Regency Scandal: Some Like It Wicked / Some Like to Shock

‘Flattered as I am that you’ve discussed me so intimately with your friend—’ the iciness of his tone clearly indicating the opposite ‘—I have to inform the pair of you that the conclusions you’ve drawn regarding my recent so-called “attentions” are totally in error.’

‘Oh …’ Pandora had never felt so humiliated. So utterly and completely devastated with the emotion that she wished she might crawl away and hide somewhere. Anywhere. An option clearly not open to her when Rupert continued to loom over her so ominously. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, an action that glittering silver gaze followed exclusively. ‘I apologise if I have caused you insult, your Grace—er—Rupert,’ she amended as those furious silver eyes narrowed in dire warning. ‘It was not my intention to do so. I merely wished to—’

‘Refuse the dubious honour of becoming my mistress before I felt compelled to voice it.’

She had said that, Pandora acknowledged with an inward wince. A remark which he’d obviously taken exception to. ‘Well. That is … Of course, I’m sure that many women would be deeply flattered to so much as be considered—’

‘Oh, give it up, Pandora,’ he bit out harshly. ‘And accept that there’s no going back from your insult to me.’

Her wince was outward this time. ‘I was angry when I made that remark—’

‘Because you had assumed I meant to insult you by making such an offer!’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.

‘Well … yes. Rupert, do you think perhaps you might … move away slightly?’ Her neck was starting to ache from looking up at him towering over her so threateningly. Indeed, he seemed to have swallowed up all the air in the room, making it impossible for her to breathe!

‘No.’

She blinked at his uncompromising tone. ‘You are in my bedchamber uninvited, sir,’ she attempted to rally. ‘For the second time in as many days. The least you could do is cease these attempts to intimidate me.’

Rupert gave her accusation some thought, decided that perhaps she was right and he was guilty of intimidation and took a single step back. ‘Better?’ he challenged.

‘It is a … slight improvement, yes,’ she allowed with a small sigh.

He felt some of his initial anger began to fade as he considered the amusement of their present situation instead. Pandora Maybury, with her unusual beauty, golden curls and mesmerising violet eyes, had minutes ago insulted him and his honour, more roundly, more completely, than any other living person. Perhaps because any gentleman who had ever dared to speak to him like that would have very quickly found himself at the other end of Rupert’s duelling pistols.

His amusement faded somewhat as he recalled that to have indeed been the fate of Pandora’s husband and her lover …

He moved away from her until he stood with his back to the room, looking out of the window into the street below. His carriage and four still stood on the cobbles below, waiting to take him back to Stratton House, an option he would perhaps be wise to take.

If not for the presence of the woman who awaited him there …

His shoulders stiffened with renewed resolve as he turned back to face the now cautiously watchful Pandora. ‘Contrary to general belief, the offer I intend making to you is not of becoming my mistress—but my wife!’

Chapter Eight (#ulink_15de19b3-af5a-53bf-a6b6-ea792eae891a)

Pandora stared across at Rupert uncomprehendingly, sure she could not have heard him correctly. He certainly could not possibly have just asked her to— No, whatever nonsense had just left those chiselled lips had been stated; the arrogantly Rupert Stirling did not merely ask!

Even so, she knew she could not have heard him correctly. That the toplofty, the elegant Rupert Stirling, Duke of Stratton, Marquis of Devlin, Earl of Charwood, etc., etc., could not possibly have just stated he wished for her, the scandalous Pandora Maybury, to become his Duchess!

‘Whilst in some ways I find your silence a welcome relief, I also find it less flattering than even your earlier insults,’ he drawled into the tense silence.

Pandora blinked before focusing her narrowed gaze upon him. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’ she challenged. ‘Because if it is, then it’s in very poor taste.’ She moved impatiently to the middle of the bedchamber. ‘I believe I must ask you to leave now.’ She eyed him frostily.

Not quite the response Rupert had been hoping for; and how ironic that the first—and hopefully the last—marriage proposal he made, should be seen as nothing more than an attempt at mockery on his part! Yes, this was definitely less than flattering to him …

‘Would you mind explaining exactly why you think I would ever consider the idea of marriage to any woman to be in the least amusing?’ he asked.

Those violet eyes flashed her displeasure. ‘Because of who I am, sir. Or what the ton considers me to be, at least,’ she added with slight bitterness.

Having learnt all that he could of this woman in the last few days, Rupert was now only too well aware of the contempt with which the ton had treated Pandora since the death of her husband and her lover, of how most had preferred to forget her very existence during her year of mourning, and for the main part gave her the cut direct since her return to society some weeks ago, only the Duchesses of Clayborne and Woollerton choosing to seek out and value her company.

None of which Rupert found in the least a hindrance to Pandora becoming his Duchess. In fact, he would much prefer to know the true nature of the woman who was to become his wife rather than to rudely discover it after the event.

He raised his brows. ‘And exactly what is that, Pandora?’

She gave him a vexed glance. ‘My husband and Sir Thomas Stanley both died in a duel.’

‘Yes …?’

Her mouth tightened. ‘Surely my meaning is obvious?’

‘Not to me, no.’

‘Oh, please!’ she scoffed. ‘I am disgraced, sir. Only accepted into certain homes of the ton because my friends insist upon it. Why should you, or any other gentleman, ever wish to ally yourself to such a woman, let alone offer her marriage? Indeed, the fact that you have twice now entered my bedchamber uninvited shows the complete lack of regard in which you also hold me!’

Rupert watched through narrowed lids as Pandora moved restlessly about the bedchamber, her cheeks having paled to a delicate ivory and making those violet-coloured eyes appear almost purple. ‘Or it could convey the eagerness I feel to share your bed?’

She eyed him sharply, suspiciously, for several long seconds before sighing wearily. ‘Any member of the ton would happily tell you that there’s no need for you to offer me marriage in order to achieve that.’

‘And I believe I’ve already assured you—many times—that I rarely, if ever, listen to the opinions of the ton,’ Rupert drawled. ‘I certainly have no intention of seeking their approval regarding my choice of wife.’

‘Then you are a fool, sir.’ She paced agitatedly, the colour now back in her cheeks, blonde curls bouncing with each step she took. ‘Your very name would be tainted by association.’

Rupert looked down the length of his nose. ‘I am the Duke of Stratton, madam, and if you were to accept my marriage proposal you would become the Duchess of Stratton; ergo, there would be no name remaining by which I might be tainted.’

‘You—’

‘Yes, Pandora, it is I who must decide whom and when I shall marry.’ His top lip curled back in haughty disdain. ‘None of the ton were privy to the intimacy of your marriage, were they? Nor were they present during your liaisons with Stanley—or, at least, I presume they weren’t?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Pandora snapped her impatience with that last remark.

He nodded tersely. ‘I would rather know the truth of my future bride than otherwise.’

The truth? The truth was so very different from what any of the ton imagined!

Could she confide the ‘intimacy of her marriage’ to Rupert Stirling, of all people? If he believed her, then it would clear her of every accusation that had ever been made against her a year ago. If he believed her …

Would anyone believe Pandora if she were to claim that her three years of marriage to Barnaby Maybury had been nothing but a sham from start to finish? A smokescreen behind which Barnaby hid his true inclinations? Even more shocking, would anyone believe, accept, that the duel, fought by Sir Thomas Stanley and Barnaby a year ago, had not been over her at all, but another man with whom they had discovered they were both … intimately involved?

Pandora had learnt the shocking truth of her husband’s inclinations on her wedding night, when he had come to her bedchamber for the sole purpose of telling her that he would not be joining her there ever again, that the mere idea of touching, let alone making love to, a woman’s body totally and utterly repulsed him.

Pandora had been stunned, sickened, when Barnaby had gone on to reveal that he’d only told her these details of his private life at all because his having settled all her father’s debts now meant she could never tell another living soul as to the true circumstances of their marriage if she did not also wish to bring about the ruination of her own father. The humiliation Pandora had suffered, at this shocking knowledge of her husband’s desire for other men, had ensured her silence on the subject even after her father had died.

Just as Pandora had not even attempted to clear her own name of scandal a year ago, knowing that the cost of doing so would be the happiness of three other innocent people, that it was far better if everyone believed she was the guilty one than for Sir Thomas’s widow and two children to suffer from being placed in a position of ridicule rather than pity.

And it was because of that latter concern she knew she still couldn’t tell Rupert the truth now …

Her chin rose proudly. ‘Is there not another lady who might have every reason to expect to become your wife?’