A Winter Scandal (11 page)

Thea knew it was mad to be doing what they were. They were in the middle of the house in the middle of the day. She should pull away; she should be indignant, insulted. She should probably slap his impertinent face. But she could not bring herself to do what she should. She wanted only to taste more, feel more. She relished the surge of heat within her, the unaccustomed throbbing that started between her legs, the tightening of her nipples into small, hard points. Last night, when he’d kissed her, she had thought the feelings that had blossomed inside her must be the peak of desire, the height of sensation. But now, with every movement of his hands, each deepening of his kiss, the pleasure grew, her own hunger pulling her in further so that she wanted even more. Thea sensed that there must be still more awaiting her along this path. Gabriel, she was suddenly sure, could lead her beyond anything she had ever known, and she wanted, with a deep, physical ache, to let him take her there.

At that moment, the baby’s wail arose from the sitting room.

With a gasp, Thea broke away from Gabriel. She stared at him, the full realization of what had just happened dawning in her eyes. Her fingertips came up to press against her full, damp lips, her eyes huge above her hand. He gazed back at her without a word, his chest rising and falling in quick pants. Gabriel took a step forward, one hand going out to her, and Thea whirled and ran for the sitting room.

She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, trying to regain her senses as well as her breath. What had she done? What had she been thinking? Her face flooded with color as she recalled how wantonly she had responded to him—not just now but last night as well. He would be justified in believing her a hussy. Thea had never considered that she might have such loose, immoral behavior in her. She had never been silly over men or indulged in daydreaming about courtship and marriage. She had always considered herself practical and unromantic, the last sort of woman to feel the pull of desire.

But she could scarcely deny that her blood was running like a fever in her right now. Nor could she ignore the hot, empty ache deep within her that made her squeeze her legs together tightly in the vain hope that it would disappear. Clearly she was just as vulnerable to temptation as anyone else. And just as clearly, she would have to guard against it. Just as she would have to guard herself against Gabriel Morecombe.

Matthew’s cries had not ended, and Thea pushed away from the door and went to pick him up. She held him to her, murmuring softly and patting him on the back, and his squalls diminished, then, after a final little hiccuping sob, stopped altogether. She looked down into his face and smiled. His wet lashes were stuck together into points like stars around his bright blue eyes. How, she wondered, could he look so utterly beautiful after crying like that?

She leaned her head against his, forehead to forehead, and he giggled, which meant that she had to do it several more times, and with each repetition, his giggles erupted into greater and greater laughter. If only she could stay in here playing with Matthew, she thought, and never have to go out to face Lord Morecombe. But obviously that would be impossible. She wasn’t sure how she could face the man after the way she had just acted. Of course, last night she had felt the same way—was it always going to be this way around Gabriel Morecombe?—but eventually she had recovered enough to act normally. The happy thought occurred to her that he might just leave if she stayed in here long enough, but right after that the door opened and Gabriel stepped into the room.

“Do you always just walk into closed rooms wherever you find yourself?” she asked him crossly, grateful at least that her annoyance overcame her embarrassment.

“Only if I wish to see what’s behind them,” he answered imperturbably. His eyes went to the baby in her arms, and he smiled. “Well, Master Matthew, you seem to have changed your tune.”

Matthew began to thrash his arms and gurgle in the way that meant he was happy, and he held out his hands to Morecombe in clear invitation.

“Traitor,” Thea breathed, and walked over to hand him to Morecombe. She had no desire to meet Gabriel’s eyes, but she made herself do it. She refused to be a coward.

“I don’t pretend to know why you have decided to—to act in this way.”

“In what way?” He looked puzzled.

She shot him a quelling look. “Please, my lord, I think we both know what occurred in the entry. There is no need to spell it out.”

“Ah. What happened in the entry. I see. You want an explanation?”

“No! There is no need for that. But I must point out that you seem to have acquired a very incorrect notion about me and my … my standards of conduct.”

The baby was squirming in his arms, and Morecombe lowered him to the floor, then turned back to Thea. “Indeed, Miss Bainbridge? And what notion is that?”

She glared at him. “That I would be open to—to your advances.”

Again that engaging little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I believe you
were
open to my advances … at least a bit.”

“My lord, I am not a woman of easy virtue. Doubtless you are so accustomed to being with such women that you do not realize the difference.”

“I never thought you a woman of easy virtue. Indeed, I suspect that your virtue is as hard as Cotswold stone. That does not mean I can’t choose to chip away at it.”

“This is not a laughing matter!” Thea’s temper flared. “My reputation may mean nothing to you, but it is very important to me.”

“Your reputation means a great deal to me, I assure you. I would never try to damage it, my dear—may I call you Althea?
Miss Bainbridge
seems a bit formal for two who have shared as much as we.”

“No. You may not.”

“You see? Hard as stone.”

“While you may not
try
to damage my reputation, you certainly have no care for it. A true gentleman would not go about stealing kisses.”

“Stealing? Seems fair payment for hanging the ornament, wouldn’t you say?”

“One does not pay for a favor. That is not the issue, anyway.”

“What is the issue? I thought we were talking about kisses.”

“We are! Or rather, we are talking about the fact that you acted in a way that was not only improper but quite reckless. It is the middle of the day, and we were standing in our entry!”

“Ah, I see. You prefer your kisses at night and in some more secret place.” He smiled, his eyes lighting. “Believe me, I shall be happy to oblige.”

“No!” The scraps of composure Thea had pulled together were rapidly slipping away. The merry gleam in his eyes, the tempting curve of his mouth, the sheer enjoyment that stamped his face, all beckoned her. She was aware of a rather frightening impulse to forget her upbringing and throw herself back into his arms. But that would be sheer madness. “I am not saying you should kiss me at some other time and place. I am saying you should not kiss me at all!”

“I don’t see why I would agree to do that. I quite enjoyed kissing you.”

“Anyone could have walked in on us at any moment! My brother. Mrs. Brewster. Sally.”

“I passed your brother on the street as I came over, so I knew he was not here. I could hear Mrs. Brewster in the kitchen. And I haven’t the slightest idea who Sally is or why I should worry about her.”

“She is the girl who comes in to help Mrs. Brewster, and she could have walked in on us.”

“But she did not.”

“That isn’t the point!” She looked down and found that the baby had managed to roll and squirm his way over to the footstool. “How in the world did you get over there? No, dear, don’t chew on the fringe.” Thea swooped down and picked Matthew up, relocating him on the rug a few feet away. Turning back to face Gabriel, she straightened her shoulders. Putting some distance between them helped, she found. “Never mind. I can see that it is useless to try to reason with you.”

“No doubt.”

Thea clasped her hands together and adopted a polite expression. “Now. What brings you here today? I presume you had some reason for calling.”

“Other than kissing you?”

“Lord Morecombe!” She gritted her teeth. The man was impossible. And it was difficult not to laugh.

“I apologize. I could not resist; I enjoy the sparkle in your eyes when you get in a temper.”

Thea crossed her arms and waited, her expression grimly patient.

“Very well. I came to ask for your help.”

Thea’s brows shot up. “My help? In what way.”

“I considered what you said, and I cannot deny that you have a point. I must employ a nursemaid for Matthew and acquire some other female servants as well. But I haven’t the slightest idea where to begin, and the butler is someone I hired in London, so he has little knowledge of the area, either. It occurred to me that someone who had grown up in the village, who knew everyone, and who was, as well, a pillar of rectitude and morality would be the perfect person to help me in such an endeavor.”

“Are you asking me to hire servants for you?”

“Well, I would hire them, obviously. But your advice on who might be a likely candidate would be a great help. And if you were to perhaps join me in interviewing said candidates, I would be most grateful. Also, and perhaps more important, I need to discover whether anyone in the village might have seen or even spoken with whoever left young Matthew in the church. Who could be more valuable in that regard than the vicar’s sister, the woman who clearly hears all the latest gossip?”

“Oh. Well.” Only an hour ago she had been wishing she knew what Lord Morecombe was doing to find Matthew’s mother, and now here he was, offering to include her in it. She could not suppress the grin now. “I suppose we could ask Mrs. Brewster who might be available to act as a nursemaid. My knowledge of the village pales by comparison with Mrs. Brewster’s, I assure you.”

“Excellent.” Gabriel smiled back at her, his eyes warm with approval, and Thea could not help but wonder how many other women had hastened to do as he asked, just to win that smile again.

She did not plan to be one of them, Thea told herself firmly as she turned and whisked Matthew up from the floor. It was her own curiosity and her desire to help the baby that drove her to join Lord Morecombe in his search, not any hope of pleasing Morecombe.

They found Mrs. Brewster in the kitchen, beating egg whites in a bowl. She pursed her mouth thoughtfully as she whipped the whisk through the whites, pausing to inspect the foam, then launching into another attack as she talked. “Well, there’s Maggie Cooper; her youngest is old enough that her oldest girl could take care of him, but she wouldn’t do if you’re wanting to have her stay through the night.”

“I would prefer that,” Lord Morecombe told her.

Mrs. Brewster eyed him for a moment before saying carefully, “Are you talking ’bout taking the little one to your house, then?”

Humor lit Gabriel’s eyes. “I assure you, I intend to make the place fit for female servants. Miss Bainbridge has informed me already that my household is generally regarded as a den of iniquity.”

“And until such time as the Priory is suitable,” Thea added, “the baby and his nursemaid will stay here. She can sleep in the extra bedroom at the end of the hall.”

The housekeeper nodded. “Lolly Havers might do.”

“Ned Havers’s girl?” Thea asked. “Why, she’s not even eighteen yet.”

“Aye. But she’s looked after the younger ones most her life. And I reckon as she’d be glad to have a room of her own and make a mite of money for minding the one baby.”

Thea nodded. “True. And she does seem to have a level head for a girl her age.”

It was soon arranged that Mrs. Brewster would send for the girl while Lord Morecombe and Thea started their search for the missing mother. Leaving Matthew in the housekeeper’s care, Thea and Gabriel set out. The day was crisp, but the sun was shining down weakly, and it was, Thea thought, a beautiful day. She glanced up at the man beside her. She wondered what he was thinking, how his mind worked. He was completely foreign to her, unlike any of the other men she knew. Did he find her hopelessly provincial and naïve? Thea could well imagine the sort of sophisticated, beautiful women he must be acquainted with. They would know how to flirt and bedazzle him—not that she was interested in doing those things, but still, it must be nice to know
how
. The ladies he was used to would have gone to plays and operas and seen all sorts of places that Thea could only dream about. Glittering with jewels, dressed in the finest silks instead of a serviceable wool walking dress, such women would know all the latest on-dits and be able to discuss the events of the city.

What did she know? How Mrs. Gathers’s daughter-in-law was recovering from her bout with catarrh or how many years it had been since old Mr. Adams had graced the church with his presence because he and Thea’s father had had a falling-out over a certain Sunday sermon? Oh, and books; Thea had consumed a number of them over the years. But somehow she suspected that Lord Morecombe was not a bookish man.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Morecombe turned his head and raised his eyebrows quizzically. “What? You look as if you are contemplating very deep thoughts, indeed.”

Embarrassed at being caught staring, Thea shrugged. “I was wondering what your plans are. How do you intend to set about finding Matthew’s mother?”

“The Blue Boar seems the likeliest place to start.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you would need any introduction to anyone at the tavern,” Thea commented drily.

He chuckled. “You have me there. I do know Malcolm Hornsby well enough to ask him a few questions, and I shall do so. But it is the visitors to the inn that interest me more than the ones in the tavern. And there
Mrs.
Hornsby reigns supreme. I feel sure that you will be able to get a great deal more out of her than I. She looks at me in a decidedly disapproving way—much the way you do, actually.”

“She has three daughters,” Thea explained, ignoring his comment about her. “And while that makes mothers of eligible girls like the Squire’s daughters view you with great hope, it makes mothers of ineligible ones want to keep you far away—if they value their daughters’ happiness and virtue, that is.”