A Breath of Scandal
Read A Breath of Scandal Online
Authors: Connie Mason
RAVES ABOUT
NEW YORK TIMES
BESTSELLING AUTHOR CONNIE MASON!
HIGHLAND WARRIOR
“This is a one-night read that truly satisfies.”
A TASTE OF PARADISE
“This deep-sigh love story is ideal for whiling away an afternoon.”
A KNIGHT’S HONOR
“This is classic Mason. Her fans will put this on the top of their to-read lists.”
GYPSY LOVER
“Mason’s romances are always a feast for readers seeking a passionate, exciting story peopled with larger-than-life heroes who take your breath away.”
THE PIRATE PRINCE
“A legend of the genre, Mason delivers a tried-and-true romance with a classic plot and highly engaging characters.”
THE LAST ROGUE
“A delight…This is a must read for Mason fans.”
SEDUCED BY A ROGUE
“Another wonderful story filled with adventure, witty repartee and hot sex.”
THE ROGUE AND THE HELLION
“Ms. Mason has written another winner to delight her fans who want sexual tension that leads to hot explosion, memorable characters and a fast-paced story.”
THE LAIRD OF STONEHAVEN
“[Ms. Mason] crafts with excellence and creativity… [and] the added attraction of mystery and magic.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
PRAISE FOR CONNIE MASON!
LIONHEART
“…upholds the author’s reputation for creating memorable stories and remarkable characters.”
THE DRAGON LORD
“This is a real keeper, filled with historical fact, sizzling love scenes and wonderful characters.”
THE BLACK KNIGHT
“Ms. Mason has written a rich medieval romance filled with tournaments, chivalry, lust and love.”
THE OUTLAWS: SAM
“Ms. Mason always provides the reader with a hot romance, filled with plot twists and wonderful characters. She’s a marvelous storyteller.”
THE OUTLAWS: JESS
“
Jess
is filled with adventure and passion. Ms. Mason delivers.”
THE OUTLAWS: RAFE
“Ms. Mason begins this new trilogy with wonderful characters…steamy romance…excellent dialogue…[and an] exciting plot!”
GUNSLINGER
“Ms. Mason has created memorable characters and a plot that made this reader rush to turn the pages.…
Gunslinger
is an enduring story.”
PIRATE
“Ms, Mason has written interesting characters into a twisting plot filled with humor and pathos.”
BEYOND THE HORIZON
“Connie Mason at her best! She draws readers into this fast-paced, tender and emotional historical romance that proves love really does conquer all!”
“Feel how hard I am for you, Lara,” he said, grasping her wrist and placing her hand on the front of his trousers. “I’m fully capable now of giving you what you’ve been asking for since the first night you crawled into bed with me.”
She tried to pull away but he held her captive in his arms, refusing to release the hand still clasped around his staff.
“This is our wedding night,” he reminded her. Just thinking about what he was going to do to her made his mouth dry as dust.
“We’re not really married. You said so yourself.”
He searched her face. “Do you believe we’re married?”
“Gypsies follow their own laws. My people consider our marriage a valid commitment.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Julian growled. “Do you believe we’re married?”
Silence.
“Lara, answer my question.”
“Aye!” Lara whispered.
“Even though you know I must leave soon? That there can be nothing lasting between us?”
“Aye, dammit! You have your answer, now let me go.”
“No. I’m going to love you, my wanton Gypsy spitfire. If your passion for the dance extends to the bed, I have a long rewarding night to look forward to.”
C
ONNIE
M
ASON
A B
REATH
OF
S
CANDAL
© 2001, 2011 Connie Mason. All rights reserved
A B
REATH
OF
S
CANDAL
French Coast
1765
J
ulian jammed his woolen cap down low over his forehead, slipped from behind a stand of trees lining the desolate stretch of beach, and joined the ragtag group of peasants who were rolling barrels of prime brandy and carrying chests of French lace from the gaping mouth of a cave. Beneath a moonless sky, darkness and mist swallowed the beach and sea beyond as peasants and smugglers alike worked diligently to pile their contraband on the shore.
Julian had huddled out of sight in the chilly predawn, waiting for the ship anchored just beyond the breakers to send its jolly boats to pick up the contraband. Wearing a beard to disguise his identity, Julian had joined a group of peasants who had been promised top wages for a night’s work. More than they could earn in a year.
“There’s the signal for the boats,” a man standing beside Julian said in country French that Julian understood perfectly. “We’ll be paid well for this night’s work.” Julian merely grunted.
A man in a billowing cloak that swirled around his tall form suddenly appeared on the mist-shrouded beach. He lifted his arm and waved a glowing lantern back and forth. An answering light appeared from the ship’s bow. Julian knew it was the signal he’d been waiting for and tensed. When the first jolly boat arrived, the man in the cloak pulled his collar up high so that none would recognize his face. Intuition told Julian that this was the man called the Jackal, the smuggler Whitehall had been trying to run down for years. The man who had been responsible for the death of Julian’s fiancée.
The hackles rose on the back of Julian’s neck. He wanted this man so badly he broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. He wouldn’t rest until he saw the Jackal swinging at the end of a rope. And now that he was on the verge of identifying the Jackal, anticipation soared through him. Julian Thornton, Earl of Mansfield, had his suspicions, but no solid proof to take back to William Randall and Whitehall. Of one thing Julian was certain: The Jackal was someone of importance, for his information was always on target, as if he knew ahead of time when and where Randall’s agents would strike.
His body tense, his head tucked low, Julian rolled a barrel down the sandy beach to the waiting longboat. The moment he’d learned when the shipment was to be sent and where it was to land, he’d sent the information by a swift messenger to Randall. This time the smugglers were in for a surprise. Agents would be waiting for them to arrive on a deserted stretch of coast in Cornwall. Julian was sure of his information, for he’d gotten it directly from a sailor aboard the ship carrying the contraband. Money worked every time.
The shrouded figure in the billowing cloak kept careful watch of the contraband being loaded into the jolly boats. Julian passed beneath his intense scrutiny, head tucked down, eyes averted. As much as he wanted to identify the Jackal, he didn’t look up for fear of being recognized. But Julian knew he would have his day once the smugglers had been taken into custody.
After the boats were loaded, he dared a glance over his shoulder and saw the Jackal conversing with one of the smugglers.
The smuggler singled Julian out and motioned to him. “Ye there! Come here.”
Julian pretended not to hear as he waited on the beach with the peasants to be paid for his night’s work.
“Ye there! Step forward!”
Julian froze. He sensed danger and tried to diffuse it by pretending to be one of the villagers.
“Me, monsieur?” Julian asked in the broad, country dialect he’d heard spoken in the village.
“Aye, ye,” the smuggler said in rough, barely understandable French. “Do ye speak English?”
“Ah, non, monsieur. I am but a poor farmer who needs the coin to feed my family. I speak only country dialect.”
“Stupid Frog,” the smuggler muttered in English. “Get aboard the jolly boat.”
Julian began to sweat beneath his thick sweater and knitted scarf. “I must return to my home,” he replied. “My wife awaits me.”
“The Jackal wants ye taken aboard,” the smuggler said.
“The Jackal?”
The smuggler pointed to the cloaked figure striding away from them. “Aye, the Jackal. ’Tis what we call him.”
“What does he want with me?” Julian asked, beginning to feel like a trapped rabbit. Had the Jackal recognized him?
The smuggler grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotted teeth. “He thinks ye be a government agent.” He shuddered. “Ye better pray ye ain’t.”
“You are mistaken, monsieur, I am no spy,” Julian said obsequiously. “Can I go home to my wife now?”
“Get in the boat,” the sailor ordered, pushing a pistol into Julian’s back.
“Why doesn’t the Jackal confront me himself if he thinks I am a spy?” Julian challenged.
“No one questions the Jackal,” the sailor said. “No one sees his face except a privileged few, and you ain’t one of them. He’ll send one of his men to question ye.”
Julian felt the cold fingers of death brush his face. He’d been so careful to cover his tracks. So meticulous about his secret identity. Not even his brother, Sinjun, knew the precise nature of his work, or the name by which he was known.
They called him Scorpion. His identity was known only to William Randall. His work for Whitehall had taken him to the continent, to Italy, and to various destinations throughout the British Isles, wherever he was needed.
He was sure this time he would succeed. He’d come so close. Where had he gone wrong? Who had penetrated his careful web of secrecy? Who wanted him dead?
Julian cursed his bad luck when the smuggler searched him and found his pistol.
“I’ll take that,” the smuggler said, stuffing the weapon inside his belt. Then he prodded Julian toward the boat. Julian knew that once he was in the boat he was as good as dead. He had to act now. Before he reached the boat, Julian broke and ran for cover.
It was not to be. A shot pierced through the night, finding a target in Julian’s shoulder. Julian spun around and hit the wet sand. He fought to master the pain and continue his flight, but two brawny smugglers were upon him almost instantly. They dragged him down the beach and tossed him into the boat.
Immediately the boat was pushed out into the water. Julian heard the slap of oars, felt the boat rock. The buzzing in his head intensified, muffling the world around him. Then he knew no more.
Julian awoke to the creak and groan of wooden beams, the soft slap of water against the hull, and the clink of metal rings on yardarms. He heard canvas whipping in the wind and felt the deck heaving. He tried to rise but grinding pain in his shoulder curtailed his valiant efforts. A groan slipped past his lips.