Somewhat Scandalous (Brambridge Novel 1) (21 page)

CHAPTER 26

By Lucifer, she was still gorgeous. Henry straightened on the well-sprung carriage seat and hoped that Agatha couldn’t see how her décolletage had affected him. Desperate want and rage fought within him at the same time, blinding him to the roadside obstacles.

“Watch out, Henry!” Agatha shouted as a small boy darted in front of the precarious carriage. She grabbed him by the arm and shook it. “What’s the matter with you? Have you been drinking?”

Henry thought of the two whisky tumblers he had drained before he could get up the courage to ask her out on a drive. That and to stop himself turning round and going back to bed. The short answer to her question was yes. But in his defense, it had been accompanied by a rather large and satisfying sandwich.

Devil bedamned he wished that she had a large coat to wear or something that would hide her away. He had seen what the men were like in the park on a previous occasion. Whilst a lot of that was tied up with these terrible rumors, much of it was to do with the fact that Agatha had matured into a beautiful woman.

He twitched the reins a little, causing the horses to shake their heads in disagreement. He felt a sudden urge to break into song.

“You have been drinking,” she said suddenly. “I can smell it.” Agatha sat back on the seat leather and folded her arms, pushing her bosom up even further. Henry gulped.

“I merely had a sip of brandy,” he said, marveling at how cool and aloof his voice sounded whilst his body burned. “I was trying the new intake that the Berale House estate manager ordered. He asked me to give my approval to buy before the next shipment came in. Given the wars with France, it is difficult to get new brandy these days and there is a lot of competition for barrels…” His voice faded as he became aware that Agatha was gazing at him with an eyebrow raised.

She put a hand into her skirts.

Henry groaned. “Please don’t get out your notebook.”

If he had just stuck with telling her he was trying the new intake, as false as it was, it might have flown.

However, Agatha looked at him for a few seconds longer with her eyebrow raised and then turned to face the front again.

“What’s wrong with my notebook?”

Henry hunched his shoulders. “When you get out your notebook it means you are really analyzing everything being said in a very
scientific
manner.”

“Aren’t we meant to turn left here to go into the park?” Agatha withdrew her hand from her skirts, her face white.

Clenching his fists, Henry pulled hard on the reins. The horses jerked their heads but followed the curve through the railings into the park.

They had barely entered fifty paces when another carriage hailed theirs. Agatha groaned beside him. Henry stilled the carriage horses reluctantly, wondering if he could hide behind the thin whip he held in his hand.

“Hullo, old fellow,” the gentleman said in a jolly manner. “Haven’t seen you out much since… since well.”

“Yes, quite.” Henry tightened his grasp on the rein and glanced at Agatha with a worried frown.

“Since me,” the lady said with a pout, laying a gloved hand on the man’s arm. “Silly Edward. Everyone knows. And anyway I’m with you now, titbit.”

Agatha winced. Edward and Henry did the same.

“Look, old chap, hope you took no offence…” Edward continued. Henry smirked but he let Edward squirm a little longer. “It’s just that Celine is such a beautiful woman.”

The lady in question visibly preened and plucked at her daffodil yellow dress. Then she looked Agatha straight in the face.

“And your name is?”

“Agatha Beauregard,” she said shortly.

“Oh yes. We meet again,” Celine said softly.

Henry glanced sideways at Agatha; her face was white, and her fingers trembled on her pelisse. They’d met before. Oh good grief. How on earth was he going to win Agatha over if she’d already met his ex-mistress?

“Pleased to meet you,” Edward said politely.

“I’m not,” Celine cocked her head on one side. “Have you heard what they are saying? Illegitimate child, peasants in Devon, men all over the place and do you know what she did to Charles Fashington?”

Henry frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He squared his shoulders as Agatha’s slumped next to him. He ached to hold her in his arms.

“What did she do to Charles Fashington?” Henry leaned forward, his body angled away from Agatha, trying to block her from Celine’s sight.

Celine leaned forward to as if to import great meaning to what she was going to say. “Did you know that she put it around that Charles jilted her, and then when nobody believed it, she spread a rumor that he frequented brothels which had very particular reputations
if you know what I mean
.”

Henry sat back in his seat; he could not look at Agatha, he felt helpless, so helpless that if he looked at her, she would see it in his eyes.

“Hmm,” he said and then fell silent.

“Now look here!” Agatha exploded next to him. “I’m sat here right in front of you…”

Henry sighed and took Agatha’s hand in his. “I’m sorry but every word Celine said is true.”

Celine nodded and smiled happily.

“Every word of Charles Fashington frequenting a brothel of a particular reputation is true,” he continued.

Celine continued to smile. A look of horror crossed Edward’s face and he dived for the reins of the carriage as if to see if he could take Celine away as soon as possible.

“In fact, when I hunted Charles Fashington down on the night that Charles and Agatha broke off their engagement, he was engaged in just such an activity.”

Celine’s smile straightened. “He was?”

“Oh yes. And anyway, Celine, we must all start somewhere, mustn’t we?”

Celine blinked and straightened, the smile gone from her face.

“Celine, I think it is time we said our farewells.” Edward shook the reins that he now held in his hand, his fingers visibly trembling. “Do you think I might see you at the club soon, Henry?” he enquired tentatively.

Henry frowned. “Yes,” he said slowly, “And we’ll have a little chat regarding a certain someone.”

As the carriage wheeled away, Agatha drew a gloved hand across her brow and dabbed at the perspiration. “Do you think that we could just drive for a bit, Henry?”

Henry looked up sharply as Agatha used his first name for the first time in years, but Agatha faced away from him. “I think there is a rhododendron drive somewhere in here.”

Agatha tilted her head towards him, the movement only serving to emphasize the gentle crevice between her breasts. He licked his lips.

“Henry,” she said sharply. With a jerk on the reins, he set the horses off again at a smart pace into the park.

“I’m sorry that we met them,” he said softly. “Celine was never good at keeping secrets.” He stopped for a moment. “She used to know all the rumors and everything about anyone. It made her essential in some of the things that I did.”

“Where did you meet her?” Agatha asked. Henry frowned.

“She was the madam of a high class brothel,” he said shortly. He frowned as Agatha gave a small smile.

“Not unexpected,” she said softly. “You never wished to marry her.”

Henry brushed at a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes.
How did she know?
She couldn’t have been watching his every move, could she? Was she really
Monsieur Herr?

“But you still haven’t told me what you want from me.”

Henry gazed at her for a long second. “I want… no, I need. Oh devil take it, Agatha.”

Letting go of the reins, he pulled her roughly towards him, his large hands gathering her up at the small of her back. Her head tipped back and she stared at him with questions in her eyes. He drew in a breath as her rosy lips parted. Drawing a slow hand up the silk covering of her spine, he cupped her neck. Her mouth opened in protest. Tilting his head on one side, he looked at her, wonderingly, every muscle straining in his body. Not
again
. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to know how she felt about him. It was better this way, just being near her. It would have to do.

As he drew back, she closed her mouth with a snap. Turning to grab the reins once more, he shook his head, but stopped as Agatha laid a hand on his. The horses stamped their feet impatiently.

Agatha leaned into him. “I’ll show you scientific…” she murmured. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, she trailed a hand over his shoulder, and caressed under his jaw.

In shock, he turned his face so that it rested against hers, unable to stop himself. For an instant she let it rest, and then, tilting her head to the side slightly, she took his lips in hers and licked. Henry shivered to his boots as her catlike tongue ran smoothly across the tender inside of his mouth. Clenching at the reins, he closed his eyes. It was wonderful, no,
terrible
. She didn’t detest him in the least. But…
oh gods
. He couldn’t marry her now.

CHAPTER 27

The crunching of a horse’s hooves resounded loudly in the still park.

“The slut and her paramour I see.”

“Good God.” Blinking, Agatha drew away from Henry, his frozen chin looming squarely above her. Why had she given in to the devilish voice that had pushed her into reaching up to him?

“Not God. That’s Lord Fashington now, thank you Miss Beauregard.”

Agatha stared blearily at the figure on his horse; no longer a charming dilettante, Charles Fashington was still a good looking man, but now his mouth seemed to pout in vanity rather than strength; his black hair slicked back revealing a strong widow’s peak.

“You wouldn’t have called off our engagement at the time had you known that I would be coming into my inheritance, would you?”

Henry lifted his large hand as if it burnt from where it fit snugly at her waist. “Go to blazes, Charles. You wanted out just as much as she did. You just weren’t man enough at first to break it off yourself.”

Charles jerked at his reins, causing his horse to sidle. “Shut up, Anglethorpe. I have as much influence as you have now. This is between her and me.  I’ll talk to her as I wish.”

“So it
is
you who is putting round all the rumors.” Agatha couldn’t stop herself. It must have been Charles. No one else held so much hatred for her. She drew a breath in and then stopped. Could he really have been the one who had tried to murder her?

Charles laughed, opening his mouth so wide that Agatha could see his teeth. “Rumors?  You mean they aren’t true? I was told them by a close, yes very close friend.” Laying his whip across his lap, he caressed the rigid leather and shot Agatha black look through his eyelashes.  “No, you silly fool. I didn’t start the rumors. They were already here. But don’t blame me if I don’t get any satisfaction from passing them on. After all, for three years nobody in government would talk to me unless they really had to.”

“I didn’t reveal any details of our encounter to anyone, Fashington.” Henry slapped his hand against the side of the curricle. “Just like I promised. But did you seriously expect me not to drop some other things I had found out about you into key ears that would listen?”

“Goddamn you Anglethorpe. That damaged my reputation and set my career back at least a decade. At least now that I am a lord, all of that is forgotten. Everyone wants to know the latest Lord Fashington. Funny thing, wealth—and power.” Charles turned back to Agatha. “Hah! I’m even engaged to Lord Guthrie’s daughter now.”

Lord Guthrie’s daughter? Agatha could only briefly remember a shy woman standing behind Lord Guthrie before Lady Guthrie had thrown her out of the ball. The daughter would be a great heiress; even though it was known that Lord Guthrie also worked for the government, he was a very rich man in his own right.

“Mmm. Miss Guthrie is so deliciously malleable. She will do anything I ask. You see, she thinks that I’m
lovely
and
charming
.”  Charles sneered again, his mouth twisting. “I ask you, what man is charming?”

Agatha swallowed.

“Shut up, Fashington,” Henry said quietly. “Lord or not, there are still some things I can influence through what I know.”

Charles growled, yanking at the bit on the horses’ mouths to set them in motion. “Pardon me if I don’t invite you to the wedding,” he threw over his shoulder as the carriage sped away. “It might give you more time to find
Monsieur Herr
. That is if you haven’t already found them.”

Henry didn’t wait for Charles to disappear. Flicking the reins, he wheeled the curricle in a wide circle and set off back the way they had come.

Agatha clutched at the side of the curricle as it bounced across the cobbles. “Who is
Monsieur Herr
?”

“No one that you know.” Henry stared straight ahead. He would not meet her gaze.

“Oh. Something to do with your work?” The work that he wanted to keep from his bride, no doubt.

“Yes.”

“You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“Just drop it, Agatha. Enough. Now is not the time.” Henry yanked on the reins as they arrived back at Colchester Mansions and refused to look at her.

She didn’t wait for him to hand her down. Flinging open the curricle door, she put her hand on the wooden floor and swung herself to the pavement. Without looking back, she fled up the steps to Colchester Mansions, and all the way up to her room.

She watched him leave covertly from the upstairs bedroom window. His back, so straight when they had been driving, slumped across the two seats. Agatha bit down on the back of her knuckle as he lay motionless, as if he were never moving again. And then with a thrust of his powerful forearm, he righted himself and set the horses off down the street.

“Have a nice time?”

Backing away from the window, Agatha drew her breath sharply. Victoria stood just inside the doorway, her face an unnatural shade of white.

“I, I’m not sure.” Agatha frowned. “Where’s Arturo?” Usually two dogs followed Victoria around the house, but now only one lay at her feet.