A Sinful Temptation

  A SINFUL TEMPTATION

  Kelly Boyce

  THE SINS & SCANDALS SERIES

  Three gentleman friends are forced into marriages in recompense for their past sins and scandals. One must marry for redemption, the other for money, and the last for honor.

  Book 1: AN INVITATION TO SCANDAL

  Book 2: A SCANDALOUS PASSION

  Book 3: A SINFUL TEMPTATION

  Mr. Marcus Bowen, former ward and now trusted man of business to the Marquess of Ellesmere, has returned from the brink of death after surviving a knife-wielding thief only to have his perfectly ordered life fall into chaos. A mysterious package arrives and reveals his past is nothing but a lie. To add make matters worse, the woman he once shared a passionate, ill-fated kiss with insists he help her capture a proposal from another man—a man far more befitting her station than the son of servants.

  The dictates of her father’s will are clear—Lady Rebecca Sheridan must put away her childhood fantasies of Marcus Bowen and marry the very proper Lord Selward. A feat she must accomplish before her next birthday or watch as her family fortunes are forfeited. When Lord Selward drags his feet on a proposal, Rebecca grows desperate and turns to the one man she trusts above all others for assistance—Marcus. But Rebecca soon learns how easily unspoken passions can be re-ignited, and how thin the line between love and friendship can be.

  As Marcus works to unravel the mystery of his past and discover his true identity, can he ignore the sinful temptation Lady Rebecca presents? Or will long-ignored desires and well-buried secrets bring them both to the brink of ruin, destroying any hope of a happy future?

  Dedication

  To my second grade teacher at West Side Elementary School, Mrs. Phyllis Matheson, wherever you are—thank you for starting this journey with your little box of plots. I guess all that daydreaming paid off in the end.

  Chapter One

  A pox on the man’s fickle heart.

  It was the worst kind of luck to discover your intended’s affections had drifted elsewhere.

  Or rather your intended intended’s. Lord Selward hadn’t actually proposed as yet and, at the rate they were going, would not any time soon if drastic measures were not implemented. But what kind of drastic measures? Unfortunately subterfuge and machinations were not her strong suit.

  Lady Rebecca Sheridan huffed out a breath and let her shoulders roll forward for only a moment before reinstating her posture. It would not do to be seen slumped over like a hunchback.

  A proper lady comports herself in a dignified manner. Mrs. Dunbar’s voice echoed in her mind even though her comportment instructor had passed on over two years ago. Likely she busied herself instructing the angels now, taking them to task for not holding their wings just so.

  Not that anything Mrs. Dunbar taught her had proved useful this day. Did Lord Selward think she attended Lady Perth’s annual tea to partake in the gossip about Rosalind Caldwell’s latest social gaffe—the third this week for those keeping count—or to nibble on overly sugared biscuits and sip tepid tea? No, she had come for the specific purpose of garnering his attention. Attention, he apparently preferred to lavish upon his gaggle of cronies than on her.

  For Heaven’s sake, must she jump onto her chair and wave her arms in the air to recapture his notice? If nothing else, it would give the gossips something new to titter about so they might leave poor Miss Caldwell alone, though Rebecca did not particularly care to take up the reins in that regard. Nor did she care to have her name mentioned in the scandal sheets.

  Poor Father would roll over in his grave.

  Rebecca pressed her gloved hands against the skirt of her new jade colored afternoon dress then kicked her feet out to stare at the pretty row of pink rosebuds embroidered into the hem. She’d had it made especially for this event, certain it would do the trick and catch Lord Selward’s eye. The soft green made her silvery eyes stand out and gave her ivory skin a warm tone. Nancy had even styled her hair into a whimsical, yet intricate design—no easy feat given the length and thickness of her locks. Many of the other ladies had begun to shorten their hair, but Rebecca had often been told her inky black waves were her crowning glory and it seemed a little silly to rid herself of it for something as fleeting as fashion. Besides, Lord Selward had once complimented her on her hair and well…well.

  She sighed again.

  Hope. Such an irritating emotion. She had coasted on it for far too long.

  At one and twenty, with her third Season on the verge of ending, the time to make good on Father’s last wishes ran frighteningly short. Her next birthday loomed only a few months away. If Lord Selward didn’t make good on his earlier attentions and propose, all would be lost.

  Not that he had necessarily indicated he planned to make an offer, but a proposal had appeared promising based on his behavior, and surely that could be construed as almost the same thing. Could it not?

  She had thought so, once upon a time.

  Of course, once upon a time she had thought herself in love with him. Father’s promotion of the pairing had been the icing on the cake. Perhaps that had something to do with the dictates of his will, though at the time she’d had no clue as to the late Lord Blackbourne’s intentions. Father did not discuss such matters with her. It wasn’t until after his death she’d become aware of his intentions as to whom she should marry. Father had always possessed a rather closed mind when it came to women and their capacity for understanding important matters. It had irritated her to no end, but she’d held her tongue in that regard. There had been enough strife in her family without adding more to the heap.

  Regardless, because of the stipulations of Father’s will, here she sat wishing for all the world that a man she no longer held an affection for would hurry up and propose. That she did not particularly want to marry him hardly mattered. The fact was, she needed to. Quickly.

  “My dear, if you continue to sigh in such a manner, I am going to question whether or not you’ve sprung a leak.”

  Rebecca glanced up at her mother. “I simply don’t understand why he will not come over. He has done nothing more than say hello since we arrived. Do you think he has truly passed me over for Lady Susan?”

  The thought sickened her. After all, the only possible attribute Lady Susan possessed that one could consider even remotely positive was that her father was the Duke of Franklyn. Rumor had it his coffers were richer than the King’s. An exaggeration perhaps, though given that both Lady Susan and her mother, Lady Franklyn, were known to spend enough on fripperies alone to bankrupt Croesus, not much of one.

  Mother reached over and patted Rebecca’s clenched hands. “My dear, there is no reason we cannot take a turn about the garden and perhaps speak to some other gentlemen. There are any number waiting for you to show them some attention.”

  Rebecca gave her mother a sharp look. “I do not have time to encourage another gentleman, Mother. The Season is over in a few weeks!” She had not put all this work into capturing Lord Selward’s attentions to simply give up now and start over with someone new. It was Lord Selward or…poverty.

  “It is not as bad as all that,” her mother said.

  Rebecca gave her a dubious look. It was her mother who sighed this time. It was that bad, no matter how hard they tried to deny it.

  The stipulations in Father’s will were clear. She must marry a titled lord, or the first son of a titled lord, before her twenty-second birthday. If not, the entirety of their family’s unentailed properties and income would transfer to a woman none of them had even known existed until Father’s solicitor read the will to them following his death.

  Mother glanced in the direction of Lord Selward and his group of friends. “But why this particular gentleman, dear? There are
so many others to choose from and I cannot say I am pleased with Lord Selward’s reticence at courting you properly.”

  “Lord Selward could hardly court me while we were in mourning. It would not have been proper. And Nicholas’s scandalous behavior did not help matters, either. Lord Selward dislikes scandal of any kind.”

  “Your brother is now married and a respectable member of society.” Mother’s voice took on a defensive tone, as it often did when Nicholas’s name was mentioned. Not that Rebecca blamed her. For the longest time, Mother had been her brother’s sole champion. Heaven knew, Father had never been in his corner. “Is your affection for him so strong? I want you to be happy above all else.”

  Rebecca twisted her fingers around each other. She disliked lying to her mother. But neither did she care to have her worry about her daughter’s future happiness. But how could she be happy knowing her failure to marry properly cast them both in the role of impoverished relative? Oh, Nicholas and Abigail would never see it that way. They would embrace them with all the love and kindness her brother and sister-in-law had always shown them. But she would see it that way. And Mother would as well. Neither cared to be a burden.

  “Of course my affection for him is strong.” She crossed her fingers. Not necessarily a lie. After all, she did harbor an affection. The only issue being said affection was not for Lord Selward, but another.

  Not that it mattered. Not now. Not when they stood on the precipice of losing everything. Clearer heads must prevail and matters of the heart must be set aside. It was just the way of it.

  A butterfly flitted next to her and landed gently on the flowering petals of a bright pink peony. Its wings batted slowly as it rested there for a moment before flying off again. Oh, to have that kind of freedom. How many times in the past year had she wished she could do just that? But reality kept her feet planted firmly on the earth, facing forward, the imminent future staring back at her in all its uninspiring glory.

  Oh dear Heaven. Did she just sigh again? She attempted to focus on the positive in the hopes of convincing her mother. And herself.

  “Lord Selward is a handsome man.” Truth. He was, in fact, more handsome than many other gentlemen of his age and status. Was that not what first attracted her, after all? That her initial attraction had been nothing more than a fleeting infatuation of a young girl in her first Season did not bear mentioning, as it served no purpose now.

  Mother took a sip of her tea and made a face, glaring at the lukewarm liquid as if it had greatly offended her. “A handsome face is well enough, but it will not sustain a marriage.”

  Rebecca hesitated. Mother held the foolish notion that one should marry for love. A wonderful thought. Warm and lovely and exactly what Rebecca had hoped for when her first Season began. But that had been almost three years ago. Perhaps, if luck prevailed, affection would grow between them over time.

  Her gaze fell upon a wilted marigold, wizened by the sun and chewed upon by insects until what remained of its petals were pockmarked and browning. Was this what her heart would look like over time? She quickly looked away. Such thoughts were better not dwelled upon.

  “He is a perfectly respectable gentleman.” Rebecca forced enthusiasm into her words. “He is polite and handsome and well-dressed.” All true, but sadly, not very interesting and none of which made her heart go pitter-pat. Or even just pitter, for that matter. As it turned out, she found Lord Selward remarkably dull. She had lost count of how many conversations they’d had about the weather.

  Mother pursed her lips and turned her gaze back to Rebecca. “The cut of his jacket is all well and good, but all it signifies is his ability to pick a proper tailor. You will need more than that to build a good life together.”

  “Is that how you chose Father? By his character?” She winced. Curse her fool tongue! She should not have said that. She had loved her father, but she was not blind to his faults, and he’d had many. Most of all his inability to love his wife and son the way he had his daughter. It made for a rather lop-sided household, where not everyone loved the other and yet everyone loved her.

  “Your father was selected for me and I will not insult your intelligence by telling you it was a happy union. You know well it was not. It’s why I wish you to determine who you will marry without my interference, but a bad choice of husband can be made regardless of who does the picking. I would counsel you to choose wisely, for once you do, you are committed for life.”

  A lifetime with Lord Selward. A lifetime of conversations revolving around the blueness of the sky and whether or not they might see some rain.

  She forced a smile. “I can think of no one I would rather spend my life with.” Yet even as the words were said, another face tormented her mind. Her memory. She pushed it away and focused her attention back where it belonged. “I just don’t know why he seems so entranced with Lady Susan of late. She is not fair to look upon and her personality is even less pleasing. How can he even consider her?” A man of Lord Selward’s temperate disposition would be eaten alive by Lady Susan’s caustic nature.

  Mother set her teacup aside on a small table Lady Perth has set out for guests and opened her fan, waving it lightly beneath her chin. The motion caught the tendrils of her blonde hair where it framed her pretty face. “I expect it is her dowry and family connections he is entranced with, not whether she is fair of face. One can do much with the first two and only need blow out the candles to live with the last.”

  “Mother!” Truly, ever since Father died her mother had taken to making the most audacious statements.

  Mother gave her a wicked smile and it struck Rebecca how young she appeared, as if she had come into a second bloom now that Father no longer held dominance over her.

  Rebecca shook her head. “How am I to compete with the daughter of a duke?”

  “You are a beautiful and accomplished lady, my dear. Do not forget that. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  Accomplishments. She refrained from rolling her eyes. What accomplishments did she have that a gentleman would be interested in? Her aptitude at needlepoint? Her lifelike sketches? Hardly earth shattering. She enjoyed reading on any number of subjects and discussing opinions on philosophy and politics and poetry, but she could count on one hand the number of gentlemen who indulged her interest in such things, or believed a woman should possess it. Most men of her station wanted a wife with a pleasing face, a significant dowry and the ability to breed. Nothing more.

  “Oh! He’s coming over!” She tapped her mother’s arm with her fan before snapping it open and waving it beneath her chin. “Smile, Mother!”

  Rebecca sat up straighter and adopted a serene expression, glancing far enough away from Lord Selward to give the appearance she had not been sitting there waiting for his attention. It would not do to appear desperate. Even men as uninspiring as Lord Selward liked a bit of a chase.

  Lord Selward arrived in front of them and executed a perfect bow. “Lady Blackbourne, Lady Rebecca, I hope you are enjoying the lovely weather. I am certain Lady Perth has made a pact with the Devil himself, as she always seems to have the best day for her tea.”

  Mother inclined her head politely, though she could have put a little more warmth into it, in Rebecca’s estimation. Their future depended on it, after all. “The weather is most enjoyable, Lord Selward.”

  “And Lady Rebecca, you are even more beautiful than the weather.”

  Even in complimenting her, the man managed to reference the weather. Sweet Heaven. Could he not have compared her to the lovely flowers in the garden or perhaps referenced her quick wit, which her brother claimed she possessed? Though, in Lord Selward’s defense, he had never actually witnessed said wit. How did one make an amusing anecdote about the clouds in the sky, after all? “Thank you, Lord Selward. I am having the most wonderful time. And you?”

  She lowered her fan slightly and smiled. She had been told on several occasions she possessed a radiant smile. Maybe if she used it more often she could entice
him to forget all about Lady Susan and her ridiculously large dowry and family connections.

  He blinked, then smiled back. A good sign. “I am enjoying myself very much, yes.”

  “And your mother? I hope the Countess is enjoying herself as well?” His mother rarely spent much time in society. Her husband, the Earl of Walkerton, lived abroad, rarely returning to London. In fact, Rebecca could not remember a time when she had even met the man. His implied rejection of his family decades ago left many curious, but no explanation had ever been forthcoming, though most, it seemed, were happy to see him absent.

  Thankfully, his eldest son did not share any of his father’s disagreeable traits. He doted on his mother and busied himself with running his father’s estates as one day they would be his own. He steered clear of scandal, did not attach himself to unsavory dealings or shenanigans, nor caused any type of uproar in the House of Lords. When she looked at it like that, she could almost convince herself she could eventually feel something for him.

  Almost.

  “Lady Walkerton is well and indicated she found the fare provided quite hearty.”

  Rebecca had visited the Countess on several occasions with Mother and could not claim to have found her very pleasing. She possessed an angry disposition and spent more time eating biscuits than partaking in conversation with her guests. Perhaps her husband’s defection had made her bitter.

  “I am happy to hear she enjoys herself. Will you both be attending Lady Berringsford’s fete tomorrow evening? Mother and I were just talking about—”

  “Oh! I daresay, is that Lady Susan?”

  “Is that—” Rebecca’s eyes widened at his sudden interruption. “I beg your pardon?”

  “No, it is I who beg yours. Lady Blackbourne, Lady Rebecca, would you excuse me? I really should give my regards.”