Simply Scandalous Read Online Free PDF

were nearly wrenched from their
sockets, but the chestnuts skidded to a stop. One
twisted its neck around to look at her reproachfully.
The other snorted and pawed the ground.
    Swale could not believe his good fortune. He had
once shot and killed a six-point stag at a distance of
thirty yards, an impossible shot everyone in the hunting-box that year had agreed, but pulling ahead
of Cary Wayborn's chestnuts on the road to Southend would undoubtedly surpass even that sublime
moment. He drew a deep breath, a man on the
brink of history, and urged his horses to the right,
the better to take the inside of the turn.

    Juliet saw the move and instantly released the chestnuts, turning them onto the Southend Road and
cutting off Swale's advantage so swiftly that Swale, who
was in danger of driving off the road entirely, overcompensated to the left, grazed her back wheels,
and nearly overturned.
    The curricle righted itself, and Swale, cursing vociferously, backed his grays and turned them toward
Southend. But there was now no chance of him overtaking the chestnuts, let alone passing them. All that
could be seen of Wayborn and his chestnuts was a
cloud of dust. It was to his credit that he arrived in
Southend only five minutes after Juliet did.
    Her back was aching, and her throat was full of
dust. A crowd had gathered in the seaside town of
Southend to see the finish of the race, and more were
arriving from London every moment. There could
be no quiet escape for the victor, she realized, almost
too tired to care. Undoubtedly, her deception would
be discovered, and she would be disgraced; however,
Lord Swale would also be exposed and humiliated, and
that was her main object. When his part in the shameful attack on Cary became known, every respectable
family in England would give him the cut. Marquess
or not, he would feel the wrath of the English Ton.
    That would come later. What mattered now was
that she not be dragged bodily from the curricle
and carried away upon the shoulders of a half-dozen
admiring young men to the nearest tavern, as several in the crowd were threatening to do. The moment
the curricle was opened, her skirts would be seen, and
her secret would be out. On the whole, she preferred to expose herself in a more dignified manner.

    Lord Swale himself provided her with the opportunity. Upon arriving in Southend, his lordship leaped
from his curricle, screaming, "You, sir, ought to be
horsewhipped! You damned near killed my horses,
you bloody cheat! "
    The favorable impression he had made before the
race was gone entirely. Here, she thought smugly, is the
real Lord ,Swale. No friendly lion, no simple country lad
with a lopsided, innocent smile. Rather, an ugly, villainous barbarian-a Viking raider, in fact, hell-bent on
mayhem and bloody slaughter for all the world to see.
    Alexander Devize tried to hold him back, but Swale
could not be held. His green eyes were blazing, and
his complexion, always ruddy, now appeared to be covered with a particularly nasty case of nettlerash.
    "Wayborn! What the devil do you mean by coming
to a full stop in the middle of the road like bloody
Balaam's ass?" he roared. "I call it devious and underhanded, and by God, sir, you will bloody well
answer for it!"
    At first shocked to hear such language, Juliet was
fortified by the sudden appearance of Bernard and
Mr. Calverstock, who had both ridden hard from
London, arriving just behind Lord Swale. Both men
gathered around her protectively. "How dare you, sir?"
Stacy shrieked back, and, despite the fact that he
sounded a bit like her aunt, Lady Elkins, Juliet was
quite proud of him.
    Lord Swale seemed ready to drag Stacy Calverstock from his horse and beat him with his fists, but
Mr. Devize intervened. `Just give Wayborn his money, old man," he said reasonably, and it pained Juliet to
see that such a fine young gentleman from such an
impeccable old Suffolk family had been so completely taken in