A Dash of Scandal

Chapter Nine

“Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.” One has to wonder if Lord Dunraven has so short a memory. Wasn’t it only last year that Lord Lambsbeth challenged him to a duel in White’s? But this one has just discovered there will be no challenge this Season, for Lady Lambsbeth is a widow.

—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column

Millicent breathed in deeply as she enjoyed a leisurely drive in the open carriage to the business area located near her aunt’s town house. She was properly accompanied by her aunt’s housekeeper rather than her own maid, because Mrs. Brown needed to pick up some things for Lady Beatrice.

The housekeeper was as quiet on the street as she was in the house. Millicent had made several attempts at conversation by commenting on how beautiful the day was and how lovely the flowers were in the various parks, but Mrs. Brown had responded with only a brief “Yes, miss,” to absolutely everything Millicent had said.

Giving up on conversing and content simply to enjoy the drive, Millicent fell silent, too. This was her first venture out into the streets of London since she’d arrived in Town and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.

The sky was a vivid blue and the temperature pleasant as they drove past the rows of town homes and the green areas of the squares. Millicent was comfortably attired in a carriage dress of lightweight muslin with a matching three-button pelisse in faille. Her straw bonnet was trimmed with tiny flowers at the crown and banded with stiff muslin the same cinnamon brown as her kid gloves. Her half boots would make any strolling easy.

Millicent found the traffic in the streets shockingly busy for midafternoon. She had never seen so many gigs, phaetons, drays, and other types of conveyances in her life. Some of the carriages were quite ornate with elaborate trim and gold crests on the doors. Those were pulled by two or four well-matched horses that were driven by coachmen in handsome livery. As they continued down Oxford Street toward the City, the congestion was further complicated by the addition of street sweepers, the throng of pedestrians going about their daily business, and the rough barrows of the numerous street vendors.

Millicent noticed they passed several shops that sold fabrics, lace, and sewing notions, but obviously none of them were their intended target.

The housekeeper was taking Millicent to Aunt Beatrice’s favorite place. Her aunt had told her the quaint shop would be the perfect place for Millicent to buy her mother a length of lace, a bit of ribbon, embroidery thread, or any number of other things that could easily be sent to her by mail coach.

Millicent had not had much time to think about her mother since arriving in London. She had posted only one short letter to her. Millicent hoped to make up for her lack of attention by purchasing her mother a small gift.

The moment they walked in the shop Millicent saw that Mrs. Brown and the shopkeeper knew each other well. When asked about her employer, Mrs. Brown discreetly told the clerk that her employer’s recuperation was progressing as expected, and then she introduced Millicent.

Millicent smiled at the clerk and insisted she needed no help in picking out her purchases. She left the two at the front of the shop and went immediately to the table that held lace and carefully looked over the intricate patterns. From there she walked over to the ribbons, which came in so many different colors and widths Millicent didn’t know how she would ever be able to make up her mind.

She heard the door open and close two or three times while she looked over the beautiful fabrics in the shop but paid it no mind. The shopkeeper offered again to help her, but Millicent assured her she would rather take her time and look over everything before making a decision.

The clerk and Mrs. Brown continued to talk as if they were long lost friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. Millicent would have sworn that Mrs. Brown wasn’t capable of saying so much to anyone, but Millicent had just been proven wrong.

Wanting to give Mrs. Brown time to finish her conversation, Millicent slowly made her way to the rear of the store where the fine fabrics were located. She was pressing her palm over a length of blue velvet when suddenly a hand pressed her back, gently ushering her forward. Her head snapped around and she saw Lord Dunraven at her side. She gasped, but allowed him to maneuver her to the end of the aisle, where large bolts of dark velvets were stacked high.

“Stand here and look at these fabrics,” he said as he quickly stacked several bolts of cloth on top of each other. Within moments he had two piles of cloth tall enough for him to stand behind without being seen by anyone in the front of the store.

When he was finished he turned to her and said, “There. That should hide me from your chaperone.”

“What in heaven’s name are you doing in a fabric shop?”

“Looking for you, of course.”

Millicent took a deep breath and said, “I believe you are developing a bad habit of startling me, sir.”

“That is because you are so easy to startle, Miss Blair, but why does it have to be a bad habit? Why can’t you say I have a good habit of startling you?”

He reached over and added another bolt to the stack closest to Millicent and took a step closer to her.

“Can a startle be good?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“I’ll show you sometime, but in order for it to work you can’t have a guilty conscience.”

She lifted her shoulders and her chin. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked and looked over her left shoulder. Mrs. Brown and the shop attendant were still engrossed in their conversation. “A guilty conscience about what?”

“You tell me.”

“You are talking in riddles, sir.”

“Perhaps I am, but you are a mystery to me, Miss Blair, and of course that intrigues me.”

“I have no intentions of being a mystery to you, Lord Dunraven,” she said, wondering if her hat was on straight, because his eyes seemed to be studying her so intently.

“Then why don’t you answer any of my questions directly? It makes me wonder if you have skeletons in your closet.”

His words alerted her. “Skeletons? You have a vivid imagination, sir.”

A devilish grin spread across his face and she realized he was only teasing her, but Millicent had suddenly felt as if she had been caught writing her gossip.

There was no way he could know what she was doing unless—unless he had her real dance card! Could that be? No. She was reacting far too seriously about his offhanded remark because she did have a guilty conscience. How could he know anything about her or what she was doing for her aunt?

She wouldn’t say any more about the subject. Surely if he had seen her dance card, he would have to come right out and accuse her, and somehow she felt him unwilling to do that.

Millicent had learned years ago that when she didn’t know how to answer a question, or didn’t like the direction a conversation was going, it was best to change the subject. That seemed a judicious thing to do right now.

“There is no way this can be a chance meeting, Lord Dunraven.”

“Indeed, it is not.”

“Rake that you are, you followed me, didn’t you?” she asked, a bit miffed, a bit flattered, and a bit excited.

“Yes.”

“You really are a rogue of the first order.”

“Guilty.” He paused, then added, “Though only sometimes.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

“I have been known to behave properly when it matters most, Miss Blair.”

He smiled and suddenly Millicent felt as if sunlight shone on her face. How could his smile brighten her day and fill her with such pleasant feelings? Suddenly she felt wonderful. She wanted to throw her arms up in the air and twirl around as if she were five years old again.

Standing before her was an admitted rogue who knew how to charm any lady, not just her. Yet, the very sight of him made her heart beat a little faster.

Millicent tried to sound firm while keeping her voice low. She said, “Following me is unacceptable. And standing here talking to me in this shop is even worse. Have you no care for my reputation?”

“Your reputation is safe with me. You left me no choice when you refused again to let me call on you like a proper gentleman. I had to design a plan to see you. I decided to watch Lady Beatrice’s house until you came into the garden again. But when I saw you leave the house, I decided to follow you.”

“You were watching the house again? That was foolish. I could have stayed inside all day.”

“Foolish, yes, but I do have good luck.”

“Good luck, indeed. Clearly you are an expert at maneuvering yourself so that you can have a private assignation with young ladies whenever and wherever you wish.”

He gave her that warm engaging smile as he folded his arms across his chest in a very relaxed position and leaned a narrow hip against the table. “That’s true, but it is also true I have not stooped to such antics lately. I’ve not had to, and I did it years ago for the fun and the sport of it. Now I’m doing it because you are the first young lady who has refused to allow me to call on her in a proper and gentlemanly manner.”

For some reason that truthful admission gave her confidence and freedom to give him a genuine smile. “That should have been a hint that I didn’t want to see you.”

“A hint? I took it as a challenge. I thought perhaps it meant you didn’t want anyone to see us together, giving my dastardly notoriety and your unblemished reputation.”

At that remark, Millicent laughed softly, quietly but without restraint. He was so engaging, he was wrapping her up like a gift to present to himself.

“Shhh.” He put his hand to his lips. “I don’t think anyone knows I’m in here.”

Mrs. Brown and the clerk continued to huddle together but had walked farther away from Millicent to look at jars of creams, oils, or something behind the front counter.

Millicent cleared her throat and fingered the fabric again. “Nonsense,” she said, but asked, “How did you get in without them seeing you?”

“I went to the back alley and slipped in from the rear door.” He looked around the bolts of cloth. “I don’t think there is anyone else in here right now but you and I, your chaperone and the clerk.”

“Thank goodness. You could have been caught.”

“Yes.”

A shiver of excitement tingled through her. “And that means I would have been caught talking to you.”

“Yes.”

“Does that not worry you?”

He moved a little closer to her and lowered his voice even more as he said, “For you, yes. For me, some things are worth the risk, Miss Blair.”

Millicent picked up an edge of fabric and pretended to study it, when all she wanted to do was look into Lord Dunraven’s seductive blue eyes and tell him she was charmed and flattered that he went to so much trouble just to see her for the second time in two days.

Truly, he must have known how difficult he was for her to resist. His smile, his manner, and even his bad reputation perplexed her, worried her… and captivated her. But she could never let him know that seeing him today was worth the risk of being caught talking to him in private.

She took a deep, languid breath. But what was she going to do? His pursuing her would make her more visible and jeopardize her work for her aunt. Keeping that secret had to be uppermost in her mind. If Millicent were caught, her aunt might somehow be revealed as Lord Truefitt, and she couldn’t risk ruining her aunt’s place in Society.

Perhaps she should confess to Aunt Beatrice or Viscountess Heathecoute and ask how she should handle this handsome gentleman rogue, for surely he was way too fast for her country upbringing.

With a fluid grace, Lord Dunraven reached over and took her gloved hand in his and gently pulled her to his chest, concealing her with him behind the bolts of fabric. Millicent gasped softly but didn’t pull away from him. How could she when she wanted to feel his arms around her again?

“Did that startle you?”

She looked up into his eyes, so close to hers she felt his breath when he spoke. “Yes.”

A wicked half grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “Was it a good startle?”

“Yes.”

Most definitely.

Oh, he was a cunning devil. How could she have lied to him and told him that it wasn’t? For surely it felt wonderful having his strong arms surround her and to be snuggled so close and so tightly in his arms.

Lord Dunraven’s grin turned to a pleasing smile. Millicent wasn’t afraid to be in his arms. She felt no danger. He was strong and her will was weak. She merely felt that she was where she wanted to be.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” he asked.

Surprised, she said, “You didn’t ask yesterday.”

“Yesterday it would not have been difficult for me to escape had you screamed. Today would be a bit more of a problem.”

Millicent smiled. “So I could get rid of you merely by screaming?”

“Or just a loud cough would draw attention to you, Miss Blair. So what will it be?”

“A kiss,” she said without hesitating, knowing if she did, her sensible mind would win and she didn’t want it to.

Bending his head, he lightly brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was so gentle and brief if she tried hard she could believe it had never happened, yet her heart rate soared and a quickening tightened her abdomen.

She gazed into his eyes, fearing he would kiss her again and fearing he wouldn’t. Oh, what sweet torment!

She moistened her lips and said, “I’m glad to know that a rake can ask permission for a kiss.”

“I told you that I know how to behave as a gentleman—at times. I had a feeling you wouldn’t scream if I pulled you into my arms and kissed you, but I didn’t want to frighten you.”

“You don’t scare me, sir.”

“I know. So, may I kiss you again?”

“Please do.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his chest. He lowered his head again and instinctively her lips parted, her mouth opened, allowing his tongue to slip inside and plunder her warmth. The kiss was long, generous, drugging. Short choppy breaths merged with long whispery sighs. Millicent had no idea which sound emerged from Lord Dunraven and which came from her own mouth.

When he broke the kiss, he remained holding her tightly. He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this since the first night I saw you in the corridor. Remember that night?”

“You blew me a kiss.”

“More proof I can be a gentleman at times.”

Without letting her go, he turned them around and carefully backed her up until she pressed against the fabric table.

“What are you going to do?”

“Kiss you madly.”

Millicent caught her bottom lip between her teeth and formed a protest that never came out.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he whispered softly. “I can see your maid through the stacks of cloth. I will keep watch. I won’t let her or anyone else catch us. If she heads this way, I’ll duck under the table.”

Millicent nodded as he bent his head toward hers again. She knew what she was allowing him to do was beyond the pale, but where he was concerned she discarded caution and reason. There was something decidedly rebellious, thrilling, and a little bit wicked about kissing him in the shop. She had no inclination to stop as she had no inhibitions when she was in his arms.

Her lips parted as his met hers once more. Millicent knew from the first touch that this would be no gentle, tender kiss, and her breathing quickened erratically with desire.

Lord Dunraven’s lips bruised hungrily over hers and she matched his furor. His arms wrapped tightly around her back, crushed her to him.

Instinctively she opened her mouth again and accepted his tongue and gave him hers. It pleased her when she heard him swallow soft gasps of pleasure with each probe of her tongue into his mouth.

“You taste so sweet,” he whispered against her lips.

“And you are a masterful kisser, sir,” she answered breathlessly.

His lips left hers and he kissed her cheek, her chin and her neck. “Do you like the way I make you feel?”

“Yes. I’ve never felt such intense pleasure with other kisses.”

“So you have been kissed before?”

“Of course. I’m almost one and twenty.”

“But you haven’t been thoroughly kissed, the way I kissed you just now?”

“That’s correct. All the kisses I’ve had up to now have been properly given on the cheek by gentlemen.”

“Proper gentlemen? And I am not?”

“You, sir, are not a good matrimonial candidate, and I should not have allowed you so much freedom.”

“But you did.”

“Your charm is very persuasive.”

“You have led me on a merry chase.”

“Not by design.”

“I think I like the fact that you have been brave enough to allow a kiss or two and discreet enough not to let any man take advantage of you.”

There was sudden laughter from the front of the shop and Millicent stiffened in his arms.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, looking past her through the small opening between the stacks of cloth. “Your maid is quite busy at the moment.”

Breathing hard, and needing to see for herself, Millicent leaned her head back and saw the two women opening jars and smelling the contents.

Millicent took a deep, relaxing breath.

“Keep your head back a moment,” he whispered. “That’s the perfect position for kissing your beautiful neck.”

“Necks are not beautiful, sir. They are skinny and bony.”

“Yours is lovely and it’s sensitive, too. That’s why I love to kiss it.” He showered her with more kisses.

“Yes,” she whispered giving herself over to the pleasure.

Throwing caution to the wind, and her reputation out the window, Millicent did as he asked and allowed the earl the freedom he desired to explore her neck.

Softly he kissed the area behind her ear, and her skin pebbled with delicious goose bumps even though she had never felt hotter in her life. He kissed the lobe of her ear and gently, quickly sucked it into his mouth and out again a couple of times before leaving it to explore his way down the column of her neck to where the hollow of her throat met the stiff lace of her collar.

Shivers of delight threaded tighter and tighter through Millicent, wrapping her in the web he had set for her. She was amazed at how much enjoyment she received from his touch.

“I’ve never been kissed like this before,” she murmured softly.

“Good.” He kissed her lips, her chin, then the base of her throat again. “You shouldn’t let anyone kiss you like this—but me, of course.”

His lips found hers again and he kissed her passionately. He ran his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and down her arms. His hands never stopped moving as their mouths clung together.

Millicent couldn’t let her hands be still either. She ran her open palms over the width of his strong shoulders and her fingers up into the back of his hair. She loved the way his lips moved expertly across hers. She loved the taste of his tongue in her mouth. She was eager to enjoy everything she was experiencing, including the touch of the expensive fabric of his coat beneath her hand.

“I like that you enjoy how I kiss you,” he murmured softly.

“That pleases you?”

“Very much.”

“Me too.” Some kisses were soft and warm while others were fierce and passionate. Millicent had thought she had been kissed before, but she hadn’t. This was kissing! Weak legs included. If she hadn’t been propped against the table, she would have melted to her knees.

Lord Dunraven lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. With one hand splayed against her back he pressed her to him. With his other hand he reached up and touched her ear, softly caressing the small lobe. Slowly his fingertips took the same path down her neck that his lips had followed earlier, only this time the journey didn’t stop at the lace collar. His hand continued down her chest until his open palm rested on the full swell of her breast.

Millicent was hardly breathing. She felt as though her insides were twisting into a wondrous knot of exciting sensations. No one had ever touched her breasts before, and it was thrilling. His hand slid beneath her breast and lifted it into his palm and he closed his fingers around it, squeezing gently yet firmly. The sensations that shot through her were wondrous.

Her lower body strained to get closer to him, and he answered her invitation by pressing harder against her. Millicent gasped again as she felt the hardness of his body.

For the first time in her life she knew what it was like to want a man to love her. The desirous sensations caused her to press her lips to his and slide her tongue deep into his mouth. He muffled his groan.

“I knew it,” he whispered passionately against her lips. “Your breast fits perfectly into my hand.”

It feels perfect.

He looked into her eyes. “If only I could remove your dress and look upon your beauty with the desire I feel for you at this moment. I would show you how a man loves a woman.”

As if considering the possibility, he glanced toward the front of the shop, where muffled talking could still be heard. He lowered his head to her chest for a moment, then lifted it again.

“But now is not the time and this is not the place. I want to kiss you again. I have good luck, but I’m not going to push it further today.”

Slowly he let her go and stepped away. Millicent felt bereft and out of breath. He helped her to straighten her collar, then ran his thumb across her lips and smiled.

“You look like you have been thoroughly kissed.”

Millicent touched her lips with her fingertips. “What should I do?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He reached up and lowered her hand from her mouth. “The redness will disappear quickly.”

She shook her head in worry. “I can’t believe I let you kiss me and… and… touch me so intimately here in this public place. I’m afraid I’ve shocked myself.”

As soon as the words were out, she would have done anything to take them back. He probably wanted to hear that she was upset with herself for submitting to his wishes so easily. Her heart was beating so fast and she was so light-headed with desire that nothing more sane would pass her lips.

He smiled. “Don’t worry about your reputation. You are safe with me.”

“After what just passed between us, that is an absurd remark, sir. I’m safe anywhere but in your presence where I seem to turn into a wanton—”

He cut off her words by placing his thumb lightly against her lips. “We shared some passionate kisses. That is all. No one but us will ever know.”

Of course he would say that. He would not want to be caught in such a compromising and unforgiving situation and be forced to marry her. He was a confirmed bachelor. No, it was best they forget this ever happened, and she must stay away from him at all cost.

“I understand.” She pulled on the neckline of her dress and moistened her lips. They tasted of Lord Dunraven, and her chest tightened, as she missed his embrace already. Oh, what had she done? What had she allowed him to do, to kiss her so intimately and to touch her in such forbidden places?

“What parties are you attending this evening?”

“We’ll be going to the Dovershafts and then to Almack’s. Why?”

He stepped away from her and said, “Because knowing where you will be means I don’t waste time looking for you this evening. Go back to the other side of the counter before your maid misses you.”

Just like that he was ready to be rid of her. How could she have gone so easily into his arms and allowed him to do whatever he wished?

“Clearly, Lord Dunraven, I had not met a rake until I met you. I should have nothing more to do with you.”

His gaze stayed on hers. “Perhaps you shouldn’t, but the question is, will you?”

Millicent closed her eyes and counted to three.

Angels above! She should be worried about much more than having been so thoroughly kissed. How had she fallen under his enchanting spell so quickly and completely?

She was what she never thought she would be—just like her mother. She was going to fall in love with the town scoundrel and be forced to leave London in shame as her mother had done years ago.

She would tell him he must not try to speak to her again. Yes, that is what she would do.

Feeling resolute, she opened her eyes to tell him, but he was gone.