Gambling on a Scoundrel (41 page)

A deep wave of lust washed through him, but then he froze. This wasn't what he'd planned to have happen.

He reached his hands behind his neck and took hold of Tempy's, pulling them free. "Wait," he said.

She opened her eyes blearily, and then they widened in surprise. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She suddenly looked nervous. As though she was worried that he might be rejecting her.

"Wait. I need a moment. There's something I want to do first."

He hurried back to his desk and pulled open a drawer. He pushed the letter from Bliss Railways to one side and pulled out the blue velvet case and released its spring catch. He glanced down at the sparkling jewelry within and selected a piece, sliding it onto the tip of his finger and then closing his hand into a fist.

He crossed back over to Tempy. "I know it's customary to speak to a father or brother, but that won't work for us. We're different. And I think that makes us well suited for one another." He cleared his throat. "Temperance Bliss, will you do me the honor of agreeing to become my wife?"

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Say it," she demanded.

He was confused for a moment, but then he understood. "I love you, Tempy. Please marry me."

Her smile broadened and she nodded. Then her lower lip began to tremble and tears began sliding down her cheeks. "Oh Lucien," she said. "I was afraid you might not want me."

He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. "I've always wanted you, Tempy. Even when I didn't know it."

He raised his other hand and glanced down, pulling the small ring from the tip of his finger.

He looked into her eyes. "I don't know if this will fit, but we can have it adjusted. I want you to have it as my betrothal gift." He lifted her left hand and slid it onto her ring finger. He had to push just a little to slide it over her knuckle, but it fit perfectly, just as he'd hoped it would.

He watched as she lifted her hand to the collar of her dress. She stared into his eyes as she undid the top button of her blouse, but he couldn't bring himself to lift his gaze from her fingers as they pressed the circle of ivory through the top buttonhole.

As her dress parted, he caught a glitter of fire beneath it.

40 - Bliss

Lucien's hands rested on her shoulders. Their bodies were almost brushing against each other, and she could swear she could feel the heat radiating from his body even though they were inches apart. Lucien overwhelmed her senses, making it difficult to breathe, and even more difficult to think clearly.

One of his hands drifted from her shoulder and he ran an index finger across the diamond-encrusted oval links. Tempy could only close her eyes and try not to tremble at his touch.

But then her eyes flew open. She needed to see him.

As soon as their gazes met, Tempy let out a soft sigh that was a mixture of relief and desire. Lucien's hand slid up, cupping the back of her head and sliding into her hair. Then he lowered his mouth to hers, claiming it again.

Lucien's other arm slid around her waist, pulling her tightly against his body. "When you left the casino, I was afraid you might not come back to me, and it nearly killed me."

"This is where I belong." She leaned into his arms and slid her hands under his frock coat, sliding them across the satin of his green waistcoat until she'd encircled his waist. "I know that now."

"As long as we're together. That's all I want. All I need."

Lucien took a couple of shuffling steps forward and she followed along with him by moving backwards. He pressed her body against the closed door and began kissing her again. His lips pressed into hers, and when she opened her mouth to welcome him, his tongue darted against hers. Tendrils of fire began to wend their way through her, but then focused on the V between her legs.

"I want you in my bed, but not like this," he murmured into her ear. "We need to get married right away."

Right away?
Tempy knew she should probably speak, but she didn't think her mouth could form words right now. She could barely even comprehend what Lucien was saying. What was this word, married? And how did it apply to her?

"Tempy?" he said. He leaned one elbow on the wall next to her head and looked into her eyes. She focused her gaze on his face, and then noticed the self-satisfied smile on it.

That brought her around.

She pushed away from the wall and stepped around him before facing him again.

"When?"

"As soon as possible." He moved past her to cross to the far side of his desk, and Tempy couldn't help but watch him as he moved.

She sighed.

"I heard that," he said over his shoulder.

She smiled. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am."

Standing on the far side of the desk, he grinned at her and then began flipping through his calendar. "We have three choices. We can wait three weeks for the banns to be read, or we can try for a special license, or we can take a trip up to Gretna Green."

Tempy licked her lips. "I've never been to Scotland. And just imagine the stories we can tell."

A broad grin spread over Lucien's face. "Scotland it is."

"I wonder if Earl E. Byrd will write an article informing the world of our plans even before we manage to leave Bath," she mused. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she really didn't care. She shot Lucien a devilish grin. "Perhaps we'll scandalize all of London."

Lucien moved back to his desk. "I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said, pulling an envelope from his desk. "But I'm afraid you won't be mentioned in the newspapers quite so often anymore."

She shot Lucien a questioning gaze as she accepted the letter and was even more surprised when she saw that it was from Bliss Railways. "What's this?"

"Something John Snowden said helped me figure it out. It turns out that man writing the articles was being paid to do so by your board of directors."

"What! How can you be certain?"

Lucien gestured toward the letter she held. "They've admitted it. I first noticed someone following me in Bath on our return trip, but when I thought about it I recalled seeing him in Porlock as well. John was able to track the man down and, um,
convince
him to help."

Tempy cocked one eyebrow at his choice of words, but didn't say anything. When he paused at though waiting for her to speak, she gestured for him to continue.

"John confronted your board of directors yesterday with his proof." He jutted his chin toward the letter in her hand. "That letter is their response to me. John insisted that if they didn't write it, he'd bring the police into the matter. You'll have to decide how you want to proceed from here."

"You interceded without speaking to me?"

"I'm sorry." His look of remorse seemed genuine. "With what happened at the casino the other night, I didn't think it was wise to wait. After what he did when there was nothing illicit to write about, I could only imagine what he might do if he caught even the hint of real scandal."

Tempy frowned. To avoid speaking, she pulled the letter from the envelope and read through it. There it was. The board's admission that they'd been trying to manipulate her into selling her controlling share of Bliss Railways by paying Byrd to harass her. Apparently, they'd also sent a letter of apology to her home. She must have just missed receiving it.

This meant Byrd was gone from her life. She no longer had to worry about opening the paper and finding yet another article criticizing her. She tried to suppress the smile that wanted to escape her lips, but she couldn't. "You've made things quite difficult for me, Lord Cavendish."

Her smile must have been infectious, because she caught him grinning back at her. "And how is that, Miss Bliss?"

"You've given me two wonderful betrothal gifts. How can I possibly repay you?"

He took a step closer. "I know exactly how."

"Yes?" she asked.

"Let's leave for Scotland now."

"I like the way you think," she said, grinning in delight. "How soon can we leave?"

Thank you for reading Gambling on a Scoundrel.

If you enjoyed this book, please look for Sheridan's novella,
It Takes a Spy
(Summer, 2014) from her Secrets and Seduction series. It is a prelude to two other full length novels,
Lady Catherine's Secret
and
Once Upon a Spy,
which will be coming out later in 2014.

All authors appreciate hearing from readers. If you'd like to leave a review on Amazon:

Click here to go to the Amazon page for this book.

When I first planned this novel, I wanted Tempy to be a writer for Mr. Charles Dickens. I researched the time period and chose one that suited my needs with respect to the story I wanted to tell. In doing so, I researched some of the women of the time who were doing notable things. Many of the people who I mention in this book existed, and I'd like to offer some brief notes on their lives.

I also strongly encourage you to read some of Mr. Wilkie Collins's books. You can probably download them for free on your e-reader.

I won't bother to outline the life of Mr. Charles Dickens. You've probably read a number of his books and are well acquainted with him. My favorite is "The Tale of Two Cities."

Eliza Lynn Linton (10 February 1822 – 14 July 1898) was more of a "real-life" version of Tempy. She was the first salaried female journalist and was on staff for Charles Dickens when he published "Household Words." I found it quite interesting to discover that she was a critic of "the new woman" and wrote an attack on feminism. She also believed that politics was the natural sphere of men, and she fought against the vote for women.

According to her obituary in The Times, she held an "animosity towards all, or rather, some of those facets which may be conveniently called the 'New Woman'."

In the 1850′s, Lady Clementina Hawarden (Clementina Maude, Viscountess Harwarden 1 June 1822 – 19 January 1865) began taking photographs, first of Ireland's landscape near her home in Dundrum County, Tipperary, Ireland, and later focusing on her ten children (yes, TEN). In 1859, when the family relocated to their London home in South Kensington, she set up a studio there to continue her work.

While many male photographers of the day traveled extensively to photograph foreign lands, Lady Hawarden remained at home, capturing images of her family. It is from these photos that we can have a peek at the life of an upper-class family. Sometimes her daughters wore fashionable Victorian gowns, and at other times they wore costumes from the family's dress-up box. Reenacting historical tableaux was a popular pastime of the day.

Lady Clementina's first public exhibit of her work took place in 1863 in an annual event hosted by the Photographic Society of London, and then again in the following year. She won a silver medal both years. Sadly, she died of pneumonia in January of 1865 at the age 42, leaving behind ten children and a large body of work.

To see many of her photographs, visit the website for the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Another historical figure I used in my story was Wilkie Collins (8 January 1824 – 23 September 1889). He was a longtime friend to Charles Dickens and wrote a number of books. The serialized version of
No Name
was his second novel to be published with
All the Year Round
. His first to be serialized,
The Woman in White
, was pivotal in starting a new genre of "sensation novels" (a blend of Gothic horror and domestic realism) and is considered by many to be the first mystery novel. He also wrote more than sixty short stories and fourteen plays, some of which were performed by Mr. Dickens's acting company.

Mr. Collins initially studied to become a lawyer, but after the death of his father he published his first book. He met Dickens in 1851, and following that, he became heavily involved in Dickens's world, performing in his acting company and publishing short stories in Dickens's magazine "
Household Words
." He also began writing essays, dramatic criticisms, and a travel book.

In the late 1850s he began to suffer from "rheumatic gout," which we now call rheumatoid arthritis, and in January 1862 he finally resigned from the staff of
All the Year Round
so that he could spend some time in Bath for his health. In 1863 he traveled to spas in Germany and Italy. Over time, he became addicted to laudanum, and this is thought to have contributed to his death. His book "The Moonstone" was published in 1868, and Dorothy L Sayers described it as "probably the very finest detective story ever written."

I inaccurately promoted the Village Hall in Porlock to a Town Hall, a building which I entirely invented for this story. Most of Porlock, however, is much as described, with the exception of "
No Common Scents
," a store which actually exists in Yellow Springs, Ohio.

Sheridan Jeane is the pen name of Sheridan Edmondson (formerly Ferguson). She grew up in Huber Heights, a suburb of Dayton, Ohio, and now lives in Sewickley, Pennsylvania, just outside of Pittsburgh.

Sheridan has always been a reader and a writer, and her bachelor's degree was in Computer Science with a minor in English.

She's thrilled to be able to share her stories with her readers.