Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) (15 page)

Alexandra wiggled her hips, which
happened to be pushed against Sutton’s breeches.  He pushed her against
the hardness in his breeches and she wiggled back.  He lifted his lips
from hers.

“You misunderstand, little Badger.” 
His breathing ragged, he struggled to control himself.  “I cannot believe
that a woman with your intelligence fails to notice all the signs of a man who
desires her.”  His kissed her hard. “And I find you most beautiful.” 
He wrapped his arms completely around her.  She fit against him
perfectly.  “
Most
beautiful.”

  He heard her gasp at his words.
His mouth brushed lightly against her neck, nipping at the tender
flesh.    His lips traced a trail back to the corner of her
mouth and she let out a small moan, as he ran his tongue over her bottom
lip.  Virgin she may be, but Alexandra’s body held a wealth of
sensuality.  Sutton could think of nothing but encouraging that
sensuality.  He imagined the things he would teach her.  Of whole
days spent in bed. He wanted to pleasure her endlessly.  She tentatively
opened her mouth, and her tongue darted out shyly, seeking his. 

Sutton groaned and pulled her
closer.  A book fell from the shelf and the title glared up at him. 
Dear
God
, he
was
seducing her against a stack of etiquette books.

His fingers massaged her buttocks,
caressing them through her gown, feeling for the crevice that split them apart.
He grunted and pushed her slight form against his arousal more firmly.  He
had been hard since he’d spied her through the book stacks. If he reached under
her skirts to the slit in her drawers, he knew she would be wet and ready for
him. 

Alex pulled her face away from his. 
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, erotic.  One small hand reached up to caress
his cheek, then moved to his ear to touch the piece of jade. She brushed her
lips against his.  Her fingers tickled his scalp.

  Sutton shuddered.   A
thought came to him, something he had never offered to any woman. 
“Alex.  I would not misuse you.  I will buy you a lovely apartment
anywhere you wish.  We can travel, even to Macao if you like.  I
shall buy you more books than you could read in a lifetime. I –“

She stiffened in his arms like a
board.  Her face full of shocked hurt, she gave him a look of distaste.
“How dare you.”  The words were rough with emotion.  Her mouth was
set in a grim line.

“Cam?  Cam?  Where are you?”
Miranda’s voice floated from one aisle over.

“Put me down!” Alexandra hissed. 
She pushed at him, twisting from his embrace. Her face turned from his, but not
before he noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes.

He put her down, reluctant to end their
contact.  Alexandra stood and straightened her skirt, her hands jerking
quickly over her wrinkled gown.  Hostility emanated from her.  And
hurt.  The Badger apparently did not find his asking her to be his
mistress quite the boon that Sutton thought it to be.  His wanting of her consumed
him, and the words popped out of his mouth, unbidden.  Sutton spent years
in control of his emotions, particularly around women, but not this
one
woman.  The thought confused and unnerved him.

Alex shook, struggling to kneel, and pick
up her books. She refused to look at him.  He could hear her gulping in
air.  The thought that he’d injured her enough to make her nearly sob out
loud gave him a physical ache.

 “Alex,” he said contritely, “I’m
sorry I –“ He reached for her.  If she would just let him
explain.  Let him hold her. 

She shied from him like a dog afraid to
be kicked.

“I don’t need your help, Lord
Reynolds.  You might dirty your fancy breeches.” 

He flinched from the sarcasm in her tone.

Miranda rounded the corner.  “Oh,
there you are!  I’m in shock! You won’t believe who is here, calmly
reading the newspaper as if –“ She stopped, spying Alexandra on the
floor.

“Miss Dunforth?  Alexandra? Whatever
are you doing here?  What happened?  Let me help you.”  Miranda
shot a pointed look at him as she went to Alex.

Sutton watched Alex in agony while she
picked up her books.  Her shaky shoulders and stilted movements told him
how his words had hurt her.    Alexandra was a decent woman who
deserved marriage.  Expected marriage.   No matter her
nonchalant attitude towards the institution.  He wished fervently he could
take back his words.

Alexandra thought she would burst into
tears right in the middle of Thrumbadge’s.  She rarely cried.  Sutton
Reynolds, that conceited, titled ass, made her chest ache and tears well in her
eyes.  He didn’t deserve to see her cry.  Rake!  Dear God, she’d
practically allowed him to ruin her!   How could she have allowed him
such liberties?  His mistress!  Did he know how incredibly insulting
that was? 
I deserve some respect!  I realize I am only a spinster
from Hampshire, with no great connections to recommend me, but does he really
think so little of me?
  That’s what hurt the most.  He’d almost
convinced her that he desired her. Liked her even. Aunt Eloise had warned her
about men like Lord Reynolds.

“Miss Dunforth?  It’s time we left.”

Oh no.
 Alexandra, still trying to stack her books, heard Mr.
Runyon approach.  His footsteps stopped abruptly.  He cleared his
throat.

She looked up in time to see Mr. Runyon
turn pale, and his features harden into a mask of cold dislike.  The
cordial gentleman who escorted her to Thrumbadge’s earlier, disappeared. 
A vein in his temple pulsed, bulging a dark blue.  His lips curled into a
murderous sneer. 

“Well hello, Archie.  What a
surprise to see
you
here.  In London.  I thought you had
exiled yourself to the Continent,” Lord Reynolds drawled in a voice thick with
distaste.

A chill ran down Alexandra’s arms. 
Lord Reynolds sounded so foreign.

  Mr. Runyon’s fingers grasped her
upper arm.

“I missed being in the bosom of my
family, Cam.”  Mr. Runyon looked down at Alexandra. “I wondered where you
had gotten off to my
dear
.” He emphasized the last word, making it sound
intimate.

“I see you know the delightful Miss
Dunforth.”  Lord Reynolds raised a dark brow at her. “How
interesting.”  His body tensed like a deadly jungle cat about to pounce on
its prey. 

Miranda’s mouth hung open.  Her gaze
never left Mr. Runyon. She clutched her brother’s forearm tightly. 

“Yes, Miss Dunforth and I are birds of a
feather
.” 
Mr. Runyon smiled at Lord Reynolds, a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Two pairs of emerald green eyes flicked
over Alexandra.  Miranda’s held surprise, Lord Reynolds’s, a look of
disgust. 

Mr. Runyon implied something with his
words.  She supposed he meant she shared a love of books.

Lord Reynolds’s mouth formed into a grim
line.  A muscle ticked in his cheek.  The air around the two men was
thick and black with tension, the heaviness suffocating Alexandra. A dull ache
started at the back of her head.  She wanted her tea.  Urgently.

“I dropped my books.” She swallowed,
desperate to diffuse the hostility emanating from both men.   “And..”

“I found Miss Dunforth lying in heap!”
Miranda lied smoothly.  “Thank goodness I saw you, Miss Dunforth. 
You could have injured yourself.”  She walked confidently to Alexandra and
knelt to assist her.

Alexandra noticed Miranda gave Mr. Runyon
a wide berth, walking as far from him as she could, not even allowing the silk
of her skirts near him.

“Mother didn’t tell us you were in town.”
Miranda spoke to Mr. Runyon in a frigidly polite tone Alexandra didn’t
recognize. “Forgive our surprise.”   

“Yes, Archie.” Lord Reynolds
snapped.  “Perhaps you’ll come for tea.  My grandmother will no doubt
be
delighted
to see you.”  He smiled grimly at Mr. Runyon. 
“Alas, you’ll miss Elizabeth. She’s away at boarding school.”  His tone
was ominous and deadly.

Alexandra sensed something hidden behind
his words.   

Mr. Runyon jerked immediately, almost
pulling Alexandra over as she attempted to stand.  She gave him a
questioning look. 
He is afraid of Lord Reynolds
.

“Miranda, we need to return home and
leave Miss Dunforth and Archie to their…pursuits.”  Lord Reynolds looked
directly at Mr. Runyon.

Miranda stood, backing smoothly away from
Alexandra.  “I shall see you soon, Miss Dunforth.” 

“Possibly you will see her.”  Mr.
Runyon snarled.  “Miss Dunforth and I are quite busy.  She is newly
arrived in London and I am showing her the sights.  What free time I have
is devoted to my business pursuits.  I am stretched to make time for my
dear cousin’s birthday celebration.”  Mr. Runyon’s pale slim hand gripped
the wolf’s head atop his walking stick so tightly Alexandra imagined the ruby
red eyes of the beast bulging and popping out. 

 Lord Reynolds smiled wryly. 
“Pity.  I should
so
adore discussing old times with you.  My
father, before he passed away, regaled me with tales of your adventures in
London while I was in Macao.”

Mr. Runyon blanched, becoming even paler
as Lord Reynolds spoke.  Alexandra could see a fine mist of sweat
collecting just above his perfectly groomed mustache.  She could smell his
fear.

“Miranda?”  Lord Reynolds gently
steered his sister away from Alexandra and Mr. Runyon.  His face held a
contemptuous look.  “I shall look forward to seeing you at Jeanette’s
party.”  The dark head nodded to her.  “Miss Dunforth.  You
should be careful where you step in the future.”  He turned and strode
away.  Miranda hurried next to him, struggling to keep up with his long
strides.

Mr. Runyon watched them depart.  He
sighed deeply, his body visibly relaxing as Lord Reynolds departed.  He
turned to regard Alexandra, and a sad smile came over his features.  “Come
along, my dear.” Mr. Runyon took the books from her, tucking them under his
arm, and steered her to a waiting clerk.

The scene Alexandra just witnessed
replayed in her mind.  Mr. Runyon and Lord Reynolds obviously knew each
other.  Hated each other.  She wondered what had occurred between the
two men to create such animosity.  She thought of the look Lord Reynolds
gave her before he walked away. His green eyes had been filled with utter
contempt. His attitude angered her.  His treatment of her unwarranted no
matter his issue with Mr. Runyon. And how exactly did the two men know and
despise each other?  “Mr. Runyon?  What is the nature of your
association with Lord Reynolds, if I may ask?”

Mr. Runyon hiccupped.  He cleared
his throat as his shoulders sagged in defeated despair.

Alexandra touched his sleeve.  She
didn’t wish to upset him further but she needed to know. “Forgive me for asking
but -”

He stopped walking.  He reached into
his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, blotting his eyes. “I am sorry, Miss
Dunforth.  I am so sorry for that dreadful scene you witnessed and my
ungentlemanly behavior. Pray forgive my loss of composure.”

“It’s none of my affair.” She gave his
arm a squeeze. The poor man looked wrung out, like a damp napkin. “Let’s just
go back to my uncle’s.  A cup of tea will restore your composure.” 
She waited as Mr. Runyon paid the clerk for the books.  The clerk took his
time wrapping their purchase and Alexandra took a moment to scan the bookstore
for any sign of Lord Reynolds and Miranda. Why did she feel the need to clarify
her association with Mr. Runyon to Lord Reynolds?  Her mind whispered
back. 
Because you care what Lord Reynolds thinks of you.

“Shall we?”  Mr. Runyon thanked the
clerk and moved Alexandra towards the entrance. 

“You have a right to know.” Mr. Runyon
stopped just outside the door.

Alexandra looked up at him.  He
looked sincere and very, very sad.

  “Cam, or Lord Reynolds as you know
him," he said, “is the stepson of my beloved cousin, Jeanette.”

Alexandra swallowed hard.  The
Marchioness, that horrid woman who interrupted her tea with the Dowager at
Cambourne House, was Mr. Runyon’s cousin?   The resemblance, once she
looked for it, was strikingly clear.  Mr. Runyon and the Marchioness
shared the same pale blue eyes and identical heads of wheat colored hair. 

“So Cam and I are cousins of a sort,” Mr.
Runyon continued.   “I have not seen Lord Reynolds for many years,
not since before he left for Macao.  I fear that Cam and his family do not
think too highly of me.  I had a misunderstanding with Lord Robert, that’s
Lord Reynolds’s father.”  Mr. Runyon’s eyes began to fill with tears
again.  “Robert was a horrible man.”  He winced.  “I’m so sorry
to speak ill of the dead Miss Dunforth, but Lord Robert always blamed others
for his own failings.  At any rate, I had only returned to my father’s
good graces when Lord Robert felt the need to give my father details of what he
considered my character flaws.  Very embarrassing. 
Humiliating.  The Reynolds family, I fear, cost me dearly.  Lord
Robert harbored an insane jealousy of my relationship with Jeanette.” He
shrugged.  “Lord Robert loved my cousin madly. I fear it unhinged
him.  He treated her terribly.  Cam treated her even worse.  She
tried to be a real mother to him.  He threw all of her efforts back in her
face.  She cried on my shoulder many an afternoon.  She so wanted to
be a true mother to Cam.