use that bloody pride of theirs as a weapon to get what he wanted. Let’s see if they continued to deny him when he was married to the daughter of an earl, in control of her father’s company.

  He arrived downstairs for dinner a bit early, which was his goal. As expected a few gentlemen loitered about in the drawing room, waiting for the ladies to appear, Lord Hyde among them. He was standing with Lord Spalding, who Nate had met briefly once before. The moment could not be more auspicious. Lord Spalding sat on the committee for the Crown’s procurements in the House of Lords. He advised on all manner of government contracts. Spalding might very well be the reason Hyde landed those contracts, all because Spalding and Hyde were probably members of the same club or old chums at Oxford or shared some equally irrelevant connection.

  “Lord Spalding,” he said as he joined them.

  “Mr. Smythe. I had no idea you were joining the guests for this house party,” Spalding said, the tightness around his mouth letting Nate know it had been unwelcome news. Their bastion of aristocracy had been breached by tradesmen. In this game of veiled insults, he couldn’t slam his fist into Spalding’s face. There was too much at stake.

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to it,” he lied easily. “It’s nice to visit the country now and then.”

  “Indeed. Mr. Smythe, may I present Lord Hyde? Lord Hyde, Mr. Smythe, of Portsmouth.”

  “I’m honored,” Nate said, shaking Hyde’s hand. “But I’m only partly in Portsmouth these days. I have London offices and spend a fair amount of time in Lisbon and Marseilles, as well.”

  “And what is it you do, Mr. Smythe?” Hyde asked with the barely concealed disdain the aristocracy used whenever discussing something as distasteful as earning a living.

  No matter. This was the opening he’d been waiting for. “I own a shipping concern. An interest we share, I believe. Smythe Shipping is my company, and of course, you own Royal Eastern. I’ve followed your growth for some time.”

  Hyde looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Ah, yes, my...business agent sees to the company
details.”

  “Of course.” It was as he’d expected. Hyde knew nothing about his own company. Nate had learned the industry from the bottom up. Yes, now he sat in an office and largely oversaw the business on paper, but when he calculated the number of deckhands a ship would need for a run, his knowledge came from having scrubbed and tended those decks with his own two hands. He’d held nearly every job on board a ship, from the bottom to the top. He might not know Latin like Hyde, but he’d challenge any man, no matter how highborn, to run his business better than he.

  “Ah, look. A few of the ladies are beginning to come down for dinner.”

  Nate took the hint and bowed slightly. “Perhaps we’ll have a chance to continue our conversation after dinner.”

  “Indeed,” Hyde said, not meaning it at all.

  It didn’t matter, as Nate had learned everything he needed to know about Hyde’s role in Royal Eastern from their brief interaction. This negotiation would not move forward on the business front. Hyde was uninformed and unconcerned with the company.

  What he needed was to engage the daughter’s interest. She was his key to closing this deal. Luckily, one of the ladies descending the stairs was the daughter in question. Julia brightened when she spotted her father and Nate, crossing to them immediately.

  “Father, I see you’ve met Mr. Smythe.”

  “Yes, only just.”

  “Don’t you remember my telling you about him? I knew you’d have a great deal in common.” Nate felt a small flash of triumph. Julia had mentioned him to her father. An excellent sign.

  Hyde cleared his throat. “We’ve merely exchanged a few pleasantries, Julia. Look, I believe Lady Tewsbury is about to announce dinner.”

  “Half the guests haven’t even come down yet,” Julia protested, looking from Nate to her father. “Father...”

  Julia seemed to be gearing up for a full-fledged assault and Nate decided perhaps the strategic move would be to withdraw and let them hash it out in private, especially as it was about him. It wouldn’t do for Hyde to see him looking too invested at this early stage. Perhaps if the attachment was thought to originate on Julia’s side, her father might prove more amenable.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Hyde, Lady Julia. I’ve remembered something I need to mention to Lady Evelyn.”

  “Oh, but I will have a chance to speak with you after dinner, won’t I, Mr. Smythe?” Lady Julia turned her beseeching eyes to him.

  “Of course, Lady Julia. I look forward to it.”

  She smiled, mollified, and rounded on her besieged father again. Nate slipped away before he could hear any more. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or distressed by this turn of events. On one hand, Julia had obviously taken far greater note of him during their initial meeting than he’d thought. She seemed to have practically marked him out as her own already. Surprising, but helpful in forwarding his plans. On the other hand, Lord Hyde clearly did not like the idea. Granted, he was an undistinguished match for an earl’s daughter, despite his fortune. He could only do his utmost to win her affections, and hope her father was in the habit of indulging her wishes.

  * * *

  Yellow was perfect for Amelia’s coloring. Her new dress was the color of jonquils and it set off her black hair perfectly. And the cut did wondrous things for her figure.

  She turned side to side, examining herself in the cheval glass. Few people would believe it of her, but she had a weakness for fashion, the more expensive the better. Her taste tended to the extremes, which sometimes led her into trouble, but she couldn’t deny the shiver of pleasure she felt when she slipped into a beautiful new dress made especially for her. It didn’t help that her body naturally bordered on scandalous. She could wear the exact same dress as that shrew, Kitty Ponsoy, and on Kitty it would be demure and simple. On Amelia’s body, with her tiny waist and generous breasts, it would cause a riot. She should probably regret that more than she did.

  Tonight would be the first time she wore this newest delivery and she couldn’t wait to show it off. With its narrow, pointed waist, wide flounces of cream French lace at the shoulders, extravagantly puffed sleeves and the perfectly shaped sweep of skirt, it made her feel pretty and feminine, and she so rarely did.

  Fantine had spent an age working on her hair, arranging each riotous curl and nestling a small cluster of cream-colored roses behind her ear to finish her masterpiece. Even she muttered her compliments—in surly French—before she excused herself.

  Every bit of the raggedy street brawler Amelia had been banished tonight. Even Nate would have to admit it. What a shock he’d get when he saw her. Her frisson of pleasure evaporated as she remembered the reason for her exquisite dress and hair, and the reason wasn’t Nate. Radwill. Tonight she’d corner him and begin her campaign in earnest. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Not when she looked like this.

  She scowled at herself and pinched her cheeks one more time to raise her color. Then she tugged her bodice half an inch lower and tugged her breasts half an inch higher. No, she thought, grinning at her reflection in the mirror, it wouldn’t be hard at all. Radwill wouldn’t know what hit him.

  As she turned the corner in the hall to make her way downstairs, she saw Kitty Ponsoy coming toward her from the other direction. There was no way to avoid meeting her at the top of the stairs and descending together. Amelia plastered a wide, false smile on her face.

  “Hello, Miss Ponsoy. You look lovely tonight.” Actually, Kitty looked like chalk. Her ivory dress washed out both her pale skin and her mouse-colored hair. Kitty simpered and fussed with a sprig of violets pinned to her neckline.

  “Thank you. It took such a long time to dress, making sure everything was perfect. I wish I could be as brave as you and throw on any old thing without a care!”

  Kitty smiled smugly and began to sail past her, leaving her stinging insult hanging in the air. Amelia had let the first one slide off her back, but ignoring another was simply beyond her. There was no conscious thought or plan, only pure street-bred instinct. She reached out with the toe of her very elegant satin shoe and firmly pinned the trailing hem of Kitty’s dress to the floor as Kitty took her first step down the stairs. The skirt stretched taut. Kitty was hauled up short. There was a soft sshhrrr as the fine silk chiffon of her skirt shredded away.

  Kitty spun around to gape at the great tear across the back of her hem. “What have you done?”

  “Oh dear,” Amelia sighed. “How clumsy of me. And after you spent so long getting ready. I’ll make your excuses to our hosts.” She moved past Kitty and began down the stairs. She paused and glanced back at the other girl, who was still clutching at her dress, her face mottled with rage. “And perhaps you should choose something with a bit of color this time. That dress makes you look like a dead fish.”

  Kitty’s mouth fell open in shock. Amelia smiled wickedly.

  “Yes, Miss Ponsoy, I don’t insult according to Society rules. I’ll give it to you straight, right to your face. Don’t forget it and don’t tangle with me unless you mean to do it properly.”

  Amelia turned away with a snap and sailed down the stairs, leaving a blustering Kitty behind her. Before she was even halfway down the flush of victory had abated and all she felt was regret. Not for putting Kitty in her place. Kitty needed it. But for how she’d done it. Once again, she’d forgotten herself, acted on instinct and displayed some truly atrocious behavior. As nasty as Kitty had been, it was wrong to purposely wreck her dress. Maybe she was every bit as bad as everyone thought she was. Now she was going to have to apologize to the little wretch, which was galling.

  She’d sunk into complete dejection by the time she joined the other guests in the parlor. Even her new dress couldn’t lift her spirits. She’d left her room feeling pretty and excited and now it was tainted, both by Kitty’s scathing dismissal of it and her own inappropriate reaction.
r />   Evelyn and Tony Batchelder were right inside the door, talking to Nate. Tony, for all his raffish charm, positively paled in Nate’s shadow. Nate was resplendent in his evening suit, but everything else about him, his angular, lively face, his barely tamed gold hair, his tanned skin, his broad-shouldered body, looked as if it belonged anywhere but at a sedate English house party. He was a tiger in a room full of house cats. Evelyn seemed unmoved by his magnetism, chattering away about some piece of London gossip as Tony half listened, a disinterested smile on his lips. Nate looked as bored as Amelia always did in these circumstances.

  “Kitty asked me to send her regrets,” Amelia told Evelyn. “She had a terrible mishap and she’s torn her dress. She’s gone to change.”

  Evelyn frowned. “Oh, dear. Should I send her my lady’s maid to help?”

  “She’ll sort it out on her own, I’m sure.”

  Mollified, Evelyn turned back to Tony, picking up where she’d left off. “And then what do you think he did?”

  Tony smirked. “Oh, I’m sure you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you, Evie?”

  She twittered. “Tony, you’re a beast. But I’ll tell you anyway because the story is just too delicious.”

  She whispered her story in Tony’s ear as Nate leaned down to Amelia. “You look lovely, Amelia.”

  Out of nowhere, Amelia felt her throat close up and her eyes burned with something suspiciously like tears.

  “Good God, are you crying?”

  “Don’t be daft. Of course I’m not.”

  “Your red eyes say otherwise. Why would a compliment make you weep?”

  “I’m not crying, but if I am perhaps it’s from the shock of you saying something nice to me.”

  “Don’t get too used to it. I’m sure you’ll spur me to fits of rage soon enough. What really happened to Kitty?”

  “Something that will induce one of those fits, I’m sure.”

  Nate sighed. “Amelia...”