Seduce Me Please

by Nichole Matthews

  “Your acerbic remarks are growing tiresome, Piper. With each remark spewed from your mouth I’m beginning to now comprehend your lack of a husband. They are probably scared that you will cut them with your sharp tongue.” Chester rolled his eyes, glancing at the ormolu clock on the mantel. “Are Parker and Peyton not joining us this afternoon?”

  “How humorous you find yourself.” Piper drawled. “They have been holed up in Parker’s study all morning,” Piper replied with a shrug. “I have no idea what their plans are for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “I have heard Peyton’s being watched like a hawk. Parker’s not very pleased with the appalling rumors traveling from Kent.”

  That brought Piper’s head up. “Chester,” she hissed with a quick glance towards Miss Harris and Auntie Adele.

  “What?” he whispered back with mock innocence.

  …………………………………………….

  Meanwhile in the study, Parker, the Marquis of Ashford sighed and ran his fingers through his dark curls, disturbing them considerably. “Just what are you trying to accomplish with these games you are playing?” Well over six foot, dark wavy brown hair, and the same piercing blue eyes as the rest of the Peregrine siblings. Handsome and with the death of his father almost four years ago, the title Marquis of Ashford, he was a considerable prize to be won. “Is this all an attempt to deliberately irritate me?”

  Peyton squirmed under Parker’s all-too-perceptive gaze, hastily looking away to stare intently at the paneled wooden walls. “You act as if I require your sanctions before I even step foot out of the house.”

  “Audley Ballantine has obviously become a corrupt influence on you, judging by this so-called club you are both determined to sponsor.” His features lined with disappointment. “You do not require my permission to live your life, Peyton.” Parker clenched his hand firmly around his tumbler. “But must you be so blatant with your pursuits?”

  “It’s all purely for our own amusements, Parker,” Peyton said with a touch of defiance, gesturing with his hand. “Besides, it’s not as if we are deliberately airing our wicked pursuits to the whole of the ton.” He took a seemingly casual draw on his cigarillo. “I’m of age, Parker. You have no right to put restrictions on what I do with my life.” Peyton was the second son, excessively wealthy and extremely spoiled. Five years older than the twins, he had the same golden blond hair as his mother and Poppy, the youngest of the twins. He was also rich in his own right. He had inherited a substantial fortune from their grandfather as well as his own country estate in Kent. This was the same location where the rumored lavish, if not lascivious house parties were being hosted throughout the year. These were the same rumored parties that were beginning to be of great concern for the marquis.

  “I realize you are of age and I also realize you have your own funds to do with as you will.” His bright blue eyes travelled across the desk to where his brother was slouching. Resting his chin on his steepled fingers, Parker continued gravely. “But you are presently displaying a shocking disregard for the damage these salacious tales can have on those closest to you—namely your sister.”

  Peyton blanched at his brother’s disapproval. “There is no occasion for you to speak so roughly, dear brother,” he replied stiffly, directing a brooding stare towards Parker with his arms spread wide. “Can you not be prevailed upon to have a little fun every once in a while? You act as if you are in your dotage.”

  “I am perfectly capable of finding amusements, my dear brother, when I deem them necessary.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “But my amusements are not what are in question,” Parker reiterated. He would be the first to admit that he didn’t value moral qualities as he should. If it hadn’t been for the death of his father, he would more than likely be lying in a warm bed with a different willing woman every night of the week, but he didn’t have that luxury any longer. He could not afford even the very appearance of impropriety. He had to uphold the Peregrine name and that of the Marquis of Ashford, even if it meant sacrificing his own pleasurable pursuits.

  “I had hoped that you could be prevailed upon to be a little more circumspect with—shall we say—your so called amusements.” He cast an imploring glance at his brother. “We do have Piper to see settled after all.”

  “What incentive were you planning to offer me to change my degenerate ways?”

  “I hope you do not assume my pleasant demeanor implies that this is open for a negotiation.” Parker kept his expression blank.

  Peyton looked extremely taken aback. “Of course I am cognizant of Piper’s marital state. I am fully aware that she has yet to find connubial bliss as our dear sister Poppy has happily done.” His voice deepened with amusement. “One less chit to worry about, I say. Moreover, it’s all strictly nonsense,” he said defensively, shaking his head. These diversions were a way for some of his friends to gather with their ladybirds and blow off some steam. So what if some thought they were sacrificing virgins or drinking blood. It added a little extra spice to the season and kept the matchmaking mamas at bay. “It’s not as if we dragged her along to partake in the amusements, Parker.” Peyton eyed his brother glaringly. “You’re being overbearing and a little ridiculous.”

  “Even you must be fully aware that she cannot in anyway become embroiled in any sort of a scandal that would put a stain on her currently pristine reputation until she is well and truly settled.” Parker reclined in his chair after his long tirade. “Once that has transpired you have my blessing to tarnish your reputation to the fullest. You can do whatever you wish.”

  “Piper is perfectly capable of fending for herself, or hadn’t you noticed?” Peyton leaned his head against the high back of the deep leather chair, a frown creasing his brow. “You act as if she were a fragile flower ready to wilt, as if she would swoon at the drop of a hat, as if she would collapse without your all-powerful assistance, but she is stronger than you give her credit.”

  “Piper’s strength is not being questioned at this time,” Parker said in a voice that brooked no argument, straightening rigidly in his chair. “Your predilections are what concern me. You’re establishing a certain reputation. Is this what you truly want? How you want to be perceived?”

  “I would never intentionally do anything to hurt Piper’s chances at happiness,” Peyton responded quickly, a stormy look upon his face.

  “How many times must I fend off the gossips when they feel it their solemn duty to bring to my attention the wild orgies you hold with all the young rakes at your home in Kent?”

  “For God’s sake, Parker, orgies?” Peyton’s attempt at hiding his emergent smirk was not very successful. “I…”

  Parker cut off his explanation with a wave of his hand. “Orgies, Peyton,” his voice dangerously quiet. “Even Aunt Adele has seen fit to bring these depraved activities to my attention.” He glanced at Peyton with a dark glint in his eyes. “Have you any inkling how uncomfortable it was for me to discuss these vulgar rumors with her? When the word orgy emerged from her mouth, I was sure I was having a stroke.”

  Peyton sat back solemnly. He knew when silence was best and he also knew when he had been bested by his brother.

  “Based on your well placed silence, I’m assuming we have an understanding?” Parker’s thunderous blue eyes locked with his brother’s.

  “Naturally,” Peyton agreed without enthusiasm. “I have no difficulty curtailing my amusements and being more circumspect until Piper is wed.” He knew full well that Parker would use any means necessary to put an end to his entertainments if he didn’t comply; so he was left with little choice. Tossing off the rest of his brandy he set his glass firmly on the table and crushed his burning cigarillo in the nearby ashtray.

  Peyton disengaged himself, and stood before bowing charmingly to his brother. “If you will excuse me, Parker, I must rest before I dress for the evening.” Holding back another emerging grin, he strode off in the direction of his suite to prepare for a night filled to bursting wi
th all varieties of more discreet depravities.

  Sitting back in his chair, Parker listened to Peyton’s receding footsteps. “Does no one have any discernment in this family?” he grumbled to the empty room while pouring himself another sizeable portion of brandy. “Thank God, Piper shows more decorum.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Is it even possible for a man whose reputation is well established to change?

  Piper’s journal

  29 May

  “I DO HOPE YOU HAVE BROUGHT some delicious bits of news to share this afternoon, Lord Chester,” Agnes beseeched, with a twinkle in her eye and an attractive flush to her cheeks. “We ladies are so deprived of the juiciest tidbits, it’s quite aggravating.”

  “Lady Agnes,” Chester drawled, his blue eyes gleamed at her humorously. “You continue to shock me on a daily basis.” His grin widened, rubbing his hands together with delight. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning forward in anticipation of a long, cozy chat with his dearest friends when a tap sounded on the door, interrupting their tête à tête.

  “Lord Perceval and Mr. Fulton,” the butler announced from the salon doorway.

  Agnes’ face fell at the inopportune intrusion. “Of all the luck, most unfortunate timing,” she murmured with a touch of impatience.

  “‘Tis surely to be expected when one is sitting in the most sought after salon in all of London.” Clearly amused, Chester sat back lazily on the settee with his ankle crossed over his knee.

  “You are quite abominable, dear Chester,” Piper said dryly, her hands clasped demurely in her lap before responding, “Thank you, Bertie.” She smiled.

  Chester caught her eye once more.

  Lord Perceval Gideon and Mr. Aubrey Fulton saw themselves as Piper’s potential suitors. Perceval, akin to almost every other aristocrat who had come before him, sought money and power from an alliance with his future bride. She could find no fault with him. After all, he was heir to a marquisette. His responsibility was to increase the family’s coffers with a favorable marriage and secure the title by supplying an heir. It was the way of their world. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Piper’s acquaintance with Mr. Fulton however, came by way of an introduction at her very first outing of the season. There was no question that he was handsome, but he was also young, much younger than Piper was comfortable envisaging as her future husband. Her preference tended to lean towards a gentleman with more life experiences. She certainly was not interested in someone straight from the schoolroom. Why, he barely looked as if he had whiskers.

  Chester frowned. “When did you become acquainted with Fulton?” he questioned, rubbing his chin. “His reputation ain’t at all the thing. He’s a mushroom, not at all the thing for you.” He almost pushed himself to a standing position in his agitation. “I cannot believe Ash would find him a proper suitor.”

  That statement brought Auntie Adele’s head up posthaste. She studied him through bright, intelligent eyes. “Whatever do you mean, Chester, not at all the thing?”

  Chester looked astutely at Lady Peregrine as he lowered himself to a seated position, then raised his brows. Flinging one leg over the other, he stared at her knowingly.

  “Rumors float around the ton about you as well, Chester, and I know for certain they are not all true.” Adele raised her brows. “Or am I mistaken?”

  “These particular rumors are different,” he replied vaguely.

  Piper did not bother to hide her curiosity. Her head swiveled, watching the volley of conversation between the two. Her brow furrowed with questions. What could be worse than a number of the rumors that were bandied about Parker and Peyton? Although she couldn’t recall hearing any rumors of any significance about Chester, now she was curious. What could those rumors possibly be? They couldn’t be too serious or the duke would have Chester’s hide. Ah…maybe that is why she hadn’t heard any, perhaps the duke saw them buried. Her grandfather was quite influential. She watched Chester through narrowed eyes, her mind working a mile a minute trying to come up with any salacious gossip that she could attribute to her cousin.

  “Ah, I see.” Adele returned her eyes back to the letters she was penning. “I must have a word with Parker straightaway. I cannot have my niece courted by incongruous suitors.”

  Piper sat twisting her sapphire locket while observing the interaction between her dearest acquaintances with interest; sitting back she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Not once did any of them bother to gain her opinion of the situation. All assuming she would be unable to make a wise decision without the intervention of the marquis.

  How belittling.

  “What do you see, Lady Peregrine?” Miss Harris questioned absently, head bowed over her embroidery. “Ought I to be concerned?”

  “Of course not, Miss Harris,” Adele quickly responded, directing a mildly questioning glance towards Chester, not even bothering to include Piper in her glance.

  “He is new to Town, he is not a suitor.” Piper adamantly shook her head, laughing. “Lady Rothingham introduced us at the Salisbury musicale and now I believe he fancies himself in love with me, but I see no urgent need to be concerned.” Piper blew out a sigh, relieved that she would only have to bear his company for a quarter hour. “He was introduced by a reputable acquaintance. What should I have done? Snubbed the man? That would have been unforgivably rude.” She paused for a breath, shooting an inquiring look at Auntie Adele, then returned her eyes back to Chester. “Why? Do either of you know something of the man that would sway my good opinion? Parker has not barred him from the house, what am I to do?” She sat quietly for a moment when suddenly a mischievous smirk appeared upon her face. She tapped her chin playfully, suddenly raising her finger theatrically in the air. “I know. I should run like a bedlamite from the room, as if I’m a raging lunatic, screeching loudly as I dash directly to my room each time he calls.”

  Chester immediately scowled. “This noticeable sarcasm does not become you, Piper.” Trying to hide his smile behind his hand, he opened his newly acquired snuff-box and held a miniscule pinch to one nostril. “The acidulous attitude you have been favoring lately is quite unattractive. It is becoming rather wearying.”

  Piper looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Chester.” Sometimes life itself proved an immensely tiresome business, she thought. Her irritation surmounting her good nature with each moment that passed.

  “His face is quite handsome,” Agnes interjected wistfully in an attempt to ease the mounting tension.

  “And whose face are you speaking of?” Piper giggled and threw Agnes a teasing glance. “Lord Perceval?”

  “You know perfectly well, Piper, that I am not discussing Lord Perceval’s face.” Agnes frowned. “Why he’s fifty, if he’s a day! And I am not so desperate that I must resort to being courted by someone more my father’s age.” Piper watched the visible shudder pass over her friend.

  “You should be concerned with other attributes when discussing the possibility of a future husband, Agnes. Looks are not the whole lot.” A slight smile flickered across Chester’s mouth; he looked lazily at Agnes, but directed his comment to Piper. “Never fear, my dear cousin. Parker would never allow you to throw yourself away on this—parvenu.”

  “I should have known you would say something attempting to provoke. It’s not as if I have set my cap at the man,” Piper assured him, unperturbed.

  “I declare,” Auntie Adele chuckled. “You two argue like a couple of cats and dogs.”

  Chester again opened his Mother of Pearl and gilt snuff-box and held a pinch of Havana to one nostril sneezing immediately, almost violently into the paltry scrap of linen and lace he carried; which had most certainly been created more for fashion and less for function if one considered the almost transparent material.

  Piper pulled a face, reaching into her pocket to pull out a more substantial square of linen, at the same time hurling a disgusted look towar
ds her cousin. “Please don’t say you have taken up that vile habit.” Her nose wrinkled as she offered him her own handkerchief.

  Delicately he swiped at his nose, frowning before waving away her offering. “The prince takes snuff,” he muttered.

  “And he is the example you are choosing to follow?” Piper asked incredulously. She was finding it difficult to resist the urge to strangle him. Looking at Agnes, Piper stated, “And men believe women to be ignorant. I wager if the prince walked down Piccadilly with a chamber pot perched jauntily atop his head, I believe the entire population of men in London would quite happily begin leaving their homes wearing one as a hat. Unbelievable.”

  “Piper, do behave.” Agnes smiled sweetly. “You have acquired a handsome snuff-box Chester.”

  “I agree, Agnes.” Chester sent her a friendly smile, quite pleased to hear her compliment and eager to turn the conversation to something more pleasant. “‘Tis a pretty little thing, ain’t it?” He flicked open his snuff-box once again this time taking a more diminutive pinch.

  Finally heavy-booted steps were heard clomping down the hall. Piper straightened, taking a deep, calming breath before she turned her troubled eyes towards her cousin. “Chester?” Her clenched hands pressed firmly in her lap, her nails cutting into her palm. She felt as if she was girding her loins, preparing herself for battle instead of a quarter-hour of polite conversation over tea. Removing her spectacles, she hid them discretely behind the objet d’art on the table next to her.

  “I will make certain Parker is apprised of his suit directly after tea,” Chester murmured as Fulton entered the room. “Not at all the thing. Not at all.” He frowned at Piper, shutting his snuff-box with a well-practiced flick of his finger.