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![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Order it from Amazon Order it from Barnes & Noble Order the ebook Order from Indie Bound Order from Books a Million Order from iBooks ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ISBN 978-0-06-178341-8 Top Pick! Featured Alternate Finalist: Best Historical, National Readers' Choice Awards |
In
Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady Book 1 of the
"Scandalous Lady" trilogy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The biggest
secret in Every gentleman is
wondering: Who is
the beauty in the
scandalous nude portrait hanging in one of Julian Delane, Earl of
Parkhurst, has a good idea. So
good, in
fact, that he's willing to make a wager on it.
If only the bet were all that's at stake… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews "...The hero and heroine are engaging, making this a pleasantly spicy early beach read." Publishers Weekly "...One outstanding book!" Coffee Time Romance 4 1/2 Stars and A Top Pick! "With her latest trilogy Callen introduces three remarkable women who defy society's rules to find passion and love. This is Callen's forte: entangle readers in a tale that's delightfully sexy, fast paced and filled with engaging characters who hold your interest until the end." RT BookReviews Magazine "Callen neatly matches up a sharp-witted heroinewith an irresistibly sexy hero to create a romance composed of equal measures of lively intrigue and potent passion." Booklist "A talented writer who has crafted a well-plotted story that will keep the reader wanting more." Rakehell.com "As always, Ms. Callen creates exquisite trilogies that are stand alones as well. Ms. Callen once again does NOT disappoint…she entraps her readers with extraordinary characters in a saga that’s witty, mysterious and most definitely sultry hot!" TheRomanceReadersConnection.com "In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady is good fun!" Romance Reviews Today "Gayle Callen has started her next trilogy with a bang, funny, exciting and a thrill that will keep you turning the pages." FreshFiction.com "Callen's characters are alive, forceful when neeeded yet tender and caring with each other...Readers will enjoy this gem of a story!" ReadertoReader.com "Gayle Callen rocks the historical romance!" Joyfully Reviewed.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Excerpt (The following is the property of the author and Avon Books, and cannot be copied or reprinted without permission.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the next creak of the
stair, someone hushed
someone else out in the hall. The gazes of the three men met and held,
even as
their smiles died.
Julian reached and turned
down the lamp until
they could barely see. “So they won’t notice us
when we open the door,” he
whispered, then got to his feet.
When
the two men crowded drunkenly behind him,
he had to push them back, the gloom too great for them to see his
warning
frown. Very slowly, he opened the door, grateful that the hinges were
well
oiled. He could see little at first, his eyes yet unaccustomed to the
gloom,
except for the tiny bobbing flame from a single candle. But the
cavernous hall,
with the staircase rising up through the center, was lit from below by
a single
lamp.
It
illuminated the cautious steps of three
figures just reaching the first floor. They wore dark trousers, coats
and hats,
but were slight enough that Julian whispered over his shoulder,
“They’re boys.”
He
turned back to peer out, feeling his friends
crowding behind him. They all watched the youths creep toward the main
saloon
and disappear within.
Julian
gestured and emerged from the card room,
the other two trailing behind him. They made no sound, which was
amazing for
three men well into their cups. Large hunting portraits covering all
the way to
the ceiling of the hall were silhouetted in the gloom, a spark of light
occasionally catching a golden frame.
Julian,
Leo and Peter reached the doorway to the
saloon and cautiously peered in. The three young intruders stood with
their
backs to the door, facing the nude portrait.
“Boys
will be boys,” Leo whispered.
Julian
glared at him and Leo rolled his
eyes.
The
boys whispered among themselves, then
separated along the length of the painting, put their hands on the
frame, and
attempted to lift.
Those
were not the rough hands of boys, but were
slim and delicate.
Julian
stepped into the room, knowing that the
meager light of a single candle would barely illuminate him.
“Caught in the
act,” he said, his deep voice cutting into the silence.
He
heard several gasps. The painting frame
banged against the wall, but hadn’t been dislodged. The three
figures seemed
frozen.
“You
can’t run,” Julian continued. “We are
between you and escape. Now why don’t you turn around, so we
can see the
thieves who dare attempt to steal the club’s
painting?”
They
seemed to share an unspoken communication,
then slowly turned around, heads lowered, their faces shadowed beneath
the
brims of their caps. The single candle wavered on a table beside them.
The
“boys” slumped, shoulders rounded, hands in
pockets, scuffing booted toes on
the floor.
“We
were just looking,” one said in a low, husky
voice.
“As
you lifted the painting?” Leo asked in
amusement. As he used their candle to light a lamp, they all backed up
against
the wall, shoulders brushing the painting. “I
didn’t know I was so
threatening,” he added dryly.
“They
should feel threatened,” Julian said.
“We’re witnesses to their crime. It’s a
shame they can’t induce us to forget
that this happened.”
There
was a pregnant pause.
Peter
sighed loudly. “Shall I awaken the
proprietor?”
“Wait!”
one of the thieves called, voice
desperate—and an octave higher.
“Take
off your hat,” Julian commanded.
Again
the thieves seemed to commune as they
glanced at each other. The one who’d spoken stepped forward,
shoulders back,
and removed the cap. Dark brown hair gleamed where it wound about her
head. One
lustrous curl slid slowly to her shoulder. Julian inhaled swiftly.
Rebecca
Leland, the woman who’d revealed herself
without qualm for a public painting, taking the chance that she would
forever
ruin her reputation.
In
the low light, her eyes glittered, full of
pride and defiance. Her complexion glowed in her heart-shaped face, her
lips
taut but full. She didn’t betray her nerves by licking them,
but something dark
inside Julian wished she would. He mentally shook himself, irritated
that he
was distracted by a pretty face. And he never usually overindulged in
drink
either. The latter was surely why he noticed that the open collar of
her shirt
showed the delicate lines of her throat. The loose fit of her coat
could not
hide the roundness of her breasts. He well remembered the way such
lushness had
framed the heart-shaped diamond.
But
the diamond and her indiscretion were all on
display, bold as life, filling the wall behind her head like an
invitation to
sin. What did she think of her erotic exhibit? Was she embarrassed? Did
her
companions even know the truth?
As
the tension in the room escalated, filling
the air with the heaviness that usually preceded a thunderstorm, the
other two
women bravely followed their leader, removing their hats.
“Ladies,
we have not been formally introduced,”
Julian said, feeling as if he were speaking only to Rebecca.
“Susanna—”
Peter began, but stopped himself.
The
women all glanced at Peter with a trace of
chagrin. He was evidently on more familiar terms with the young ladies.
Leo
chuckled. “Lord Parkhurst, you are making
the acquaintance of the Leland sisters, Susanna and Rebecca, and their
cousin
Lady Elizabeth Cabot, sister of the duke.”
Julian
knew that the duke was half Spanish, so
he deduced that the black-haired woman was his sister. That left the
redhead
for Rebecca’s sister. He thought he saw a resemblance to
Rebecca beneath the
spectacles Susanna wore. They had the same delicate nose and bold
cheekbones.
But Rebecca by far had the lushest mouth.
“I
can think of only one reason that three
ladies of Society would dare to invade a gentlemen’s
club,” Julian said slowly.
Crimson
splashed across Rebecca’s cheeks; but
then he could not imagine that she was innocent.
“We
dared each other,” she said.
He
arched a brow and sauntered closer. He knew
he was too big, too broad-shouldered for a Society gentleman. He had
the body
of a boxer, and he saw the flicker of apprehension in
Susanna’s eyes as he
approached.
But
Rebecca only glared up at him, obviously
unimpressed by his intimidation.
“You
dared each other to steal this particular
painting?” he countered.
She
didn’t look to her compatriots for
confirmation. “Of course not. We could hardly expect to steal
such a thing. We
wanted to play a prank and hide it.”
“So
you knew about this painting?”
“No!
But how could we not choose it, once we
arrived? I dare say, men as a species are rather vulgar.”
Said
the woman who’d posed nude, Julian thought
with a trace of amusement. “I think there is another reason
you targeted this
painting,” he said. “The artist, Roger Eastfield,
claims the model is a young
lady of Society. So which of you is it?”
He
pointed to the painting, saw all three women
look that way. Color rose in their faces, and he imagined they must
feel
embarrassed. Rebecca lifted her chin, determination flattening her
mouth.
But
before she could say anything, both
Elizabeth and Susanna spoke in perfect harmony.
“I’m the model.”
Julian
heard Leo chuckle, but he didn’t take his
gaze from Rebecca’s face. She grinned up at him, her
changeable hazel eyes
suddenly twinkling.
“I’m
the model,” she said.
He
crossed his arms over his chest, saw the way
her gaze darted—nervously?—down his body. He could
not help his reluctant
feeling of admiration at their bravery. They were all protecting
Rebecca.
“Now
isn’t this a puzzle,” Leo murmured,
amusement lacing his words.
“Oh,
come now, ladies,” Peter said. “I would not
have expected this from any of you. If your brothers knew of
this—”
“They
aren’t in town,”
“During
the height of the Season?” Julian asked.
Now he knew why the women had felt so free to make mischief.
“They’re
hunting in—” Susanna broke off at
Rebecca’s warning frown.
“Hunting,”
Leo said, openly rubbing his hands
together. “Hunting in…the country? Another
country? I happen to know the duke
has extensive property in
Julian
felt more intense focus than he’d
experienced in the ten years since he’d begun to resurrect
the earldom. He
wanted to demand answers, to shake Rebecca until she told him about the
stolen
diamond called the Scandalous Lady, and how she’d come to
wear it to a ball.
“You
have to let us leave,” Rebecca said.
He
hoped his direct stare was making her
nervous. “No, we don’t. We could report
this.”
“Or
perhaps we won’t,” Leo said, sauntering
forward. “I don’t know you ladies
well—”
“But
we know of you,” Susanna
said with the disapproval of a stern governess to her
charge. Her spectacles glittered in the lamplight as if with their aid
she
dissected him.
Leo
put a hand on his chest and bowed. “Then my
reputation precedes me. Allow me to prove that I can live up to your
beliefs.
Gentlemen, I propose a wager.”
Julian
didn’t want to be distracted by such
drunken foolery, but he forced himself to be patient, an ability that
had aided
him well over the years. He’d spent his childhood patiently
waiting to rescue
his family, then his adulthood patiently guiding his investments and
businesses, even while patiently seeking the proper bride.
Leo’s wager
might work out to Julian’s benefit.
“What
is it?” Peter asked warily.
Leo
smiled. “I propose that we each try to
determine the real identity of the model—any way we
can.”
A
momentary silence grew and held, thick with
possibilities and promise.
“This
is preposterous,” Rebecca said coolly.
“You
do not have much of a choice,” Julian said,
thinking how such a wager could lead him to unravel the truth of his
family’s
tragedy. “You are at our mercy. If you don’t wish
to participate, then you’ll
have to live with the consequences of your…unveiling. There
are many men who’ve
seen this painting. I wonder what they would think if they
knew…”
“That
is blackmail,” Susanna said tightly.
“Why,
Miss Leland, that is such an ugly word,”
Leo said. “You have put yourself in this situation, and I
think you’re getting
a decent return for such a daring stunt. We’ll let you go
free, and you’ll have
to accept our attempts to discover the truth.”
“So
you think by ganging up on us,” Rebecca
said, “you’ll somehow wear down our resistance?
Gentlemen, that will never
happen.”
“Your
voice is full of challenge,” Julian said.
“I like that.”
Her
focus came back to him immediately. She
betrayed her nerves by licking her dry lips.
And
after everything he’d gone through, his
single-minded devotion to his family and businesses, his obsession with
the
Scandalous Lady—one flick of this woman’s tongue
had him suddenly thinking dark
thoughts. He glanced up at the painting, at the up thrust breasts and
the dark
shadows between her thighs. Clenching his jaw, he focused his thoughts
on the
lost diamond and his father’s downfall.
“I
think the model is you,” he said to Rebecca
in a low, husky voice.
Tension
crackled between them like heat
lightning on a sultry summer evening.
She
tossed her head. “And I’ve already told you
it is. What challenge is that?”
“Two
of you are lying. But I think you’re not.
Leo, what say you?”
Leo
rubbed his chin thoughtfully, even as he
walked a circle about the women, examining them. They twitched uneasily
like
fillies up for auction at Tattersall’s. “I can see
you are all related, at
least by the shapes of your bodies. With so many garments
on—and male garments
at that—it is difficult to see a true difference. So we
cannot go by that.”
“You
are being vulgar,” Elizabeth said, her
voice haughty with generations of noble blood.
“And
you are being scandalous, Elizabeth,” Peter
said in a low voice. “All of you. I cannot
believe—”
“You
cannot believe that one of these women
would dare so much?” Julian said softly. “Ladies of
Society have so little to
do before they’re married.” He saw their looks of
outrage, but ignored them.
He’d been doing meticulous research on ladies this past year.
“A certain type of
woman might become…bored.”
“Don’t
pretend you understand any of us,”
Rebecca snapped.
“Perhaps
I don’t now, but I intend to know you
very well.”
The
alcohol was making him lose his vaunted
control. He could see her jaw clench. Damn, but she was beginning to
intrigue
him almost as much as the diamond.
Leo
stopped before Susanna, the spectacled
Leland sister. She met his gaze, hers full of a withering disdain.
“Peter,”
Leo said, “tell me you believe
Elizabeth is the model, because I want this one.”
Peter
frowned.
Susanna’s
brave front faltered as she stiffened.
“How dare you, sir! I should not think you capable of
discerning the truth.
Your reputation speaks of a poor intellect.”
“I
haven’t seen you out and about much, have I?”
Leo said slowly. His eyes lit. “You’re the
bluestocking, aren’t you? You dabble
in art, I believe?”
“Dabble?”
she echoed in a frosty voice.
“I
do believe that makes you more likely to pose
for a fellow artist. What fun! Peter, what say you?” Leo
didn’t take his eyes
off the woman, as if she might escape if he didn’t pin her
into place with his
gaze.
Peter
sighed. “Rebecca, Susanna, your brother is
my friend. He has helped me in so many ways I cannot recount them all.
I cannot
believe you guilty of such a thing, regardless of what you
say.” He studied
Elizabeth. “Then it has to be you.”
She
smiled cheerfully. “I told you it was.”
Peter
leaned toward her, smiling back. “And I’ll
enjoy proving it.”
Her
smile faltered.
“There
we have it, gentlemen,” Leo said, his
voice full of good-natured ease. “This wager will be
enjoyable as is, but I
think a monetary reward might give us further incentive.”
“My,
what big words you use,” Susanna
challenged.
Julian
gave a tight smile.
Leo
laughed, then glanced with speculation at
Julian and Peter. “Shall we say…five hundred
pounds?”
Nodding,
Julian knew the sum was no problem for
him, but Peter was only the youngest son of a squire and not in the
best
financial straits.
Peter
gave a brusque nod. “Done.”
Julian
said nothing
about his knowledge of the jewel. A wager was a wager, and every man
had to use
his own advantages.
For
a moment, he couldn’t believe his search for
the truth of the lost diamond could be so close to fruition.
He’d spent his
adult life resurrecting the respect his title deserved, saving his
property and
his people. He’d never set one foot outside the bounds of
propriety,
approaching even the smallest investment with caution and forethought,
including even his search for a bride.
Now
here he was, dazzled by Rebecca Leland’s
nudity, lured by the diamond that had contributed to his
father’s
downfall—challenged by the woman herself, who faced him down
as if what she’d
done were a grand adventure instead of the terrible risk it really was.
He
didn’t understand her at all. But he would learn.
“This
is useless,” Rebecca said, hands on her
hips.
She
should not draw attention to her feminine
roundness, not when it was so boldly painted behind her.
“We
could settle this right now,” Leo responded.
“You could each remove your clothing and let us see the
truth.”
The
women blushed, their gazes boring into Leo
disdainfully.
But
Julian didn’t really want the truth revealed
so easily. He needed the cover of the wager under which to make his
inquiries.
“I’m
looking forward to the challenge of
discovering the truth—and your motives,” Leo said.
“That intrigues me most of
all.”
Rebecca
pulled her cap back on her head, hiding
the rich sable of her hair. “Now that you’ve had
your amusement, step out of
our way.”
The
cap shadowed her face, leaving her full lips
highlighted in a slash of light. Julian found himself far too aroused.
Before
he could do something foolish—like claim her with a kiss
before everyone—he
stepped aside.
But
instead of marching past him, she led her
sister and cousin back to the painting.
“What
do you think you’re doing?” Julian
demanded in disbelief as they put their hands on the frame.
“Taking
what is ours,” she answered without
looking at him.
“The
club purchased the painting from the artist
quite legally,” he pointed out.
“It
wasn’t meant to be here at all,” Elizabeth
said, frustration evident in her frown.
“You
meant it to be in a private collection,”
Peter said slowly. “That makes sense, Elizabeth, with your
brother being who he
is. But you miscalculated.”
“You
all miscalculated,” Julian amended.
“Susanna,
spell that for me,” Leo called.
She
ignored his drunken teasing.
“Surely
you do not want every man to see this
during your wager,” Rebecca said. “What if others
hatch similar ideas?”
“You
should have thought of that before you
posed.” Julian wondered if anyone else had recognized the
diamond from the
portrait—or from around her exquisite neck one night at a
ball. Or perhaps no
one cared any longer about a maharajah’s gift, he thought
bitterly. It gleamed
above both of them now in the lamplight. Why had she been so foolish as
to wear
it in public?
Because
she’d thought her secret well hidden in
France.
With
a toss of her head, Rebecca demanded, “And
what do we get if none of you can determine the truth?”
“So
you’re going to play an active part in our
wager?” Julian asked, intrigued by the possibilities. Why was
he so eager to
see this young woman—and she was surely several years younger
than he—openly
participate in something that could surely ruin her?
But
of course, she’d already risked all of that,
posing nude for endless hours. He found himself envying the artist and
wondering at their relationship. Tamping down his interest, he reminded
himself
to focus on the diamond.
“Why,
you’ll win the
painting, of course,” Leo responded before Julian could.
Julian
couldn’t imagine surrendering it, but it
was too late.
“Let
me understand this,” Rebecca said, eyes
narrowed. “The three of you are wagering with each other over
who the model is.
If you cannot discover the truth, then we win the painting.”
“Correct,”
Julian said, his mind continuing to
calculate the best way to use this ridiculous wager to his advantage.
“Surely
we must include the element of time.”
Rebecca glanced with speculation at her friends, and then at the men.
“You have
a week to name the true model, gentlemen, presenting substantial proof
and not
just a guess.”
“Ridiculous,”
Leo scoffed. “A week is not nearly
enough time. We need until the end of the Season.”
“No,”
she countered. “I’ll counter with one
month, but nothing more.”
Julian
exchanged a look with his two friends,
and then bowed his agreement. It would give him enough time to follow
the clues
to the Scandalous Lady and clear his father’s name. But it
couldn’t bring his
father back from the dead, Julian thought grimly.
The
three women marched past them. Sharing a
glance, the three men followed, then leaned over the balustrade as the
women
descended to the ground floor and out the door.
Leo
grinned. “Now that was an enjoyable
evening.” He glanced at Julian. “You surprise me,
old friend.”
And
they were friends, Julian thought, even as
he shrugged. Julian had been forced to leave Eton at ten years of age,
when his
father could no longer pay the tuition. Though he was a future earl,
his
poverty had many boys—and then men—ignoring him,
until he’d made himself into a
man who couldn’t be ignored.
But
Leo hadn’t cared about money. He’d still
invited Julian home with him at holidays and had still visited him,
putting up
with the chaos of Julian’s too-large family.
Peter’s friendship had come later,
when Julian had sensed that the man needed help finding a place for
himself as
a younger son with little to recommend him. Peter had taken giant
strides in
learning to invest, and had become a partner in several of
Julian’s railways.
They
had felt connected, and now they were so
again by the risky challenge of three women who seemed determined to
skirt the
boundaries of ruination.
Leo
clapped them both on the back. “May the best
man win.”
Julian
felt as if a spring breeze had blown
through his life, awakening him from a dark winter, challenging him in
a way
he’d thought long in his past.
Thanks
to Rebecca Leland, he would solve a
family mystery, clear his father’s name—and spend
time seducing the secrets
from a beautiful woman.
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