Lady Scandal (4 page)

The question came from far off, miles from the darkened bedchamber invading his mind.

“Mr. Tanner.” The daffodil recalled him to the room, the ugly, anything-but-succulent room, and asked again, “Have you any experience successfully managing estates?”

Estates. Now this was more in line with what he’d expected.
Amherst over amour
, he reminded his wayward-thinking mind and answered truthfully. “None at all.”

Keeping his attention firmly entrenched in
this
room, he allowed his gaze to be drawn behind her, to the crewel work decorating the framed partition. The outdoor scene was magnificently rendered.

“You’ve experience, then, managing them
unsuccessfully
?”

“No, not that either.” He turned to face her, catching sight of a forlorn expression. “No experience overseeing estates at all.”

“Yet you wish to do so now?”

“With all my heart.”

“Are you so very confident of your success, then? At so new an endeavor?”

“I cannot claim it with absolute certainty when so many facets beyond my influence come into play, mother nature being but one. It is a vast undertaking we discuss, of that I’m aware, but I vow to give it my unceasing effort.” Again his gaze fell on the screen’s outdoor scene. Shade trees, a waterfall, intricate vines of flowers adorning the perimeter…all created with
yarn
.

“What are the biggest failings you declare?”

“My failings?” His brows rose and he left off inspecting the impressive landscape to turn his attention to what—or who—might lie beyond it. “Would you not rather have an accounting of my successes? Estate management aside, I’ve had a number—”

“Let me articulate it differently. What are your most significantly unpleasant character traits? Deficiencies in your personality a wife might need contend with?”

Personality deficiencies?
These questions were enough to make his stomach roil!

After leaving Duffield at first light and traveling the seventeen miles on horseback to this neglected property where Hastings insisted he report—and not Amherst as he’d anticipated—then cooling his heels for hours in the grim study while studying his competition, Zeus realized hunger was likely the culprit, but regardless, he simply wanted to be done with these infernal questions. Wanted to meet the real Lady Scandal in the flesh, evaluate how eager his flesh was to join with hers.

Ready to bear his children, indeed. Vexing woman wouldn’t even bare her face. “I’m an absolute
bear
when hungry,” he fairly growled.

How much longer would he be obliged to wait? First the interminable delay in Duffield where Hastings had somehow scrounged the ballocks to order Zeus not to venture past the village. In defiance, he’d set out for Amherst three times, only to have ferocious storms boil up from nothing, forcing him back. As if Fate didn’t want him catching a glimpse of his long-denied reward.

“Very prettily answered. Now please tell me something less cavalier.”

He ordered his hands to stop strangling each other and brought his mangled fingers in front of him, clapping his palms together. “I’m impatient. I tend to be unforgiving when wronged. I don’t suffer fools, and in my experience, most all aristocrats act foolish. I don’t—”

“’Tis enough, I’m sure.” She held up one gloved hand, biting back another smile if he wasn’t mistaken. “Can we then assume you aren’t a thief nor a murderer?”

“We?” His eyes flicked toward the partition behind her.
Lady Scandal, my patience is hanging by a thread…

“You and I,” the companion replied, plumping her cheeks by freeing another of those cheerful smiles.

“A murderer? Nay. But I have been a thief.”

“Uh-ahhh…” She seemed at a loss, choking on some sort of reply.

Well, good. Strangest accounting of questions he’d ever been a party to. Most frustrating as well.

Zeus caught the hint of a whisper then the daffodil cocked her ear toward the corner. So there
was
someone back there.

It irked him that these “ladies” were playing games with his life. “Why don’t you show yourself?” he called out, overloud. “Face your future husband and pelter him with questions directly?”

Let me see whether you live up to your name? And my infernal imaginings.

Chapter Two

An Exchange of Forfeits Goes
Afoot
Awry

“In due time,” the mysterious female rejoined immediately.

For not demurring, reluctant esteem for the woman rose in Zeus, though he couldn’t resist tapping one booted foot on the floor. When the edge of the rug that’d seen better years muffled the sound, he shifted back a step and tapped again. Louder.

“Exhibiting your lack of patience won’t hasten the process, I can assure you,” the same dulcet, unattributed voice admonished.

Plowing one hand through his hair, Zeus commanded his feet to still.

Assuming the composure he
wished
he felt, the companion calmly turned back to him. “Would you care to elaborate upon the circumstances which caused you to steal?”

“No, I would not.”

“Would you tell us anyway?” His mysterious wife-to-be asked through the screen.

Damn female, making it sound as though she uttered a sweetly phrased request when they both knew it was one he dare not ignore. He might hold the purse in this potential partnership, but she held all the strings. At least for now.

“Mr. Tanner?” his nebulous nemesis prompted.

“My mother was unwell,” he shared reluctantly.

It was a time he preferred not to dwell on or speak of, but when that brought no response from either of them, Zeus felt obliged to elucidate. “It was a harsh winter. She’d fallen ill and could no longer work. She was starving.”

“And you?” came the disembodied voice, subdued now. “Were you hungry as well?”

Zeus didn’t attempt to stifle his small but very real smile. “That I was, but my thieving had an unexpected boon when the butcher caught me pilfering his bacon.”

He heard a relieved sigh from the unseen woman. “Made you his apprentice, did he?”

“Nay, but he did make my mum his wife.”

“You may proceed to the next question, Wivy.”

“Why don’t you ask it yourself, madam?” His own impertinence surprised him, given all that was at stake, but he forged ahead nevertheless. “It is with understandable urgency that I desire to make your acquaintance through something other than an embroidered barrier or the indomitable Hastings.”

“Soon enough, my impatient applicant,” she said with an indulgent smile in her voice. “Do carry on, Wivy.”

The blonde grinned at him, and if Zeus didn’t know any better, he’d think she gave him an encouraging nod, indicating he was doing well. “Please tell us about your strengths—and before you ask, I don’t mean how many stone you can lift or carry but your personality strengths, those that comprise your moral fiber.”

From the hidden corner, a rusty cackle of what he thought passed for laughter jolted through him, chasing the shadows from his memories. “I think we can glean that one ourselves, Wivy!”

“Madam?” He turned to face his invisible adversary and bowed his head in a show of respect before yanking it upright and glaring at that damnable shield. No doubt, she could see him while obscuring herself. “What character strength do you believe you’ve already ascertained and on such short acquaintance?” And by God, what the deuce was he doing bantering with her? This virago who hid herself and ordered others to do her bidding, likely so ugly or so old she feared running off suitors at first glance. But no…that oddly enchanting, uninhibited cackle of a laugh couldn’t belong to a crone. Or could it?

In return, the chosen applicant will receive a genteel, amiable wife ready to bear his children. Female in question is of sound intellect and generally appealing countenance
, he recalled, hoping to mitigate his growing concerns. Appealing countenance, heh? He’d like to see for himself.

“
Honesty
, Mr. Tanner. Based on your pithy replies, it is quite apparent you possess forthright honesty.” Before he could react to that pronouncement, she continued. “Please tell us about
your
education.”

“It came from the streets of London. Back alleys too.”

“Then you know
nothing
of estate management?” She sounded vastly disappointed.

“I wasn’t asked about my education in the realm of estate management, now was I? Only of my experience.”

“I’m asking now.”

“Last I checked, the streets of London contained lending libraries. While my practical application of such knowledge may be nominal…” He placed the tips of two fingers to the side of his head and rapped lightly. “The information is here, I promise you, simply waiting for the opportunity to be utilized.” Zeus started to rattle off a number of facts about Amherst and the vast lands comprising it but decided demonstrating his extensive knowledge of crops and herds, of tenants and taxes could wait until
he
garnered some answers. “I’d like to begin asking a few questions of my own, starting with how the blazes a female who lacks the gumption to show her face expects to convince me of her ‘readiness to bear my children’? That is part of the bargain, as I recall, and unless you intend to practice immaculate conception right along with the Blessed Virgin, you’ll be showing me significantly more than your face before the deed is done!”

“Mr. Tanner!” The daffodil’s face flamed. Her hands fluttered. “I— I…”

He felt rotten. Mum had taught him better. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to render you speechless nor take my
honest impatience
out on anyone.”

A muffled snort then another splurt of hilarity met his ears. “Wivy, you may leave now. I’ll conduct the rest of the interview.” The embroidered scene trembled, followed by yet another snort. “I do believe I’d like to be alone with our guest.”

Satisfaction surged through Zeus. Now he and the mysterious Lady Scandal would get somewhere. Somewhere that led him closer to her body, and closer to Amherst. Although, at the moment, he was more eager to meet the “lady” who possessed such unladylike laughter—laughter he somehow found eminently engaging—than he was to seek redress for ancient acts of contempt and derision. Trifling now, they almost seemed, when he was faced with his
future
.

Though since meeting her—or nearly so—his conscience nagged, poking at him like a pointy pebble in his boot.
Tell her the truth. All of it.
Ignoring the annoying sense of scruples, Zeus rammed his hair back, wishing he could see through the partition as easily.

As she admired the slightly muddled specimen of male perfection through the divider, Juliet had to remember she was invisible to him. One wouldn’t know it, the way he fixed his gaze upon her precise location, fairly stripping her bare with the fierce expression he directed her way.

An evocative warmth spiraled through her in the wake of his heated gaze, tensing her muscles and setting her on edge. Flickering about her stomach and bringing a boldness to her tongue she’d not employed before, not with a father and then a husband who each maintained womenfolk should be blindly—and silently—obedient in all things.

Feminine opinions were
not
to be voiced. Certainly not heard and considered.

But with the way Mr. Tanner held himself and beheld her through the screen, all confident cockiness and self assurance in spite of the outrageous answers he supplied, Juliet doubted he’d allow himself to be threatened by any “mere” woman.

In fact, part of her dared speculate…might he
solicit
her opinions on occasion, given how, even though he made his reluctance keenly apparent, he remained amenable to discussing each and every query topic she broached? A husband who talked with her! Would that not be sparkish fine?

And Lord how her throat hurt! He made her laugh, this particular applicant. Causing the rusty, seldom-used reflex to scrape up her neck and emerge without constraint, sounding somewhat like a braying donkey she feared, but oh, how wonderful it felt. Almost as wonderful as the wicked, wanton urges he brought forth with nothing but his presence.

Juliet’s fingers ached to touch the strong, corded muscles of his neck visible above his simply tied cravat, the muscles that even now worked as he clenched his jaw. No surprise, given the subterfuge he’d caught her enacting. But unlike the previous man who’d turned nasty when he’d found her out, Mr. Tanner only challenged her to face him, to
speak
with him.

“Please, Wivy,” she whispered, not above pleading with her friend to leave them alone, but not wanting him to hear how desperately. After the plethora of unsuccessful interviews they’d conducted the last couple of weeks, after all she’d endured, she’d truly begun to despair of ever finding a potential, decent mate.

It was a miracle she hadn’t canceled the entire scheme. While she’d seriously contemplated abandoning everything a time or two during some of the more wretched interviews, she hadn’t.

And now a man stood before her, his responses nearly so absurdly perfect, Juliet was half afraid to ask him anything else. But ask she must.