Wickeds Scandal by Kathleen Ayers

2

Alexandra stood very still behind the curtain. Lord Cambourne? Satan Reynolds?

She heard the click of the library door as it shut.

“Hello, darling! What a boring party! Lady Halston nearly put me to sleep with her gossip. She finds you quite depraved, by the way.”

“Lady Halston should be more concerned about Lord Halston’s wickedness than mine.” The deep baritone vibrated down Alexandra’s spine. An image of Lord Cambourne as he appeared in the ballroom leapt in front of her. His voice sounded as beautiful as he was.

The woman laughed lightly. “I adore your depravity. Besides, it certainly hasn’t stopped every mama in London from pushing their simpering daughters at you.”

“Mmmm. I’m not interested in virgins, simpering or not. I find them tiresome.”

“Your grandmother does not. I’m told she interviews young girls by the dozen. Her specifications are quite exacting. She wants you married with an heir.”

Alexandra peered through a small crack in the curtain and snuck a look at the couple. Lord Cambourne had his back to her. Her eyes traveled down to the spill of inky black hair over his shoulders. She looked lower. His trousers were indecently tight. She looked away. Ladies did not notice such things.

Lady Fellowes moved to stand in front of Lord Cambourne, pushing her breasts forward suggestively.

Lord Cambourne lifted a hand. His fingers drummed against the redhead’s bodice. “Caro. You should go back to the ballroom instead of tempting me.” The dark head pressed a kiss against the white flesh mounded over Lady Fellowes’s bodice.

“Do I tempt you, Cam?” Lady Fellowes purred.

Alexandra nearly had a fit. She quivered in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment as she shrank back into the curtains. Could she sneak out while Lord Cambourne occupied himself with Lady Fellowes? What if they saw her as she tiptoed to the door? She could just imagine waving nonchalantly to Lord Cambourne, telling him to ‘carry on’ as she waltzed out.

A muted sigh of satisfaction reached Alexandra’s ears. Lady Fellowes clearly relished whatever Lord Cambourne was doing to her. Alexandra tried to summon up disgust and revulsion, but instead her own traitorous breasts began to ache in response to the sounds she heard. She forced herself to stay still even as every nerve in her body tingled. Think of something else, Alexandra! Like cleaning out the stables!

The thump of a body landing on the couch, accompanied by a rustle of clothing piqued her curiosity. I shall only peek. She popped one eye around the edge of damask. Good Lord! Lady Fellowes had wrapped her legs around Satan Reynolds’s torso and she was attempting to wrestle him to the couch. Lady Fellowes’s bright green garters were in shocking contrast to her pale thighs and stark black gown. She tried to pull Lord Cambourne’s hand inside her skirts.

“Come be naughty with me.” Lady Fellowes pouted her red lips and swiveled her hips.

Lord Cambourne smiled indulgently. Long elegant fingers ran down Lady Fellowes’s legs in appreciation. “I don’t think this is an especially good time for this, Caro.”

Lady Fellowes hugged him with her legs. She took one of Lord Cambourne’s hands and placed it on her breast. The redhead sighed dramatically.

Alexandra stood frozen.

“Cam, Cam, I want you so badly.”

The broad shoulders shifted as Lord Cambourne shrugged his dark hair back. A piece of green glinted amidst the inky strands, dangling and beckoning to Alexandra.

He has an earring? Pirates and all sorts of other disreputable characters wore earrings. Something dark swirled down Alexandra’s stomach and between her thighs when she watched Lord Cambourne. As he had in the ballroom, he sufficiently squashed all thoughts of her dire circumstances with his presence. Alexandra sniffed the air. The library smelled of cinnamon.

Lady Fellowes thrust herself against Lord Cambourne and tried to pull him closer. The gloved hands ran through the long locks of his hair.

Alexandra stood transfixed, knowing she should look away, close her eyes, and possibly put her hands over her ears. She clasped one hand to her stomach. A flutter danced its way back and forth, twirling across her body. She wondered if the champagne she drank earlier caused her discomfort. Her drawers felt damp. One gloved hand wandered down to lay between her legs. Shocked at herself, Alexandra snatched her hand away.

Lord Cambourne kissed Lady Fellowes, pushing her down into the sofa cushions. The redhead, pinned in place against the couch, moved suggestively under Lord Cambourne as he kissed her. Alexandra saw the flick of his tongue against the woman’s lips before he broke away from her.

Lady Fellowes narrowed her eyes as she regarded the man in front of her.

“Oh, my.”

Oh my indeed!Alexandra panted a bit. She told herself it was only the thickness of the curtain and the dust in the air. Aunt Eloise said kissing was disgusting, particularly if one kissed in the ‘French’ way. Alexandra looked at Lady Fellowes. The woman did not appear disgusted. Her face bore a silly, blissful expression. Alexandra thought perhaps her aunt’s opinion of relations between a man and a woman had been colored by marriage to Odious Oliver.

Lord Cambourne gently disengaged Lady Fellowes’s legs and took a step back from the couch. He watched the redhead with amusement. “Caro, go back to the ballroom. Even though this has been a vastly amusing discussion.”

Lady Fellowes giggled. Her gloved fingers wiggled at him, curling and begging him to come closer. “Have you lost your sense of adventure, Lord Cambourne?” She plucked at his trousers.

“No, but I have better sense than to tumble you in my host’s library during a ball. Besides, didn’t you ask Danvers to escort you tonight?”

Lady Fellowes frowned a bit. She put her hand between Lord Cambourne’s legs as if she were massaging something.

Oh, Good Lord! Intrigued, Alexandra continued to watch. Lady Fellowes was touching his… She covered her mouth as a small squeak emerged. She knew exactly what Lady Fellowes was touching.

Lord Cambourne pushed the grasping hand away from his pants and chuckled softly. “Go back to the ball, Caro, before you are missed.”

Lord Cambourne stepped away from Lady Fellowes’s grasping fingers and faced the curtain. His beautiful features looked thoughtful and a bit melancholy.

Alexandra’s heart gave a small, odd lurch. Something about his countenance made her want to comfort him. Ridiculous as that sounded.

“Darling?”

Lord Cambourne walked over to the fireplace and poured himself a glass of Lord Dobson’s brandy. “You should not have followed me, Caro. An association with me would likely end any future match with Danvers.”

Lady Fellowes smiled. “I don’t give a fig for what Danvers thinks. He’s only a baron. You are a Marquess. A gorgeous, lovely Marquess.”

“Why how very mercenary of you, Caro. And you hardly out of mourning for your dear husband. No doubt you would mourn me just as fiercely. You do make a lovely widow. Black becomes you. I suppose you were hoping someone would see us?”

The sarcasm of his words sliced across the room into the empty air, hanging above Lady Fellowes like swords.

The redhead frowned. She flounced about the couch pretending to straighten her clothing with an aggrieved air. A calculating look came over her lovely face.

“Lord Danvers is quite taken with me.”

“I’m sure he is. Don’t let me keep you.” Lord Cambourne waved his hand at the door.

Lady Fellowes did not care for his reply. The redhead postured, thrust out her chest, and gave him a petulant look.

Lord Cambourne ignored her.

She flipped her head and allowed a bright red curl to dangle down her shoulder in a fetching manner. “Fine. But should you come looking for me later, you shall have to fight Danvers for my attention.”

“I stand duly informed, Lady Fellowes.” Lord Cambourne downed the brandy.

Lady Fellowes glared fiercely and waited for Lord Cambourne to say more. At his silence, she stood in a huff and flounced to the door in a swirl of black silks. The library walls shook as she slammed the door.

Lord Cambourne shrugged and moved closer to the fireplace. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he reached into his pocket to produce a cheroot. A brief flare of light lit the beautiful planes of his face. He touched the flame to the end of the cheroot with a sensuous flick of his wrist and took several deep drags.

Alexandra scratched her nose, careful not to disturb the curtain. The dust really was deplorable. She watched Lord Cambourne with her left eye. His hair glimmered like a bolt of black silk, the strands curling just a bit on the ends. The man should consult another tailor, possibly one who knew how to fit a gentleman. She could see the muscles of his thighs outlined by his breeches.

The smell of tobacco reached her nostrils making them twitch. Terrified of sneezing, she scratched her nose and prayed he would leave. Lord Cambourne blew smoke rings into the air as if he had all the time in the world. How long had she been gone? Her uncle would bring the house down around her ears if he discovered her missing. Damnation! Why doesn’t the blasted man adjourn to the conservatory? I’m sure there’s a tasty countess or two waiting for him there.

The dark head swiveled in her direction as if hearing her thoughts.

Alexandra’s heart hammered in her chest. Carefully, she stepped deeper into the folds of the heavy gold damask. Her nose twitched again. Damn dusty curtains! She heard him approach her hiding place, the steps leisurely, as if he were merely taking a stroll in the park. The smell of the cheroot mingled with the cinnamon hanging in the air. Her hands began to sweat inside her gloves. Dust tickled the back of her throat.

The footsteps stopped. What was he doing? She took a shallow breath, beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic behind the curtain. Could one suffocate in a curtain? She closed her eyes. A dust mote danced on her nose. If she gave a fig for Lady Dobson, she would tell her the deplorable state of her maid’s housekeeping.

Suddenly a hand shot through the heavy fabric, reaching towards Alexandra and startling her so that the edge of her slipper caught on the bottom of the curtain. She tripped and grabbed at the material, inadvertently twisting it around herself as she tried to flee. The curtain pulled free from the rod as she tipped forward. Swaddled in the folds of the heavy curtains, she landed at Lord Cambourne’s feet like a tiny gold damask-wrapped mummy.

Lord Cambourne cursed and dropped his cheroot.

Which is how the curtain caught on fire.