Scandal of The Season. Christie Kelley
a mistress of a wealthy man. Nevertheless, she hadn’t wanted that for herself. Yet now, she found herself in the same position, even if it was pretence.
As always, she wondered what her mother would think of her. Victoria barely remembered the woman who died when she was only seven. After Father died when Victoria was three, her mother went to the tavern and served ale. If Victoria was truthful with herself, her mother most likely served more than ale to the customers.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing important.”
She wandered the store again while Somerton gave the instructions to the woman. She wondered what it would be like if this wasn’t pretend. If she had the money to shop at a place like this. She had to stop dreaming. Only the daughters and wives of lords shopped here.
She walked back toward a bolt of plaid wool and stared at it. Lost in thought of what it would be like to be a real lady again, Somerton suddenly dragged her away and into the back of the store behind a curtain. Before she could sputter a word, he backed himself against the wall with her in front of him. His hand covered her mouth. Her heart pounded against her chest.
“Shh, or we will have something to explain,” he whispered sharply in her ear.
Victoria heard the bell on the shopkeeper’s door and then some ladies chattering as they entered. The ladies’ voices came closer as they examined bolts of fabric. Oh, dear God, he had saved her after all. Jennette and Avis had entered the shop. If they had discovered her with Somerton…she shuddered to think about the consequences.
Instead, her mind wandered to the hard chest she found herself pressed against, the calloused hand covering her mouth and the scent of sandalwood permeating the air around them.
“Do you understand?” he whispered so quietly she barely heard him.
She nodded.
He slowly removed his hand and slipped it around her waist. She prayed Avis and Jennette would finish quickly. Being this close to him caused her heart to beat erratically and warmth to spread throughout her body. How could he expect her to sleep next to him all week?
They stood there a few minutes more before she finally heard her friends leaving the store. She exhaled a long held breath and moved away from him.
“We need to leave before someone else walks in,” she said.
“I agree, but we are not done shopping yet.” He walked away to speak with the shopkeeper again.
Victoria clenched her fists. Never had she met such an exasperating man. She could not walk into another shop with him!
“All right, everything is set. The gowns will be finished by Wednesday afternoon. That should give you time to pack them.” He paused for a moment. “You do have a trunk, don’t you?”
“Yes, I have a trunk,” she retorted. There was no need to tell him it would be a borrowed trunk.
“Good, now you need new undergarments, bonnets, gloves—”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “You will not assist me in buying undergarments. Besides no one will see them so what I have is serviceable enough.”
“Oh?” He cocked a brow at her. “Is that not what a man does for a mistress?”
“No.”
“I believe it is. And do not forget that I shall see you in your undergarments and will not be pleased to find you wearing ‘serviceable’ things.”
“Bastard,” she hissed as she walked out the door. He grabbed her arm and swung her toward him. His hazel eyes had turned green with anger.
“I am the man who can rip your world apart. Don’t ever forget that.”
She yanked her arm out of his grip. “I am quite certain you will never let me forget it.”
“I won’t,” he whispered.
Anthony opened the door to Lady Whitely’s brothel and walked upstairs after a few nods to the ladies. Several of them looked disappointed that he was heading toward his mother’s private rooms. After a quick knock, he entered the empty room. His mother would hear about his entrance from one of the ladies and follow him quickly.
He wandered the suite of rooms, admiring her style of decorating. While she had most of the house decorated in gaudy reds and burgundies, this room had pale blue wall coverings with white and gold accents. It hardly looked like the bedroom of a brothel owner.
Ten years ago, he had run from this place as if the devil had been chasing him. Now, he found it, and her, far less unpleasant than visiting his childhood home. He only called there to see his sister. His father could rot in hell for all he cared.
“Anthony.”
He turned his head at the soothing sound of his mother’s voice. “Good afternoon, Mother.”
“This is a pleasant surprise.”
“I happened to be near and thought I would call on you.” He sat in the gold velvet chair.
“What is really wrong, Anthony?”
He should have known she would immediately realize he was worrying about something.
He told her about Genna’s visit and lack of enthusiasm toward her upcoming nuptials. “I’m not certain she even loves the man,” he added.
His mother’s brows drew downward into a pained frown. “I wish I could give her some advice.”
“You gave up that right almost twenty years ago,” he said harshly. Sometimes when he least expected it, the anger at her surfaced. While he understood it wasn’t all her fault, it never stopped the resentment from returning.
“I understand that, Anthony. However, it doesn’t mean I can’t yearn for something I will never have.”
She stared down at her silk skirts. At forty-five, she was still a beautiful woman. A few gray strands sprinkled her blond hair and several lines around her eyes were now apparent. But she radiated beauty.
“So why else did you call on me today, Anthony?”
“I will be leaving on Thursday for a house party. So I won’t be able to call for a fortnight.”
She nodded. “Farleigh’s party, no doubt.”
“How did you know…? Never mind, I’m sure I do not want to know how you learned about the party.” Whom his mother slept with was none of his business. He had decided that years ago.
“I hear everything in here,” she said with a small laugh.
Anthony looked around the room and then stood to glance out the window. His gaze slid to Victoria’s home. Was she there now?
“What is really bothering you, my dear?” she asked softly. “Have you thought about what I said?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. I have been thinking that Lord Farber’s oldest might be another option for you. She’s been out for three Seasons and has not taken an interest in anyone.”
“Mother, I will think about Miss Farber and Miss Coddington when I return from the party.”
She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You are doing another job for Ainsworth.”
“Yes, but I have decided this is my last. But that is not what is bothering me.”
“Then what is it?”
“What do you know of Miss Seaton?” He needed to find out all he could before he depended on her for such an important assignment.
“Miss Seaton?”
“Your neighbor, next door,” he replied.
“Yes, I know of her,”