Scandalous Deception Page 11

  Confident the minx was suitably distracted, Edmond eased himself onto the bed, stretching out on the fine linen sheets beside her. His hands compulsively reached out to continue their voyage down the slender line of her body, smoothing the devilish nightgown out of his path and at last tossing it onto the floor. He needed to feel the satin heat of her skin, to drown in the glorious scent of lavender.

  Christ, she was so slender, so delicate beneath his fingers. And yet there was a heat in that tiny form that made his blood churn with excitement.

  “You are…perfect,” he muttered, his mouth skimming over her cheek and down her jaw before make a determined path to the rosy tips of her breasts.

  Brianna gasped as he drew one of the nipples between his lips, using his tongue to make her squirm in pleasure.

  “Dear heavens,” she yelped, her nails biting into his shoulders until they threatened to draw blood.

  “Shh, ma souris, you must be very, very quiet,” he chided, even as a flare of dark satisfaction raced through him.

  Whatever else this woman might feel toward him, she could not hide her delight in his touch.

  Returning his attention to the puckered nipple, Edmond laved it with exquisite care, savoring her soft cries as his hand moved along the curve of her hip and then over the slight swell of her stomach. Her muscles tensed beneath his questing touch, but she made no effort to halt his caress. Indeed, her hands shifted to plunge into his hair as her ragged breaths filled the shadowed chamber.

  Edmond needed no further encouragement. Shifting until he was pressed flush against the side of her body, he covered her lips in a fierce kiss, as his fingers slipped through the silken curls at the juncture of her legs and at last found the damp heat he sought.

  Her scream of astonishment would have wakened the dead if Edmond had not captured it with his mouth. Smiling against her lips, he slid his finger through the satin cleft, seeking the tiny jewel of her pleasure with his thumb.

  Stroking her with a slow, steady rhythm, Edmond pressed his aching erection against her thigh. He wanted to sheathe himself between her legs. He wanted his cock buried deep inside her when she found her release. But he had made a promise before ever entering Brianna’s bedchamber.

  Never again would she accuse him of desiring only his own satisfaction. After tonight, she would understand that the bliss to be found in this bed would be entirely mutual.

  Her body began to arch as she wound her arms around his neck. She whimpered softly against his lips, clearly caught in the throes of her rising climax.

  Quickening the stroke of his finger, Edmond growled low in his throat, pumping his arousal against her hip. Mon dieu. Who knew that stirring an innocent to orgasm could be so…erotic? He was intent on her pleasure, but the moment he felt her stiffen with release, he was overcome with his own orgasm that shook him to his very soul.

  Edmond continued to pleasure her, until her body at last melted against his with a lethargic satisfaction. Only then did he pull back to study the sated expression and the rather stunned green eyes.

  “That was…”

  “Just the beginning,” he finished with a wicked smile.

  DESPITE HIS LATE NIGHT, and the fact he had yet to deflower his beautiful fiancée, Edmond was in a surprisingly cheerful mood as he made his way down to the breakfast room the next morning.

  As expected, he found the pretty saffron and gold room empty except for the two towering footmen who stood at attendance near the long side table. Although Edmond had possessed less than half the staff that Stefan could claim, they were all well-trained and quite capable of keeping the household in perfect working order for at least a few weeks. They were also loyal to a fault, highly discreet and capable of dealing with any danger that might threaten.

  Moving to the side table, Edmond filled a plate with slices of the freshly cured ham, eggs, toast and marmalade before taking his seat at the head of the table. The footman moved to pour him the hot coffee he preferred to tea, then placed an ironed copy of The Morning Post next to his plate.

  With a grimace, he forced himself to skim through the paragraphs of the latest scandals and upcoming events. Although he had hired Chesterfield to keep an eye upon Howard Summerville, he intended to make sure that he soon crossed paths with his cousin. The announcement of his betrothal would be in the newspaper, but a sapskull like Howard could hardly be expected to actually read the thing. It would be Edmond’s duty to ensure that the man realized the Duke of Huntley was on the precipice of marriage.

  That surely would provoke a swift reaction.

  Only paying a brief attention to the various speculations of which hostess had provided the finest refreshments at their soirees and which debutante had been favored by the attentions of Lord Mallory, Edmond nearly overlooked the fleeting mention of a gentleman named Viktor Kazakov arriving in London and taking rooms at Pultney’s Hotel in Piccadilly.

  It was not unusual for a wealthy Russian nobleman to visit London. Or even for that nobleman to choose to stay at a hotel rather than accept the King’s hospitality. But Edmond was well aware that Alexander Pavlovich had ordered Viktor to Siberia after he had been overheard raising a toast to the imminent death of the Czar.

  Under questioning, Kazakov had desperately claimed he was drunk and merely jesting, but Alexander had no tolerance for seeds of discontent among his Court. Kazakov had been banished to Siberia under the watch of Alexander Pavlovich’s own Foot Guard.

  So how did he slip unnoticed from Siberia? Edmond wondered, and what the devil was he doing in London?

  Knowing this was yet another distraction that he did not need, Edmond could not resist calling for pen and paper so he could scribble a swift note to the Russian ambassador.

  He had just dispatched one of the footmen with the missive when the door to the breakfast room was pressed open and Lady Aberlane tottered into the room.

  Swiftly rising to his feet, Edmond smiled wryly as the elder woman crossed the floor, only occasionally remembering to use her ebony cane as she smiled at him with obvious delight.

  “Good morning, my dear.” She came to a halt at his side, waiting until he had bent downward so she could plant a kiss on his cheek before taking the seat he held out for her.

  “Good morning, Aunt Letty.” Ensuring she was settled, Edmond nodded toward the footman who began filling a plate with an assortment of food, then took his own seat. “I hope that you have been made comfortable?”

  “Oh, quite comfortable. It is always such a pleasure to be invited to Huntley House.” She smiled as the footman set the plate on the table in front of her, then with that fluttering charm she abused with ruthless efficiency, she gently cleared her throat. “That will be all for now, you may leave us.”

  The servant waited for Edmond’s grudging nod before giving a deep bow and leaving the room. Once alone, Edmond regarded his relative with a wary unease.

  As Brianna had pointed out last eve, his Aunt Letty was not only annoyingly intelligent, but perceptive as well. He did not doubt that he would have to reveal at least a portion of the truth to ease her suspicions.

  “Now then.” The elder woman studied him with that dark, piercing gaze. “Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me why you are pretending to be Stefan, and why in heaven’s name you are risking Brianna’s reputation by announcing this ridiculous engagement?”

  Edmond gave a short laugh. Perceptive, indeed. And quite prepared to speak her mind.

  Pushing aside his empty plate, Edmond gave a small shrug. “It was to save Brianna’s reputation that I announced the ridiculous engagement. She could hardly remain beneath my roof, or rather Stefan’s roof, without the protection of an impending marriage.”

  Lady Aberlane glanced toward the delicately carved and scrolled ceiling above them. “And a lovely one it is, but why is she beneath your roof at all? Does she not reside with her stepfather?”

  Edmond’s expression hardened as he gave a brief, clipped explanation of Thomas Wade and his nef
arious attempt to force Brianna to Norfolk. His aunt listened in silence, her lips thinning with utter disgust as Edmond revealed Wade’s intrusion into the town house and Edmond’s belief that he would continue to be a threat so long as he remained obsessed with Brianna.

  “Poor child,” his aunt muttered, shaking her head. “I always suspected that nasty man was not to be trusted with such a beautiful young woman.” She abruptly banged her cane on the Aubusson carpet. “Whatever was Fredrick thinking? He must have known better than to leave his daughter in the care of Sylvia. She was never fit to be a mother.”

  Edmond grimaced at the memory of the beautiful, temperamental woman who had made no pretense of her lack of motherly affection. It was little wonder that Brianna had so often slipped from her lonely house to visit Meadowland.

  “You will get no argument from me,” he muttered, oddly annoyed that Sylvia was dead and out of the reach of his punishment. “But you need not fear Thomas Wade troubling Brianna any further. I intend to deal with him when the appropriate moment presents itself.”

  She sent him a stern glance at the unmistakable edge of lethal intent in his voice.

  “You do not plan anything foolish, do you, Edmond?”

  “I am rarely foolish, Aunt Letty.”

  “No, that is true enough.” There was a silence as the woman studied him with that disquieting gaze. At last, she heaved a small sigh and nodded her head, as if accepting that Thomas Wade deserved his inevitable fate. “Well, I must say that I am pleased you have taken Brianna away from that horrid creature, but I do not understand why you insisted on keeping her here. You know you could have sent her to me, or better yet, to Meadowland.”

  He shrugged, surprised by the dark flare of anger at the mere mention of Brianna being taken from his custody.

  “I will merely say that her presence was an unexpected windfall that I was swift to use to my best advantage.”

  Letty blinked at his clipped, unapologetic explanation. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “That I cannot tell you. Nor can I reveal why I am here under the guise of Stefan.” His expression was grim. “All I can say is that Stefan is in danger and I will protect him. No matter what I have to do or who I have to use to accomplish my goal.”

  There was none of the vague fluttering as the elder woman leaned forward with a worried frown.

  “Stefan in danger?”

  “Yes, I fear so.”

  She clicked her tongue. “Well, of course, you must do whatever necessary. And you know that you need only ask, if I can do anything to assist you.”

  Edmond smiled, knowing that his aunt’s promise was not just empty words. Not only was her position as Lady Aberlane highly respected among society, but her late husband had been a skilled politician who could claim the friendship of the most powerful gentlemen in the world.

  “Thank you.” He reached out to give her tiny hand a squeeze of gratitude. “I shall keep your offer in mind.”

  The dark eyes narrowed, clearly accepting his need to protect Stefan, and yet not entirely satisfied with his treatment of his young fiancée.

  “I do hope, my dearest Edmond, that you realize Brianna Quinn is not the hardened, sophisticated sort of female you are used to keeping company with.” She tapped a gnarled finger on the table. “She could be very easily hurt.”

  Edmond abruptly rose to his feet. He might have need of Lady Aberlane’s presence, but that did not mean he intended to be lectured as if he were fresh from the nursery.

  “It is not my intention to harm her,” he said, the words clipped.

  “Not your intention, perhaps, but…”

  “I fear that I cannot linger this morning, I have several appointments today. If you would be so kind, I would appreciate you accompanying Brianna to the modiste today. I am certain you must know which are favored by the most fashionable young ladies of society.”

  “Do you intend to take Brianna out in society?”

  Edmond looked down at Lady Aberlane, a smile playing on his lips. “It would appear odd if we did not attend at least a few functions, do you not think? Thankfully, Stefan’s notorious distaste for London society will allow us to keep them limited.”

  Her lips thinned. “And what do you intend to do with Brianna once this danger to Stefan has passed? Will you send her to Meadowland where she belongs?”

  “And why the devil would you think she belongs there?” he snapped, before he could halt the words.

  “Stefan is her guardian.”

  “Then he should have done his duty and kept her out of the clutches of Thomas Wade.”

  Something that was strangely close to satisfaction glittered in Lady Aberlane’s dark eyes.

  “As you have done?”

  “As I have done.” Edmond offered a stiff bow. “Good day.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS, Brianna was fitted for the obscene number of gowns that Lady Aberlane insisted were necessary for the future Duchess of Huntley.

  Morning gowns that were composed of jaconet muslin, as well as figured silks that were trimmed with lace and braid and ornamental satin flowers. Walking gowns with matching spencers and ermine-lined cloaks. There was a carriage gown in a ruby velvet and deliciously warm muff, not to mention an evening gown in a rich brown with gold buckles and a striped rose silk with a border of double tulle.

  And, of course, no wardrobe would be complete without the exquisite satin ball gowns that cost enough to make Brianna’s head spin.

  Not since her father’s untimely death had Brianna possessed such a profusion of elegant, sophisticated dresses.

  It was not that her mother wished to keep Brianna in rags, but Sylvia had rarely realized that her daughter might be in need of a new wardrobe, and when she did, she preferred to have her own castoff dresses altered. The precious pin money she received from Thomas was needed to pay her gambling debts.

  More than once, Brianna wondered if she should perhaps feel guilty at spending Edmond’s fortune with such reckless disregard. Granted he was the one who was forcing her into this charade of an engagement, but she had thrust her way into this house.

  Such thoughts, however, were easily dismissed as she slowly realized that for the first time in over a year, she felt…almost happy.

  Of course, if she were being perfectly honest, she would acknowledge that it was not the pretty gowns and shawls and feathered bonnets that brought a small smile to her lips as she sat at her dressing table and allowed Janet to fuss with her hair.

  No, it was the slow, undeniable easing of the brutal grip of fear that had held her captive since her mother’s death. For the first time, Thomas Wade could not reach her. Not so long as she was safely hidden in the vast town house.

  Despite the smaller staff, the London mansion was nothing less than a fortress. And since she was not allowed out the door without the hulking presence of Boris, she never had to worry about enjoying her shopping expeditions throughout London. Her stepfather was a fool, but not even he was stupid enough to dare an attempted kidnapping while she was under the constant eye of the ominous guard.

  Then, there was Lady Aberlane’s pleasurable company. Who would not be distracted from their troubles by the woman’s charming prattle? It had been so long since Brianna had enjoyed the company of anyone beyond her faithful maid that it was a genuine joy to simply listen to the latest gossip over a cup of tea.

  All quite reasonable explanations for her budding sense of comfort, but deep inside, she could not shake the sensation that it was directly connected to Edmond Summerville.

  Ridiculous, of course. She had barely caught sight of the aggravating man over the past few days.

  And yet, at the oddest moments she would recall Edmond as he hauled the bleating Thomas from his home, or when he flatly refused to allow her to leave the town house without Boris at her side, or holding her tightly in his arms as she shivered with her first taste of passion….

  Brianna brought a sharp halt to her wayward t
houghts. It had been three nights since she had tasted of Edmond’s practiced seduction. Three nights of dwelling incessantly on the astonishing sensation of his fingers touching her with such intimate skill, of recalling the explosion of pleasure that had left her weak and shaken long after he had retreated through the secret door.

  Tonight would be her first to brave London society. She would need her wits firmly about her if it were not to end in disaster.

  “There, now,” Janet murmured, stepping to the side to admire Brianna’s hair, coiled into an intricate knot atop her head with tiny curls brushing against her temple. “Perfect.”

  “Hardly perfect, but it is a beautiful gown.” Rising to her feet, Brianna smoothed her hands down the white lace gown worn over an Indigo-blue sarsnet slip. The bodice was cut far lower than any she had worn before, with full, puffed sleeves set well off her shoulders. At the hem were tiny satin roses matching those threaded through her auburn curls. “Lady Aberlane possesses exquisite taste.”

  “’Tis not the dress that will be attracting the attention of the ton, no matter how fine it might be.”

  “That is true enough, Janet. There will not be a soul in all of London who is not avid to catch a glimpse of the Duke of Huntley’s fiancée. I shall feel like an animal in the Royal menagerie.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Let us hope that I shall not do anything to embarrass poor Stefan.”

  Janet snorted as she studied Brianna with her hands on her full hips. “I meant that ye have never been more beautiful. As lovely as a vision.”

  “A vision, indeed,” a dark voice murmured from the doorway.

  With a squeak of surprise, Brianna whirled as Edmond calmly entered her private chamber.

  She wanted to believe it was surprise that was causing her heart to leap and her body to tingle with a rash of excitement, but surprise could not explain why her gaze lingered on his tall form, which was shown to magnificent advantage by the white knee breeches and fitted black jacket that had been matched with a silver waistcoat. Or why her fingers yearned to run a path through the satin darkness of his hair. Or why she was wishing that he had entered her bedchambers for something other than escorting her to a soiree.