A Common Scandal by Amanda Weaver Page B

she read about, but she never did. In every case, all she had to say about the experience was “awkward, fumbling and distressingly damp.” None of those words applied to Nate’s kiss. There’d been nothing uncertain about the way he’d grabbed her and hauled her up against him. Nothing fumbling about the way his mouth had covered hers, coaxing her lips open and exploring her with his tongue. And there might have been dampness, but it was far from unpleasant. It was amazing how simply thinking about his kiss could cause her entire body to respond.
    And now she was all but blushing and she’d missed everything Julia had said. With a monumental effort she dragged her eyes away from Nate and forced them back to Julia. It didn’t matter, however, because in moments Nate had crossed the room to join them and now she couldn’t help but look at him, so tall and broad and looming over her.
    “Lady Julia. Miss Wheeler. How delightful to see you both again.”
    “Hello, Mr. Smythe. I’ve been discussing Portsmouth’s harbor with Miss Wheeler. Do join us. I’m sure you, in particular, would have a great deal to contribute to our conversation.”
    Amelia shot him a desperate glance, beseeching him with her eyes. Nate smirked. He bloody smirked, the insufferable rascal.
    “I think the others are heading upstairs to freshen up. However, I’d love to tell you all I know about the harbor later this evening, Lady Julia. Perhaps your father might like to join us.”
    Amelia looked from Nate to Julia, and suddenly Nate’s particular interest in Lady Julia made perfect sense. He was after her father’s company. She was relieved to an embarrassing degree that his interests were so mercenary. It was the ships, not the girl, he was after.
    “I’d rather talk to you all by myself,” Julia replied, smiling up at him.
    And then it dawned on her—it didn’t matter what Nate’s motives in pursuing her were. Whether he was driven by money or true love, if he was successful, the outcome would be the same. He’d marry Lady Julia. She watched them smiling at each other with their shared moment and fought down the tangle of unpleasant emotions making themselves known. Whatever lay behind this alliance, she was clearly closed out of it.
    She drew herself up straight and looked around the room. Hadn’t Radwill arrived? Nate was pursuing a spouse for purely practical reasons? Well, so was she, and hiding away with Julia wasn’t getting the job done.
    “Yes, it does look as if everyone is going upstairs,” she said, a bit too loudly.
    “Lady Julia?” Nate asked, extending his arm to her. “Might I escort you upstairs?”
    Julia threw him one of her unreadable smiles and laid her hand on his arm. “Yes, of course you may. Amelia, I’ll see you before dinner?”
    Amelia looked from Julia to Nate and back again. “You certainly will.”
    Amelia escorted herself upstairs.

Chapter Seven
    Nate gave himself a last examination in the mirror. As a rule, he didn’t care much about his appearance—he didn’t even employ a valet—but the men he was about to mingle with downstairs most certainly did care, and they’d be looking for anything lacking in him. Every detail was perfect: a Savile Row evening suit—the same tailor who dressed Prince Edward—neatly combed hair and a close shave. When he spoke, it was with the same cultured accent of every gentleman in the room. In a crowd, no one should be able to mark him out as a lowly sailor’s son. But somehow the aristocracy always knew.
    Growing his company had taught him a few things about the business world and how to get things done. Purchasing ships and drumming up contracts in the European ports had been, in retrospect, fairly easy. He’d done it on his own, and in many respects, he’d succeeded admirably. But whenever he paused to consider the growth of Smythe Shipping, Royal Eastern was there, a mile ahead of him. Royal Eastern managed to scoop up several lucrative government