Scandalous by Night Read online

  Solitea laughed, shaking his head. “Since when have you become an expert on the workings of a lady’s mind?”

  “I never claimed to be,” Cadd retorted, stepping away from the window to join them. “What man can breach such a thorny citadel? However, I have had the sincere pleasure of observing you pathetic rogues bumble your way to wedded bliss.”

  “Needless to say, both Cadd and I have been extremely amused by your errors and confusion,” Everod cheerfully added as he glanced over his shoulder and saluted Cadd with his glass of brandy.

  “And let us not forget the substantial profits gained.” Cadd clinked his glass against Everod’s, and winked.

  “When will the pair of you learn that I despise having my personal business reduced to petty wagers?” Solitea nodded at Ramscar. “What say you, Ram? Should we take them into the gardens and thrash some sense into these scoundrels?”

  Ramscar sighed wearily as he rose from his haunches. “It hasn’t done us much good in the past. However, if you are looking for a fair fight, I am willing.”

  Although he was shorter, Ramscar’s skill with weapons was renowned. Only a fool would believe he was getting a fair fight when the earl was his opponent. “While the notion of seeing Cadd’s pretty face pummeled sounds tempting,” Everod drawled, his steady gaze studying Solitea’s mildly inquisitive expression, “I think we should first discuss the actual reason we were summoned for supper this evening.”

  “Everod, what the devil are you blathering about?” Cadd demanded. He grabbed the full decanter of brandy on the table and began refilling everyone’s glasses.

  “Call it instinct, but something is afoot, my friend.” Everod carelessly gestured at Solitea. “He and his lady have been exchanging somber looks all evening.”

  The marquess brushed back the dark brown lock of hair that obscured his vision. “Solitea probably angered his duchess. So how long has it been since she allowed you into her bed?”

  “Who says I need a bed to please my lady?” Solitea fired back, though it was obvious he was enjoying the banter.

  “I doubt your duchess would be pleased if she knew of this discussion,” Ramscar, always the bloody peacemaker, quietly reminded them.

  “Really, Cadd. How very provincial of you!” Everod taunted for good measure. The twenty-five-year-old marquess was so easily provoked. “When you find a lady who can tolerate you, I will show you how to pleasure her properly.”

  “Condescending arse!” Cadd muttered under his breath. “I’ve noticed your lovers never linger after they’ve endured your clumsy fumbles.”

  Everod jumped to his feet, and gave his friend a cocky grin. “They stay long enough for me to satisfy both our needs. And what of your bawdy adventures, my friend? Pray tell us, when was the last time you had a soft, willing female beneath you? Or are males your preference these days?”

  From Cadd’s outraged expression, Everod knew he had pushed his friend beyond the limit. Before he could apologize, the marquess shoved him backward, sending him crashing into a table. The four legs of the delicate table exploded with the burden of Everod’s weight.

  “Enough!” Ramscar roared, and charged at both struggling men. Cadd landed a blow to Everod’s gut before Solitea dragged the man away.

  “A bit tardy, old man,” Everod said, wincing slightly as he tested the tenderness of his stomach with his fingers.

  Shaking his head with disgust, Ramscar offered Everod his hand. “Baiting Cadd will not get you the answers you seek.”

  “True. However, waiting for you and Solitea to come to the point was just getting tiresome.” Everod grimaced as he straightened his spine. He glanced derisively at the table, which had splintered into expensive kindling. “It appears I owe you a new table.”

  “And me, a damn apology,” Cadd interjected. He shook off Solitea’s firm grip.

  “It is unimportant,” the earl assured Everod. Crossing his arms, he looked from one man to the other. “Have both of you finished?”

  Everod was tempted to deliver a sarcastic response, but he heeded Solitea’s silent warning and held his tongue. Cadd was still riled, but he remained silent. That did not prevent him from taking every opportunity to glare at him. They had been friends since they were young boys, and the occasional bloodied nose or bruised pride was their equivalent of affection. In truth, he loved the marquess like a brother. Once his temper waned, all would be forgiven until their next scuffle.

  “After dealing with you jackanapes, raising the Carlisle heir should be as simple as breathing,” Solitea said. He bent down and retrieved Cadd’s glass from the floor and placed it beside the decanter.

  “If I recall, your mother described you as a devilish handful,” Everod said, settling back down onto the sofa. “The old duke was so proud.”

  “Speaking of family …” Ramscar said, giving Solitea a meaningful stare.

  Everod closed his eyes and muttered a silent oath. The rumors about Lord and Lady Worrington’s arrival in town had already reached his friends’ ears. “I would rather not. The subject is tedious at best.”

  “Bloody hell, old Worrington is in town, isn’t he?” Cadd guessed, his tone ripe with disgust as his loyalty to Everod eclipsed his ire.

  “Yes. My mother encountered Lord and Lady Worrington at a soiree, and considering the bad blood between you and your father, she thought you should be warned.” Solitea studied Everod’s face. “You already knew.”

  “Solitea, please pass along my gratitude to your mother,” Everod said mildly. “Do you think she would accept a small gift as a token of my appreciation?”

  The duke grimaced. “Invariably. However, a note will suffice. Sending the duchess gifts will only encourage the lady to meddle in your life.”

  “Or create a situation in which Solitea will be forced to murder you,” Ramscar muttered from behind him.

  Even before the death of her beloved duke, the dowager duchess was renowned for taking lovers twenty years her junior. Everod had also garnered a certain reputation for seducing any lady who crossed his path. Although he thought the dowager duchess was a charming and beautiful woman, Everod knew he would be risking his life if he courted anything more than maternal concern from Solitea’s mother.

  “You worry for naught, Ram.” Everod tipped his head back so he could glance at him with one eye. “Truth be told, I am too old for the duchess.”

  Solitea cleared his throat. “I do not want to hear any more speculation about my mother’s preference in male companions,” the duke ordered tersely. Despite his rakish ways, Solitea had feelings toward his mother that could be downright traditional. “We were discussing the Worringtons.”

  Everod finished off his brandy with a hearty swallow. “You were, Solitea, not I. What Worrington does while in town is his business as long as he stays out of mine.” He slammed his glass on the side table and leaned forward to rise from the sofa.

  Cadd snorted. “Rather charitable of you, Everod, since the old man did his best to sever your head from your throat.”

  If Everod thought about it, he could still recall the moment when his father’s blade bit into the tender flesh of his neck, the warm spray of his blood as it coated his face and chest, and his life measured in heartbeats until the damage could be repaired. He never spoke to anyone about those long hours when terror and pain dominated his thoughts those first days after his father’s attack when he was certain he would die.

  His mocking expression did not betray his darker thoughts. “Well, I didn’t say I was intending to kiss the man! If Worrington has any sense, he should know that twelve years has made me a little wiser, and a thousand times meaner.”

  Last time, guilt and shame had stayed Everod’s hand. He had deserved his father’s anger. What Everod could never forgive was the fact that Worrington believed his wife’s lies about his elder son. He had aligned himself with that treacherous whore, while Everod had been banished and forgotten.

  Well, mayhap not forgotten entirely.


  If his informants were correct, Miss Maura Keighly was currently residing in Worrington’s town house. Everod wondered if she thought of him on occasion.

  He had not forgotten her.

  Solitea stirred from his perch, obviously not satisfied with Everod’s response. “My friend, the man is your father. Perhaps his arrival heralds a chance for you and Worrington to heal old wounds.”

  Everod idly rubbed part of the scarring near his left ear. “Some wounds never fully heal.” He held up a silencing hand before the duke could argue. “Regardless, I have no intention of provoking a confrontation with my father, so the three of you can stop looking so worried. I have no interest in gaining Worrington’s favor, and his title and wealth will be mine with patience.”

  Of course, Maura Keighly was not family.

  Lost in thought, Everod stared into the bottom of his empty glass. Maura had been a mere girl when he had been forcibly escorted from Worrington Hall and banished forever. A beautiful child, it was reasonable to assume Maura had grown into an alluring woman.

  Like Georgette.

  The bitter thought hardened Everod’s resolve.

  He had been used by one beautiful bitch and callously discarded. He would not allow his memories of a child with sea-gray eyes to soften him. Why not use Maura Keighly to exact his revenge? It would be the last ploy Georgette would anticipate. While the lady fretted about his presence in London, Everod would be giving her precious niece the thorough fucking she deserved for the lies she had uttered to protect her aunt. There was a sweet symmetry to his plan.

  Everod tapped his knuckle against the glass in anticipation.

  There was no reason to limit his revenge to one night of seduction. He could spend weeks sating his lust and his revenge within her tight, willing body.

  He possessed the skill to ensure that she enjoyed it.

  It might be entertaining to seduce Maura Keighly so utterly that she was a willing accomplice in her own downfall.

  Chapter Three

  April 4, 1811, London

  “I am having second thoughts about the pink trim on the bonnet,” Georgette said to Maura as they stood near their carriage, already overburdened with the purchases they had made their first afternoon in London. “Pink was never a color I favored overly much. I think the light green would be a better choice.”

  Maura softly groaned. They had patronized every shop on Bond Street, and frankly, she was exhausted. She was hungry, and her feet ached. In contrast, her aunt seemed to be invigorated by the bustling activity around her. As long as Worrington’s credit was good, Georgette had the stamina to spend his wealth.

  “If you are undecided, Aunt, why not order both colors? After all, I heard the earl tell you that he wanted you to be happy,” Maura reminded the countess.

  “Why not? And if the pink does not please me, then I shall give it to you,” Georgette said, pleased that the matter was so easily settled. “Come along.”

  “No,” Maura said sharply, causing her aunt to give her a measured stare. “If you do not mind, I would like to continue up the street. There was a bookseller …”

  Georgette grimaced, and held a hand up in surrender. “Say no more.” Her aunt was a lady who chose to participate in adventures, instead of reading about them in an old dusty tome. “I bring you to London, and you want to look at books. Heavens, you are more like your insipid mother than you might believe.”

  The casual insult was delivered with such keen precision that Maura did not feel the sting of it until Georgette had moved on to other matters.

  “Off with you.” Her aunt adjusted her parasol to keep the sunlight from tanning her face. “I will return to the shop and place my order for the green bonnet while you peruse the bookseller’s stalls. We will meet again at the carriage.”

  Maura watched as a footman chased after his mistress. Shrugging elegantly at her aunt’s dismissal, she pivoted and strolled away in the opposite direction. The walkway was crowded with pedestrians, a mix of the fashionable and those who were plying their trade. Street vendors sang out while the sounds of horses and their equipage rattled and clanged as the traffic rumbled down the street.

  Maura had been to London before with her parents. They had presented their papers to the scientific peers and given lectures to the intellectual elite over the years. Polite society, however, was deemed unimportant so Lord and Lady Courtwill rarely visited London during the height of the social season.

  Approaching one of the tables placed just outside the door of the bookseller’s shop, Maura nodded to the young gentleman who was clearly guarding the books stacked on the table. She picked up a thin green tome and frowned at the worn stitching on the spine. Maura set the book down, and inspected several others. Most of the books were damaged. It was apparent the bookseller had purchased the inferior contents of a gentleman’s library, and was attempting to recoup his losses. Giving up on the outdoor tables, Maura stepped inside the shop in the hopes of purchasing a book worthy of its price.

  Caught up in her inspection of the discounted books, she had not sensed that her actions were being scrutinized from afar. When Maura walked into the bookseller’s shop, Everod agilely dodged the street traffic crossing his path, and with cool determination, he followed her inside.

  So the rumors were true, after all. She dared to enter his town.

  Although twelve years had passed, Everod would have recognized Maura Keighly even if she had not been standing next to his cunning stepmother. The engaging girl who had become entangled in his nightmares had bloomed into a striking young lady.

  Everod smiled at his good fortune.

  Bedding this traitorous beauty would be no hardship. If a man could make a list of his perfect female, Maura Keighly physically met all of his requirements. Her pale oval face with its defined cheekbones and straight nose were balanced with expressive sea-gray eyes and ruby lips ripe for kissing.

  Over the years, her lanky girlish frame had elongated, and Maura had matured into a dominating height of femininity. His hungry gaze mentally stripped away her cumbersome skirts and it was simple for him to imagine the long, firm legs hidden from him like a wrapped present. He almost groaned out loud at the thought of her legs constricting him as he shoved his cock into her. His six-feet-and-three-inch unyielding frame of bone and muscle usually overwhelmed most of his lovers. Maura could handle him. Everod would not have to be gentle with her.

  Christ, his body was already humming in anticipation. Just the thought of placing his bare hands on the gentle curves of her hips and hauling her soft buttocks against him was making him edgy. Everod slowed his gait as he tried to control his visceral response to Maura. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and he had not even introduced himself!

  Completely unaware of his lustful perusal, she smiled absently at two gentlemen before she moved past them to scrutinize a wall of books. The two young bucks nudged and murmured to each other, both willing to play flirtatious games with the pretty stranger. Everod felt a surge of triumph as Maura’s disinterest doused their lustful hopes.

  The lady is mine, gents!

  Disappointed, the two gentlemen walked out the door.

  Presented with her back, Everod admired her willowy frame. She was tall for a female. He imagined the top of her head would reach his collarbone.

  Murmuring something unintelligible, Maura glided to the right as he moved in closer. She was attired in a plain cambric morning dress with a short train that consisted of three rows of ruffles. A mantle of French gray satin was fastened to her right shoulder with some sort of brooch. A white unbleached al fresco chip hat obscured her face and dark hair as she reached up on her tiptoes and removed a book from the shelf.

  Everod wondered if Maura ever thought of him, and the vital role she had played in his banishment from the family. Over the years, he had made a point of keeping track of his family and Maura Keighly’s summer visits to Worrington Hall. With indifferent parents, the lady had developed a loving relati
onship with her aunt. A self-proclaimed cynic, Everod believed the scheming Lady Worrington and her niece were not finished with the Lidsaw men. Seeing them together, he viewed them as formidable enemies, but now they were in his domain.

  He knew, almost to the day, when his father was planning to bring the family and Maura Keighly to London for the season. The earl might have dismissed his elder son; however, Everod had spies in the Worrington household. He had been quietly collecting information about his family for years.

  Twelve years ago, his clash with his stepmother and Maura Keighly had been on their terms. Everod was older, wiser in some ways, and he had learned how to handle ambitious ladies who were willing to whore themselves to get what they wanted. Unbeknownst to Maura, any games between them would be played by his rules.

  Perhaps it was time to let Maura know her diminutive place in his world. Moving stealthily up from behind, Everod peered over Maura’s shoulder to glimpse the tome that seemed to captivate her. Reading a few lines of text, he bent down and whispered into her ear, “Still the romantic, I see. I would have assumed Georgette would have snuffed such a whimsical inclination.”

  Startled by the gentleman’s unsettling proximity, Maura snapped the book shut and whirled away from the masculine lips that had casually brushed the outer scroll of her ear. She backed up and belatedly realized that there was no escape. With the book clutched like a shield to her breast, Maura sputtered several syllables of unintelligible outrage. It was only when she dared to meet the stranger’s gaze that she realized the gentleman was not unfamiliar to her.

  And he knew Georgette.

  Everod.

  Oh God. Was it truly him? Maura was so shaken by his presence that she unconsciously reached out and touched his arm. The solid muscle of his forearm jerked under her fingers as if the brazen contact had startled the viscount, too. Their eyes met, but she was the first to look away.