In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady (3 page)

“Admiration is it now?” His wide mouth quirked in a faint smile. “That is putting it kindly. But yes, there is education to be had, even if it is self-motivated. Yet formal education is something that should be taken advantage of—as I keep telling my brothers.”

“How many brothers do you have, my lord?” Rebecca asked.

He glanced at her, those gray eyes impassive. “Two, Miss Leland, eighteen-year-old twins.”

“Young then,” Susanna said, nodding. “I feel like my eighteenth birthday was so long ago.”

Lady Rosa flashed her a mortified frown, as if Su
sanna should never allude to her advanced, unmarried age of twenty-seven.

“Youth does not excuse common sense,” Lord Parkhurst said.

“Perhaps they see that you do not have a university education, my lord,” Rebecca said, “and yet you seem to have survived.”

They looked at each other for a moment—a moment too long, for Lady Rosa's brows rose.

“Susanna, do escort me to the dessert table,” Lady Rosa said. “I am suddenly quite famished. Enjoy your afternoon, my lord.”

Wearing an apologetic look, Susanna was led away.

Julian watched the gaze exchanged between the two sisters and withheld his amusement. Susanna thought she was leaving Rebecca with the devil himself—and who could blame her, after their evening together?

But Rebecca…he did not quite understand her mood. Last night, she'd been bold, in command, even fearless, though three men held her and her relatives practically captive. Today she was a subdued lady of the
ton
, patiently allowing her mother the lead, as any daughter who expected to be led to the altar would.

“Lady Rosa did that quite neatly,” Julian remarked.

“She has had much practice,” Rebecca said dryly.

“Then I suggest we reward her.” He held out his arm. “Would you care to walk?”

She eyed him, her eyes faintly devilish, her lips
curved in a lovely smile. Then she placed her hand lightly on his arm. “I imagine I cannot come to harm in a conservatory.”

“You could always scream,” he countered.

“And find myself married before the week is out? I think not.”

“Ah, you are crushing my self-esteem. Would not many young ladies wish to be married to an earl?”

“Perhaps not many, for you are not married.”

“By choice. And neither are you.”

“Stating the obvious, my lord.”

They walked quietly for several minutes, weaving their way out of sight of the other guests, although the murmur of voices never quite went away. At the rear of the conservatory, the glass separated them from the walled garden outside. They paused as if to admire it, but Julian knew she must not be thinking of the view.

He was thinking of
his
view…of her. Her lovely rose-colored gown hugged her torso, revealing herself to be shaped much as she'd been painted. She was slender but not fragile, small, yet rounded. Her hair was styled artfully, curled, with carefully placed ribbons. Her bodice was high enough that he found himself wondering if she hid the Scandalous Lady beneath her garments.

Patience, he reminded himself. He'd spent the morning speaking with people about her family. Though he'd heard of several of the family scandals, the Lelands and
the Cabots certainly did not seem like thieves. And Rebecca was far too young to have stolen the diamond herself almost ten years before. So how had she come by it?

He'd realized during the long night that the best way to discover answers to his questions was to earn her trust. He had diligently tried to be unassuming at the luncheon, wanting her to believe that his intensity of the previous evening was more about his overindulgence. And to some degree, that was true. He shouldn't have intimidated her, standing too close, looking so menacing, which was always rather easy for him to do.

She didn't seem intimidated. She inhaled the scents of the flowers all around them, then exhaled almost on a sigh—but not a sigh of resignation. There was something very…unusual about her nonplussed reaction to the wager.

But then again, only an unusual woman would pose for a nude portrait. He wondered how unfettered her morals truly were.

And that aroused him far too much, he realized. He could not let himself dwell on her nudity, her lack of inhibitions. He had to focus on the Scandalous Lady, and bringing it back to its rightful owner—him.

He began the hunt for information. “You and Miss Susanna Leland seem close to your cousin Lady Elizabeth.”

She eyed him, a smile touching her full lips. “We are
of an age, and we were raised together at Madingley Court.”

“Your families all lived together?”

“Have you seen Madingley Court?” she asked, amused.

He nodded. “Ah, I see. The palace of a duke, of course. So you were not too crowded living together.”

“Not at all,” she answered, searching his face with the faintest confusion.

He knew she wondered at his motives, why he didn't bring up the wager. And his talk of crowded living conditions revealed too much of his own childhood issues.

“So the three of you were like sisters,” he said.

“We still are,” she answered, her voice firm. “We would support each other through anything.”

“Obviously,” he said. “They risked much for you with their declaration last night.”

“We would risk anything for each other.”

“You'd risk exposure and humiliation?”

He thought she'd drop her hand from his arm, but she didn't, only looked up at him coolly.

“Are you threatening such a thing?” she asked. “I would have thought you a gentleman.”

“I am a gentleman, Miss Leland. But that painting does not make a gentleman remember the civilized part of his brain.”

He felt her stiffen.

“But then you knew that would happen when you posed,” he continued mildly. “Or did you not think beyond a momentary thrill? Why would you do such a thing?”

“Are you
lecturing
me, my lord? A true gentleman would protect a lady's sensibilities, would forget the things he'd seen.”

“You have not displayed a lady's sensibilities, have you?”

She dropped her hand and faced him now, speaking in a low voice, her hazel eyes flashing. “Now you're offending me. You know nothing about me.”

“I would like to.”

“No, you wouldn't. You want to win a wager with your silly friends.”

“Which you and your silly female relatives made possible by your behavior last night.”

“How disapproving you sound, my lord.”

“No, I am simply stating a fact. Your guilt makes you believe that everyone is censorious.”

“Guilt?” she cried, then looked down the path and lowered her voice. “I feel no guilt whatsoever.”

“Then why else would you attempt to steal the painting?”

“For the simple reason that it was supposed to be in France, not here where people who know me will see it.”

“Then why pose, Miss Leland? Why risk it?”

She paused, and in her mercurial eyes, he could see her weighing what to reveal. He waited almost impatiently—and he was never an impatient man. Then to his surprise, she stepped closer. He could feel the heat from her body, imagined how it would feel with just another step, as she pressed against him. His logical brain threatened to shut down, and that had never happened to him.

“Did you ever just want to be adventurous, my lord?” she asked softly.

He blinked at her, and revealed the truth without questioning if he should. “No, Miss Leland. I've never wanted such a thing in all my life.”

She gave him a pitying look. “Then I guess you can't understand my motives.” She spun on her toes and began to walk back the way they'd come. Pausing, she spoke over her shoulder. “It would look suspicious if we did not return to the luncheon guests together.”

He approached her and held up his arm for her hand. “For someone who wants adventure, you care very much what people think.”

“Just because I do not wish to hurt my mother's feelings, does not change my inner longings, my lord.”

The pang of lust was sudden and swift, taking him by surprise, darkening his soul.

“You display deep, sensual longings by posing nude, Miss Leland,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She didn't look at him. “It is none of your business who or what I might be longing for.”

“Not just adventure?”

She didn't answer.

They reached the rest of the party too swiftly, and she left him with a perfunctory smile. He'd been hoping to gradually win her trust, but knew their clash had not helped his cause. He was a meticulous planner, and always held to his plans. Until Rebecca Leland. Somehow, she'd goaded him to a place where his brain couldn't seem to catch up with his mouth.

Other guests glanced at them with interest, and heads came together for whispers. Susanna gave Rebecca a wide-eyed look; Lady Rosa preened with satisfaction.

And Rebecca did not look at him again.

R
ebecca marched boldly into the overheated ballroom that night, and was grateful that her sister and cousin did not hang back. They were announced, along with her mother, and the crowd barely glanced their way as the conversations whirled around them.

“See, no one cares or knows,” Rebecca hissed between smiling lips.

She'd spent the early evening insisting to Susanna and Elizabeth that they could not cancel their engagements and hide at the Madingley town house forever. She would not have thought them so tentative; she was learning much these past two days.

Elizabeth took her arm, leading her away from the crowd to skirt about the edges. Lady Rosa disappeared within, but Susanna followed them.

Elizabeth ducked behind a potted fern and pulled the sisters with her. “I know what you're thinking, Rebecca, but
he
visited me today!”

“So you said.” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “You have spent your entire life around Peter Derby. He grew up as your brother's friend. He is not a bad sort.”

Susanna gave a soft snort.

After a warning glance at her sister, Rebecca reminded them, “He has matured, as have we all. You can handle him, Elizabeth. Of all three men, he seems the one who would treat you the gentlest.”

“What does that mean?” Elizabeth demanded, eyes going wide. “How did Lord Parkhurst treat you?”

Susanna pushed her way between them and lowered her voice. “He was alone with her for a quarter of an hour. Mama was practically swooning with excitement.”

“I hope you told her not to,” Rebecca said crossly. “It means nothing. He may be an earl, but he is the most staid, dull—”

“Dull?” Susanna pulled her spectacles out of her reticule, donned them, and examined Rebecca as if she were on a dissection table in the professor's laboratory.

Rebecca tried to will away her blush without success. “You heard me.”

“I don't need my ears, because I have eyes!” Susanna said with force. “I saw the way he looked at you last night. And today he was in a hurry to have you alone.”

“He is trying to see into my mind, to discover the truth—to win his silly wager.”

“It's true, men will do much to prove themselves to other men,” Susanna said.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and said to Elizabeth, “Now she wants us to remember how much older she is than we are. That she has so much more experience. I have been out of the schoolroom and in Society for some years now. I may have been sick, but that was several years ago—”

“No, it wasn't,” Susanna said softly. “You had a fever only a few months past.”

Rebecca dismissed it, though inside herself she knew the unwelcome reoccurrence had…changed her. “A cold, nothing more. You all simply overreacted.”

Susanna and Elizabeth exchanged a worried glance.

“Stop this!” Rebecca said, throwing her hands wide. “Why can you not enjoy yourselves? There is nothing those three men can do to us!”

“Except reveal it all,” Elizabeth said softly. “If my brother finds out—”

Rebecca groaned. “He won't, and neither will ours, if we play this carefully.”

“But they plan to stalk us!” Susanna said. “I…I didn't say so earlier, but I saw Mr. Wade.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Really? He has quite the reputation, and I know ladies have been ruined associating with him!”

“That is an exaggeration,” Rebecca said, even as she saw Susanna straighten in self-defense. Her sister liked
to pretend she was worldly, but she'd withdrawn from men for many years, had pursued her studies and her interests, insisting she was happy. Rebecca hadn't believed it. And somehow, with their brother's return and his satisfying marriage, Susanna had realized she might be able to find her own happiness.

Much as Rebecca didn't believe in marriage for herself, she suspected that Susanna did. Would this wager turn her away from Society again? Rebecca wouldn't have it! “Where did you see Mr. Wade?”

“In the park. I went for a ride after the luncheon.” Susanna hesitated. “I wish you could have gone with me. You know it is not too late to learn to ride.”

“Please, we've had this discussion,” Rebecca said impatiently. “What about Mr. Wade?”

“Oh…nothing much. I had my sketchbook with me, and he saw it, and insisted he would sit in the park with me.”

“Did you allow it?” Elizabeth asked, her voice breathless.

“He was…insistent. But we remained in a very public place,” she added with haste. “I sketched the flowers, and he lay in the grass at my feet. It was…peculiar.”

“It sounds exciting,” Rebecca said firmly. “He is an eligible man with good family connections. His brother is Viscount Wade.”

“The viscount is blind,” Elizabeth said, as if imparting important gossip none of them had heard. “He's a
friend of our cousin Daniel, who says he's so completely normal that—”

“We're getting off the subject,” Rebecca said with exasperation.

“Oh, sorry.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I feel like I can't even keep my thoughts in order!”

“I understand the feeling,” Rebecca said heatedly, even as she turned back to Susanna. “Did anything else happen? Did Mr. Wade press you for details about the painting?”

“Not really. He seemed…enthralled by it all.” Even as she blushed, her gaze focused over Rebecca's shoulder. “Well, this wager has certainly made the Earl of Parkhurst come out of his cocoon.”

Rebecca whirled around, peering through the palm fronds. She saw the earl immediately—how could she miss him? Tall and so solid, with evening clothes that only gave him the veneer of civilization, though tailored well to his muscular body. She shivered, almost wishing she weren't so intrigued.

But he was even easier to spot because at his side were two equally tall, identical young men, both dark-haired. They moved with coltish strides, all arms and legs and eager eyes.

“Are those his brothers?” Elizabeth asked.

“He mentioned them,” Susanna said. “They look as if they've never been to a ball before.”

“Perhaps not,” Rebecca mused. “They're only eighteen.”

“Mere infants.” Susanna shook her head on a sigh. “This afternoon, Lord Parkhurst seemed quite exasperated with them. And that attitude seems to have continued.”

Rebecca watched eagerly as the earl spoke to his brothers, a frown lowering his heavy brows. They weren't even looking at him, glancing everywhere else—at the women dressed as flamboyantly as peacocks, at the dancers already performing a quadrille in the center of the ballroom.

“I wonder where their mother is?” Rebecca asked.

“I do not remember seeing much of her recently, since two of Lord Parkhurst's sisters have married,” Susanna answered.

“How many siblings does he have?” Rebecca tried not to sound too eager for information.

“Just one more sister, not yet out of the schoolroom.”

“And he's the eldest, in charge of them all.” Elizabeth shook her head.

“Overbearing, I imagine,” Rebecca said. “I could tell that last night.”

“He seemed rather commanding to me.” Susanna eyed her too closely. “And you met him toe to toe.”

Rebecca shrugged.

“And enjoyed it,” Susanna continued, her voice mildly accusing.

“I did, and I don't regret it. If we are to be stuck in this situation, we must have fun. I am glad you sketched with Mr. Wade and, Elizabeth, I'm happy that Mr. Derby called on you. How many more shopping expeditions can we go on, after all?”

Both women sighed, and together they all looked back at the main floor.

“Do you think the other two men will appear?” Susanna asked softly.

Rebecca grinned. “Of course. They want to win, too. We have to make sure
we
win.”

“I have a thought for how we might do that,” Susanna began.

“Tell us later,” Rebecca said, catching a glimpse of the earl alone, now that his brothers had deserted him.

“But—”

Rebecca started to sail out into the crowd, only to have her arm grabbed from behind.

“Wait!” Elizabeth hissed in her ear.

Rebecca realized she'd almost run right into Lord Parkhurst's brothers. They had met up with several other young friends on the edge of the dance floor, too close to their hiding place.

“I didn't want you bowling them over,” Elizabeth said in a softer voice.

“I'll head toward the musicians on the right,” Re
becca said. “You two go left, as if you've just emerged from the hallway beyond. If either of our mothers see us, they won't think we're up to something.”

“They always used to know when we were up to something,” Elizabeth said, smiling at the memories.

“We may not be girls anymore, but we can still have fun,” Rebecca said with feeling.

Before them, the group of young men all suddenly guffawed loudly, clapping each other on the back. In their midst, the tall Delane boys, the earl's brothers, seemed to be holding court. Rebecca didn't know their names, but that would be useless, because she couldn't tell them apart.

“We
saw the painting,” one twin said, elbowing his brother, who snickered.

There was a gasp from their admiring friends—and from Elizabeth at Rebecca's back.

“We cannot be surprised,” Susanna whispered. “Overhearing a discussion between men was how I first heard where the painting was hung. That's why my plan is necessary. I could tell you about it—”

“Shh!” Rebecca said.

One of the young men grumbled, “You're both only members of the club because your brother is an earl. And who is going to go against his sponsorship?”

“Stop being so jealous,” one of the Delane brothers said, “or we won't sponsor you when it's time.”

“Can't it be time soon?” a freckled redhead asked
plaintively. “How else will we see the painting?”

“It's stunning,” said a Delane twin. “Totally nude—”

“There is a scarf,” the other said.

Rebecca was indignantly thinking the same thing—as if the scarf made it somehow more acceptable, she realized, holding back a laugh.

“She might even be here!” the first twin said. “My brother heard she's one of the
ton.
Can you believe that?”

They all craned their necks, as if a naked woman was about to appear performing the steps of the quadrille.

The second twin groaned. “She has the pinkest—”

Susanna clutched her arm and yanked, pulling Rebecca against the wall. “That is enough,” Susanna said. “You know it was never supposed to go this far.”

“Now don't panic,” Rebecca said in a soothing voice.

“Panic?” Elizabeth squeaked. “Did Lord Parkhurst talk about the painting to his brothers?”

Rebecca inexplicably found herself defending the man. “They're members, and the painting has been on display for almost a week, or so Susanna overheard. I can't believe he would have told his brothers about our adventures last night. He is far too staid for that.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don't think you know enough about him to form an opinion.”

“He told me himself that he's never once wanted to
be adventurous. How much more dull can one be?”

Ignoring her, Elizabeth turned to Susanna. “You will tell us your idea later tonight?”

“Of course,” Susanna said smoothly. “Everything will be all right.”

Rebecca used their commiseration to slip away. Much as she'd defended the earl, she felt angry and uneasy. After all, she didn't know him, beyond his possession of a title and wealth, and what the gossipmongers had said about him. He could be a lying rogue.

But the lying rogue was in the middle of a group of older ladies, talking to just one. Though she was far smaller than he, she stood before him and wrung her hands, looking out over the crowd.

Could this be Lord Parkhurst's mother, looking for her twin sons? She pitied the poor woman, even as Rebecca eyed the eldest son.

Perhaps it was time for her to turn the tables on him, she thought, feeling wicked. She marched straight toward the earl, and he saw her coming as he looked over his mother's head. If she hoped for a warning, or signs of unease, she was disappointed. He seemed unflappable.

“Lord Parkhurst, how wonderful to see you here!” she called, waving and giggling as she approached.

She saw his mother's look of recognition, even as the woman glanced up at her son.

Lord Parkhurst took Rebecca's proffered hand in his
massive palm and bowed over it. Thank goodness they were both wearing gloves, for the way he held her hand a bit too long made her feel breathless.

“How pleasant to see you again, Miss Leland.” He turned to the older woman. “Lady Parkhurst, may I present Miss Rebecca Leland? Miss Leland, my mother.”

Rebecca swept into a deep curtsy, and noticed with satisfaction that the earl's gaze dipped to her cleavage. She would use every feminine wile she possessed to defeat him, hoping that her sister and cousin would do the same. She would have to remind them of the goal.

Lady Parkhurst bowed her head briefly, even as she smiled. “Miss Leland, I believe we have met before. I know your mother.”

“Of course, my lady. But we cannot expect a man to realize that.” She smiled innocently up at the earl.

The dowager countess sighed. “Forgive Parkhurst. He does not socialize as much as he should, which leads to ignorance.”

Rebecca imagined it had been some time since anyone called this man ignorant. He only arched a dark brow and made no reply.

He must have received his size from his father, for his mother was not much taller than Rebecca. Her hair was silver gray—how could it not be, after raising six children!—but it caused a striking loveliness when matched with her gray eyes.

“Ignorance?” Rebecca echoed, putting a hand to her
chest in shock. “Only a mother could accuse his lordship of such.”