Something Scandalous. Christie Kelley

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      THE FIRST KISS

      He opened his eyes and saw tears in her green eyes. This wonderful, sensitive woman was crying over his pain. And that wasn’t right. He couldn’t move his gaze away from her eyes, her lips, that pert little nose that he wanted to kiss.

      And why couldn’t he? Abigail didn’t want him any longer, if she ever had wanted him. Right in front of him stood a beautiful woman who openly flirted with him, teased him, and seemed to desire him.

      Slowly he lowered his head toward hers. He paused barely an inch away from her lips. If she moved, he would let her go. But she did not.

      He curved his hand around her neck, bringing her closer, until their lips met. Shock and desire soared throughout his body as they kissed. All he’d wanted was a little comfort from her. Something to make him forget his pain. And now, all he wanted was to lay her down on the sofa and make love to her all afternoon. He wanted to leisurely explore her body and kiss every freckle, wherever they might be.

      He let his tongue glide across her lips, hoping she would open for him. And she did. But he never expected the all-encompassing passion as her tongue touched his, met him, and caressed him. He moved his hands to cup her face.

      She tasted sweeter than he ever imagined. A combination of honey and cinnamon, and it drove him mad. He trailed his hands down her back, pressing her closer to him, to his rising erection. Damn, how he wanted her…

      SOMETHING SCANDALOUS

      CHRISTIE KELLEY

      ZEBRA BOOKS

       KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      This book would never have been, if not for the wonderful people in my life. To my writing friends, Kate Dolan, Kathy Love, Kate Poole, Janet Mullany, and Sheryl Fischer, thanks for letting me call and whine about my characters and plot.

      A special thanks to Allison Lane who assisted me greatly with answers on British citizenship. And more thanks to the Beau Monde Chapter, whose members can answer all my silly questions faster than any reference librarian can.

      To the Romance Bandits, thanks for being such wonderful friends and understanding when I forget to write my blog!

      Finally, to the men in my life, Mike, Stephen, and Tommy, thanks for understanding when I need to be alone in my office with the door shut. I love you all!

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Epilogue

      About the Author

      Chapter 1

      London, 1817

      As the door to Elizabeth’s home slammed shut, she braced herself for the inevitable confrontation. They hadn’t even waited for the butler or footman to open the door and announce them. Loud footsteps preceded their entry. Her heart raced as she attempted to rein in her emotions. Glancing up from her needlework, she watched Richard enter the salon with his wife Caroline following behind him.

      “Elizabeth, we have given you six months and still you have refused to comply with my—our simple request,” Caroline said as she sank to the sofa with a deep sigh.

      “You have no claim here.” Why must she have this conversation with them every month? And worse, why did it distress her so terribly each time? He had no claim here…at least not yet.

      “Actually, I just might,” Richard said, and then sat in the chair across from his wife.

      “You are not the duke, Richard.”

      “Not yet,” he added softly.

      Her attempts to keep the greedy couple from taking over her father’s house had only made them more determined. They only wanted the house and the estates in the country for their ambitions. Mostly, Caroline’s ambition. Without her, cousin Richard would have been happy with his manor home in Dorchester. But Caroline wanted more. She would never be satisfied as the wife of a baron. She wanted the duchy and all that went with it, including Kendal House.

      Only the house didn’t belong to them…or her.

      “Do you have any new proof that Edward is dead?” Elizabeth asked, staring at him. “Don’t forget he had at least one son who would inherit over you.”

      “It has been ten months since your father died,” Richard said harshly. “The solicitor sent several missives to Edward, but received no reply. And he has yet to arrive. Everyone knows about those heathen savages they have in America. Edward and his family were probably killed by them.”

      “Edward has been in Canada for the past five years.” Elizabeth inhaled deeply, trying to keep her patience. “And until you know for certain about his death, you have no right to live here. Kendal House and the estates belong to the duchy until such time as his death is confirmed.”

      She prayed she was right. Richard and Caroline would squander the income from the estates on gambling, gowns, and balls. Neither appeared to have an interest in putting forth the effort to ensure the tenants were cared for and the lands remained profitable.

      “That is where you are wrong,” Caroline said with a tight smile. “Our solicitor is drawing up the paperwork right now.”

      “That shall be nothing but a waste of his time—and your money. It means nothing. This is the duke’s residence, and Richard is not the duke.”

      “Edward refuses to return and claim his rightful inheritance,” Richard added.

      “That still makes no difference,” Elizabeth explained. “He is the duke, whether he chooses to return home or not. Besides, ten months is no time at all. He most likely had to pack up his entire house in York and arrange passage over here. Plus the voyage time. I have heard the winters in Canada are dreadful, so they might not have been able to leave as expected.”

      “Then he should have sent a missive to that effect. Something acknowledging his inheritance,” Richard replied.

      Caroline shook her head. “For all we know, Edward is dead.”

      “Then his son would inherit.” Dear God, they were driving her mad. It seemed as if they were far more determined than in previous months.

      “Ah, yes,” Caroline drawled. “But if he and Edward are both dead, then Richard inherits.”