Lady of Scandal Page 4

  “What about me? Is there no sympathy for the child you once knew?”

  Blake’s expression softened, and Victoria sensed she had touched upon a nerve. Maybe an inkling of kindness existed in his heart for the girl he had once liked and often teased.

  Determined to make the most of the moment, she stepped forward and said softly, “I have plans for my life and becoming a mistress is not one of them.”

  “Do such plans include marriage to Jacob Hobbs?”

  “Jacob?” she asked, confused.

  “Do you love Jacob Hobbs?”

  “Would it matter if I did?”

  The tenderness in his expression vanished along with her advantage. Back was the hardened, angry man.

  “Despite what you think of me, I would not destroy a love match.” His look turned intense. “Do you love him?”

  Victoria opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. For a heart-stopping moment she knew he read the truth in her eyes. Anyway, she could not bring herself to lie—to tell him she loved Jacob.

  Blake nodded. “I did not think so. From what I’ve learned of Mr. Hobbs, he would not make you happy.”

  She pierced him with a hard stare. “And you believe you could?”

  He stepped closer and touched her arm lightly. “Yes. You wanted me once, remember? You used to follow me around and kick the back of my heels to gain my attention.”

  Her cheeks burned in remembrance. “I was a child then.”

  “You swore you knew what you wanted. You were quite rude about it too. Remember the stables? You stood there demanding Spencer and I go back to the house at once, leaving our lady friends behind.”

  His gaze stayed on her, reminding her…

  Victoria had searched the entire house for Blake, and the stables had been her last resort. Throwing open the stable doors, she had found Blake and Spencer in the hay, with a farmer’s daughter beneath each of them. The shock of discovery had hit her so hard she was momentarily unable to move. But then her temper had flared at the sight of Blake, her Blake, touching the blond-haired girl. Rage had consumed Victoria, and she had stomped her little foot until the girls had fled out of fear of discovery.

  Yes, as a child she had been as temperamental as a ball of fire, and she was helpless to halt her embarrassment at the memory.

  “I would make a horrible mistress,” Victoria said, returning to the present.

  “Is that so?” He crossed his arms.

  “Yes. I have little experience…pleasing men…” she said. “And I think I’m frigid.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Frigid, you say? How would you know if you have no experience?”

  “I dislike kissing.”

  “Really? I find it difficult to believe a woman with a temper such as yours lacks passion.”

  “It’s true,” she insisted. “And that’s why you would be most dissatisfied with your decision and should find someone more…qualified for the…position.”

  “I’ll make you a wager, my dear. I’d like to kiss you and find out if what you say is true. If you don’t respond, then I won’t force you to fill the position.”

  Her heart lurched, and she grew suspicious. His offer sounded too easy. “Just one kiss?”

  He put his hand under her chin and turned her toward him. Dipping his head slightly, he said, “Just one.”

  She nodded in consent, then watched in fascinated horror as his mouth lowered. His lips, gentle at first, became more insistent, and he pulled her against him. Victoria felt herself engulfed. Overcome by his masculinity, her soft body molded against his hard chest. The heat from his body seeped into her own, cascading down her limbs. His lips were not demanding but seductive, urging and coaxing a response.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed; her lips parted. She grasped his forearms, but resisted the temptation to slide her hands up his arms around his neck. She stopped herself just in time. This wasn’t a lover’s kiss but a game he was playing. If she lost control to him so soon, he would swallow her whole.

  She pushed against his chest. Stepping back, she raised trembling fingers to her lips.

  He took a deep breath. “Just as I thought, Victoria. You are far from frigid.”

  “You’re wrong. I felt nothing.”

  He laughed. “Hardly. If the kiss continued, we would have gone up in flames. Besides, even if you didn’t respond, I would not have let you go free.”

  “Your word as a gentleman means nothing, then.”

  “I never said I was a gentleman. Your father made sure of that years ago.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond so she did not.

  “I’ll make you a promise, Victoria. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

  “I don’t understand. Is this a trick?”

  “I assure you that I’m serious. My vengeance is directed at your father, not you. Only if you ask will I touch you. The choice is yours.”

  “After going through such lengths to force me here, you now claim that you won’t expect intimacy from me?” Disbelief ran through her.

  “Having you with me is enough punishment for Charles Ashton. I’ve never forced a lady into my bed. I only ask that you live here. Do you agree?”

  Victoria struggled to comprehend Blake’s astonishing offer. Her mind raced like quicksilver, considering her options. Her dreams of financial independence and marrying for love did not have to be sacrificed. If she became Blake’s mistress, eventually he would tire of her and she would be free. Such an arrangement offered more independence than would marriage to someone like Jacob Hobbs.

  Marriage was forever.

  Divorce was extremely difficult to obtain.

  But a mistress offered much more flexibility. And if Blake never shared her bed, then she had nothing to fear.

  After their affair ended, Victoria would not be shackled with an unwanted husband. She would be free to pursue her goals. Of course, her prospects would be limited after her reputation was ruined. But Victoria was familiar with the men of the beau monde, and she was not interested. No, she would travel in search of her perfect mate. Maybe even go to America, where titles were less important than a man’s character. Surely she would find a man she could love and who would overlook a scandal.

  After reasoning with herself, she came to the conclusion that Blake’s offer was not such a bad one after all. It would free her of her father’s tyranny and of society’s demands.

  “I accept your offer, but do not think I will ever willingly come to your bed.”

  He grinned mischievously. “We shall see.”

  Spencer Ashton’s pulse quickened as he entered the gaming hall known as the Cock and Bull. Thick swirls of smoke wafted through the air and disappeared into the tobacco-stained rafters. Buxom barmaids scurried about delivering heavy tankards of cheap ale to their customers. The tables were full tonight, the stench of unwashed, perspiring bodies as overpowering as a pile of horse manure in the heat of summer.

  Spencer eyed a gaming table in the back of the room with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The familiar thrill of the game coursed through his veins, blaring like a trumpet in his brain, urging him on.

  But tonight was different. He wasn’t playing for himself. He was playing for Vicki, for her honor.

  His gut clenched at the thought of his sister. She had been right about Blake Mallorey; Spencer had acted the fool. Vicki was the only person he could count on in this world. She understood him, accepted him, weaknesses and all.

  And faults Spencer had. He drank too much; he had a compulsion for gambling; he was a failure in their father’s eyes. Worst of all, he had shamelessly taken advantage of his sister time and again—for Vicki’s secret investing talent had saved his neck from the noose of several of London’s greedy moneylenders.

  Which brought him here, to the Cock and Bull. He fully intended to win Vicki’s freedom from Blake Mallorey. Luck was with Spencer tonight. He felt it deep in his bones, and his fingers itched to hold a hand of cards.

  B
ut first he needed money to enter a high-stakes game, and since Victoria hadn’t been willing to give him her savings, he was left with one choice.

  Spencer took a breath and headed for the back table where the city’s most infamous moneylender sat.

  Slayer.

  He was a massive man, who appeared to weigh well over twenty stone, with beady black eyes in a fleshy face and sagging jowls. A throng of men surrounded Slayer, and Spencer was reminded of a feared dictator holding court.

  When Slayer raised cold eyes toward him, Spencer felt as if a hand had closed around his throat. For a heart-stopping moment, doubt flooded through him, but an inner voice burst forth, propelling him forward.

  Luck is with me tonight, he thought. I will amass what I need and pay Slayer back in the same night.

  After all, what could go wrong?

  Chapter 6

  Victoria arrived home from Blake’s town house to find Jacob waiting for her.

  He rushed at her and tugged at her cloak, nearly ripping the sleeves. Throwing the garment at the closest servant, he pulled her through the vestibule into the library.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded. “I arrived hours ago for our ride in the park, only to learn from your father of Lord Ravenspear’s outrageous proposition.”

  Victoria met Jacob’s angry gaze. After her encounter with Blake Mallorey, she was weary and drained. The last thing she desired was a confrontation with Jacob.

  “I needed solitude so I took a walk,” she said.

  “Alone?”

  She brushed past him and sat on a chaise longue. “Yes.”

  Jacob snorted. “I suppose your reputation does not matter henceforth.”

  She leapt to her feet to face him. “How dare you! Do you think I asked to become Ravenspear’s mistress?”

  Jacob stalked forward, his face twisted in annoyance. “You must have done something to encourage him. A man does not return from the dead and seek out a child he barely knew ten years earlier to become his paramour.”

  Victoria felt her cheeks burn. “I assure you, sir,” she said, her spine stiff in angry outrage, “I did nothing to encourage his attention.”

  Jacob grasped her upper arms, squeezing the tender flesh until she grimaced. “Are you sure? I wonder if you enticed him so as to escape marriage to me. I have recognized for quite some time how you act agreeable towards me only when your father is near. I suspect your true feelings are far from amicable. A flirt you are, Victoria Ashton.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but was stopped short by her father’s arrival.

  Charles Ashton strode into the library and closed the heavy doors. “Do not say something in the heat of anger, Victoria, which you will undoubtedly later regret.”

  He continued past the argumentative couple, poured himself a generous brandy and sat behind his massive desk. “I’ve done nothing but think of Ravenspear’s demands since his ‘visit’ and I’ve thought of a way to use his thirst for revenge to our advantage.”

  Victoria recognized the gleam in her father’s eye. She had seen it a thousand times before when Charles Ashton had clinched a business deal. She had never approved of his questionable or ruthless methods.

  The thought that she now was involved firsthand was unnerving.

  Holding her breath, she waited.

  Her father turned his gaze upon her. “Victoria is going to Ravenspear as his timid, obedient mistress. As far as he will know, she has every intention of keeping her promise of one year of servitude to save her family’s fate. But what the blackguard will never suspect is that Victoria will be spying for us and learning all there is to know about Ravenspear’s businesses and stock purchases. I will then use such information to procure a profit, pay off the bloody loans and then destroy him.”

  Jacob jumped to his feet. “But you promised Victoria to me. We are to be engaged.”

  Charles downed his brandy in one swallow and slammed the glass on the desk. “Don’t be a fool, Jacob. Ravenspear holds the notes on all our loans. If he chooses to call any of them in, it won’t only be me that’s headed to the poorhouse, but you as well.”

  Jacob paled. “I had not thought of that. Workhouse conditions are notoriously abominable.” He turned to look at her. “Victoria must go.”

  Victoria shook with impotent rage and fear. They cared nothing for her, only for themselves, willing to sacrifice her to avoid debtor’s prison. They were no better than Blake Mallorey himself.

  She sat forward, fingers curling around the chair’s arms, digging into the soft velvet material. “How do you expect me to spy on Lord Ravenspear? Do you honestly believe that he’ll allow me to roam his home and rummage through his sensitive business documents?”

  Charles arched an eyebrow at her tone. “As a matter of fact, I do. He’ll not suspect a woman capable of espionage.”

  “And you think me intelligent enough to sort through his papers and interpret which ones are important?”

  Charles chuckled. “Of course not, my dear. I wouldn’t dream of expecting a mere woman to understand even simple business affairs. But you can report conversations you overhear and steal specific documents.”

  Clenching her teeth, she was furious with his assumption regarding a woman’s intelligence. It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that her latest investments had been more successful than his.

  With great self-control, she kept her expression impassive. “How would I gain his confidence to get access to his papers?”

  “Ah, my dear. You hold more power over him than you think. He must desire you badly for him to demand you for an entire year.”

  She swallowed hard, trying not to reveal her anger. “He desires nothing but revenge…revenge against you.”

  “You’re wrong, Victoria,” her father said. “He could have easily destroyed me by calling in my loans. No, I’m certain he wants you. I realize in your innocence you may not recognize his intent, but we can undoubtedly use it to our advantage.”

  Victoria’s stomach churned in anxiety. Her own father spoke of crude male lust as a weapon for her to wield. The thought sickened her. She wanted to tell him that Blake vowed not to rape her, but sought to ruin her father by destroying the family name. Victoria remained silent, not trusting her own parent. She was still stunned that her father expected her to succumb to Blake’s demands and become his mistress. Now her father demanded she spy as well.

  Were all men such selfish, hedonistic creatures?

  She glanced at Jacob with the hope of finding some sort of protest against her father’s suggestions. But Jacob looked off in the distance, no doubt still contemplating his future in the workhouse should he be forced into servitude.

  “It’s the perfect opportunity for us to disarm Ravenspear,” Charles said. “You can weaken him with a mere smile, all the while gathering the information we need to pay off the loans. I’m sure you have no fond feelings toward the man?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “It’s settled, then,” Charles said. “Keep your eyes and ears open, Victoria. Jacob and I will do the rest.”

  The wheels of the coach rolled through another rut in the road, and Victoria bumped her head against the buffed leather interior.

  Blake had spared no expense, and had sent the opulent vehicle for her journey. She had been agog when the black-lacquered coach and team of six had stopped in front of her father’s town house. The large, impressive carriage was emblazoned with the Ravenspear crest. The matching team of horseflesh had stood obediently, and their sleek muscles had gleamed beneath the afternoon sun.

  When the footman had opened the door, Victoria ascended into the most magnificent coach she had ever traveled in. The interior was luxuriously padded with hunter green leather the identical color of the window shades and carpet.

  The road they traveled was in such disrepair that, without the comfort of the padded coach, she would have been black and blue by the time she arrived at her destination.

  When
the coachman informed her that she would be traveling not to Blake’s town house but to his country estate in Sussex, she was too surprised to do more than nod.

  She had been convinced that Blake would take her to his London town house on St. James Street for all of society to learn she had become his mistress. With the arrival of spring, the Season had just begun, and all the members of the ton had returned to London from the country.

  The scandal would have been instantaneous. The gossip would have destroyed her reputation overnight.

  But to her disbelief, she was on her way to his reclusive country manor, Rosewood, far away from such a fate.

  What plan was he hatching? Was he prolonging her humiliation until the height of the Season?

  Victoria raised the tasseled shade to gaze out the window of the swaying coach at the green countryside. The sun shone brightly, and she could feel the warmth on her face through the glass. It was a glorious day, in direct contrast to her black mood.

  Her father’s instructions echoed in her head.

  Sheath your shrewish tongue, Victoria. Act submissive, obedient. Gain his trust, then rummage through his papers and eavesdrop on his conversations. Jacob and I will contact you to obtain the information you gather.

  Could she do it? Spy on Blake with the specific intent to bankrupt him? Destroy him?

  Much as she tried to deny it, part of her childhood fascination remained. It was too easy to forget the past and imagine that Blake desired her presence at Rosewood out of love, not revenge.

  The memory of his kiss flooded back, heating her blood. She shook herself mentally, forcing herself to concentrate on the task she was ordered to accomplish.

  Would she be able to steal the information her father wanted?

  Blake hardly seemed like an amateur businessman who left sensitive documents lying around. Her father had no idea the extent of her knowledge when it came to stocks and the London Exchange.

  No doubt her experience would prove invaluable to Charles Ashton should she chose to use it for the sole purpose of espionage.