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How to Seduce a Scoundrel

Page 19

by Vicky Dreiling


  “If the weather holds up, I’m hoping to take you for that ride in the park you promised me,” he said.

  It had rained every afternoon the past week. “Yes, of course,” she said.

  Amy and Georgette joined the group. “Sally wanted to come, but she has a cold,” Georgette said.

  “Little wonder with all this damp air,” Amy said.

  Georgette gave Julianne a speaking look. “We hoped you would take a turn with us.”

  She appealed to the gentlemen. “Will you excuse me? I’ve not seen my friends for days.”

  After Julianne rose, Georgette took her arm. “Let us find a place where we may have a private coze.”

  They minced about the room. Julianne saw Ramsey leaning against a pillar, staring at her. Alarmed, she squeezed Georgette’s arm. “Let us reverse direction. There is an adjoining drawing room with a pianoforte. We can pretend to be examining the music sheets while we gossip.”

  “Yes, you have much to tell us,” Georgette whispered.

  Julianne was relieved that no one else occupied the music room. She and Amy walked over to the pianoforte and set music sheets upon the polished top.

  Amy thumbed through the sheets. “This seems overly dramatic to me.”

  “It’s just a precaution,” Julianne said.

  Georgette closed the door. “Now we can speak without fear of listening ears. Julianne, you must give us news of the pamphlet. Did you finish?”

  When she told them that it would be published in two weeks, her friends took turns hugging her.

  Amy smiled. “I’m still a bit concerned, but you deserve praise for your accomplishment.”

  “I wish we could have a glass of champagne to celebrate,” Georgette said.

  “We cannot celebrate openly,” Julianne said. “No one must ever know I am the author.”

  “We would never breathe a word to anyone,” Georgette said.

  The door opened. When Lady Boswood entered, Julianne planted a serene smile on her face. Thank goodness, Georgette’s mother had not heard them speaking about the pamphlet.

  “Girls, what can you mean hiding behind a closed door like this?” Lady Boswood said in censorious tones.

  “We only wished to have a private coze, Mama,” Georgette said.

  “Georgette, do you wish others to remark upon your ill-mannered behavior?”

  “No, Mama,” she said.

  Lady Boswood frowned at the music sheets. “Were you planning to play?”

  “Um, we only wished to look at the music,” Georgette said.

  “Let us tidy up,” Julianne said in a rush. “Then we will join the others in the drawing room.”

  When they finished, Lady Boswood tapped her toe. “Georgette, you and Amy are dismissed. I wish to speak to Lady Julianne.”

  Julianne grew wary. Oh, dear God. Lady Boswood meant to give her a tongue-lashing for having told her mother that Ramsey was a rake.

  Georgette pleaded with her mother. “But, Mama, we have not seen Julianne—”

  “Georgette, do as you’re told,” Lady Boswood said.

  When Georgette and Amy left, Lady Boswood shut the door and invited Julianne to sit with her on the sofa. She gripped her hands hard. Drat it all, she’d not bargained for this confrontation.

  Lady Boswood let out a sigh. “Gel, I mean you no harm.”

  She did not trust Georgette’s mother and knew she must think carefully before speaking. With considerable effort, she forced herself to remain outwardly calm.

  “I am concerned about you,” Lady Boswood said. “I understand you are courting five gentlemen. I daresay your mother would not approve.”

  She almost reminded Lady Boswood that she’d allowed her daughter to participate in Tristan’s courtship with two dozen other belles but thought better of challenging the woman. “You are misinformed. They are only my friends.”

  Lady Boswood sniffed. “Lady Rutledge ought to have forbidden it.”

  “There is no impropriety,” she said. “Lady Rutledge is always present.”

  “Dear girl, you are not ignorant of Lady Rutledge’s bold manners. Everyone was shocked to learn that she was to be your sponsor.”

  “She has treated me very well,” Julianne said. She didn’t like it when others made disparaging remarks about Hester. Julianne found her honesty and pragmatism far more appealing than the false compliments and snippy barbs of most society matrons.

  “Of course, we must respect the elderly,” Lady Boswood said. “I’m sure Lady Hawkfield did not know how to refuse when her aunt offered to sponsor you. But as I predicted, matters have taken a turn for the worse.”

  Say nothing. Do not inadvertently give her ammunition.

  “As your mother’s friend, I will gladly take you into my home and sponsor you for the remainder of the season,” Lady Boswood continued. “What do you say? Surely you will enjoy my daughter’s company.”

  “I thank you for the offer, but I am quite content with my present circumstances,” Julianne said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must return. Hawk will worry if I am gone too long.”

  “Forgive my plain speech, but Lord Hawkfield is not a suitable guardian for you. His rakish reputation is well known. You cannot be unaware of it.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she was fully aware of Ramsey’s rotten reputation, but she thought better of introducing that topic. “My brother appointed him,” she said. “I do not question his judgment.” Of course, she’d implied that Lady Boswood had no right to do so, either.

  “We all know Hawk is a good friend to Shelbourne. But Hawk cannot give you the guidance you require, and his aunt is a bad influence. Tomorrow, I will send my carriage, and you will remove to my home.”

  “No, ma’am, I will not. I beg your pardon, but the matter is settled. If I require your guidance, I will call upon you.” When Satan lobs snowballs in hell.

  “If you fear giving insult to Lady Rutledge, I can easily take care of the matter,” Lady Boswood said. “She will understand when I tell her that my daughter begged to have you stay with her.”

  Lady Boswood had conveniently ignored Mama’s disapproval of Ramsey as a suitor. “My mother will not approve, and neither will Hawk.”

  “He has persuaded you that my son is disreputable, but he bases his opinion on the past. You know young men sow wild oats, but Henry has long outgrown his youthful follies. There are men, however, who never do.”

  Julianne noted she had stopped short of naming Hawk, but the insinuation was clear. “While I appreciate your concerns, I am perfectly capable of making my own judgments. Now I must beg your leave.”

  “One day, my son will be a marquess. He is prepared to offer you marriage, but you turn him away based upon Hawk’s word.”

  “He is my guardian, and I am under his protection.”

  “You do not even give my son a chance. Henry is in love with you.”

  She knew better, but no good would come of revealing Ramsey’s manipulation. “I have given him no encouragement. He deserves someone who can return his feelings.”

  “So do you, Julianne, but you stubbornly cling to an old attachment. And we both know of whom I speak.”

  Julianne looked straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge her thinly veiled reference to Hawk.

  “You have not called upon Georgette once this season,” Lady Boswood said. “Call on me tomorrow. I will take you and my daughter shopping and to Gunter’s for ices.”

  She hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to spend several hours with Lady Boswood, but she could not refuse the offer without seeming rude. While Julianne knew Hawk would not like it, she could not insult Georgette or her mother.

  Hawk stood near the adjoining music room, waiting for Julianne to come out. He’d been watching her all evening and had witnessed her escaping there with her friends thirty minutes ago. Then Lady Boswood had followed them inside. When Georgette and Amy had emerged without Julianne, Hawk had known Lady Boswood meant to make a plea for
her loathsome son’s suit.

  The entire time, Ramsey had stood at the back of the main drawing room, his anxious gaze darting to the music room.

  Hester ambled over to Hawk, her blue peacock feathers bobbing. “Lady Boswood still keeps her there, does she?”

  To hell with waiting. “I’m going to rescue her.”

  His aunt put a staying hand on his arm. “If you go in there, everyone will remark upon it. Let me take care of the matter. I know how to handle scheming women.”

  He nodded, knowing Hester was right.

  The door opened, startling him. Lady Boswood smiled sweetly as she led Julianne out. “I would ask you to sit with me, but I see that your guardian and Lady Rutledge are desirous of your company,” she said.

  Julianne’s expression turned wary, but she said nothing.

  “I look forward to your visit tomorrow,” Lady Boswood said.

  After she walked away, Hawk turned to Julianne. “What the devil?”

  “Marc, lower your voice,” Hester said. “Julianne, you are agitated. Did that dragon rake you over the coals?”

  Julianne hesitated. “She insisted upon providing me with guidance.”

  Hester snorted. “I wager she meant to persuade you that her son was a fine suitor.”

  Hawk met Julianne’s gaze. “You are not calling on Lady Boswood. Send your regrets tomorrow.”

  “I cannot escape calling on Lady Boswood any longer. Georgette is my friend, and there is nothing to worry about.”

  “I forbid it, and that is the end of the matter.”

  “I think we had better repair to my home so that we can resolve the matter in private,” Hester said.

  Hawk had no intention of debating endlessly with his aunt and Julianne.

  After they entered his aunt’s drawing room, Julianne perched upon the sofa next to Hester. He sat in the chair he ordinarily occupied and folded his arms over his chest. “I will make this brief. Julianne will send her regrets to Lady Boswood tomorrow. She is free to receive Lady Georgette here, but I refuse to allow her to set foot into the devil’s lair.”

  “Marc, you are being unreasonable,” Hester said. “I know you dislike Ramsey, but Julianne has every right to call on her friend. She cannot refuse Lady Boswood’s invitation without giving insult.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” he said. “I forbid it, and that is the end of the matter.”

  “Julianne has proven she is capable of managing Lady Boswood and Lord Ramsey,” Hester said. “She has dealt with them in a polite but firm manner. Any worries you may have are unfounded.”

  “I will not be persuaded,” he said. “The discussion is at an end. She will not go.”

  “You cannot stop me,” Julianne said.

  “Yes, I can. I will call my mother home from Bath. You will stay with her at Ashdown House. And to ensure that you abide by my rules, I will take up temporary residence there.”

  Her lips parted. “How could you be so cruel to your own mother when she is worried about your grandmamma?”

  “My sisters can look after my grandmother,” he said.

  “I see,” Hester said. “You do not trust me to care for Julianne.”

  “I warned you not long ago that I will not tolerate interference with my decisions. You have given me no choice,” he said.

  Hester turned to Julianne. “I am very sorry, dear, but I am powerless in this matter. He is your guardian, and though he has long been my favorite, I find his treatment of me insupportable.” She rose. “Marc, you will inform me when your mother arrives so that I can arrange for Julianne’s trunks to be packed and ready.”

  He stood as his aunt walked out of the room.

  “You are despicable,” Julianne said.

  “You have both pushed me too far.”

  “Lady Boswood will be delighted. She told me that Hester is unsuited to be my sponsor.” She pointed at herself. “I defended her.”

  His jaw worked. She insinuated that he had not done the same. “I stated my reasons. The matter is settled.”

  “You have not considered the consequences. Everyone will know that you dismissed Hester. Others will gossip about her. Would you humiliate her?” Julianne said.

  He stood and strode over to the mummy. How did she always manage to make him feel like a devil?

  The rustling of skirts alerted him. He turned around to find Julianne walking to the door. “Where are you going?”

  “Upstairs to comfort your aunt,” she said, her voice shaking. “I never believed you could be so cruel. And I will never speak to you again after this.”

  “How am I to do my duty when she refuses to cooperate?”

  Julianne marched right up to him. “Hang your duty. You ought to take her feelings into consideration. She adores you, and you hurt her.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Bloody hell. He’d lost his temper.

  “Do not bother writing to your mother,” Julianne said. “I will not leave Hester. You will have to cart me off kicking and screaming.”

  He smiled a little. “The servants would find that entertaining.”

  “You owe your aunt an apology.”

  “I won’t take you away,” he said gruffly. “But after what happened tonight, I cannot believe you wish to call on Lady Boswood. She manipulated you, and you know that she did so at the behest of her son. She knew you would not refuse her request on account of Georgette. Lady Boswood means to work on you again. Why would you willingly do her bidding?”

  Julianne looked miserable. “I don’t want to lose Georgette’s friendship.”

  “Blame me,” he said. “Tell her I’m a strict ogre and watch your every move.”

  “She will believe that,” Julianne muttered.

  He tugged on the curl by her ear.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  She used to laugh and swat his hand when he pulled her curl. But he’d managed to make an ass out of himself tonight and had hurt his aunt very badly. “Tell Hester I will call tomorrow.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Julianne.”

  “You were right about Lady Boswood,” she said. “I knew she meant to manipulate me. I will send my regrets first thing tomorrow.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A Scoundrel’s Code of Conduct: Be prepared to eat humble pie.

  The next afternoon, Julianne’s nerves grew taught as she sat with Hester in the drawing room. Hester’s drawn expression troubled her. She was tempted to reveal that Hawk had no intention of recalling his mother to Richmond, but she held her tongue. It was Hawk’s place to tell her.

  He had better apologize profusely.

  The butler entered and said he’d turned away the five gentlemen who usually called on Julianne. After he left, Julianne turned to Hester with a questioning look.

  Hester’s lips thinned. “Under the circumstances, I thought it best.”

  Julianne nodded. “Shall I ring for a tea tray?”

  “No, thank you,” Hester said. “I imagine this interview will be brief.”

  The dogs sat at Hester’s feet and whined. She patted the sofa. When they jumped onto her lap, she ruffled their fur and murmured to them.

  Julianne regarded her clasped hands. Although Hester had a large circle of friends, she lived alone and probably suffered from loneliness on occasion. Of course, she had Mr. Peckham, but Hester was very circumspect about their relationship. In public, she treated Mr. Peckham as a friend, probably because she knew others, especially family members, would disapprove of such an unequal match. Undoubtedly, they would think her too old for love.

  Julianne’s heart squeezed. It was so unfair, but she would not voice the words. Hester meant to keep the truth of her relationship with Mr. Peckham a secret, with good reason. Julianne recalled the barely concealed horror of Hawk’s mother and his sisters when Hester had volunteered to sponsor her. They did not know what a treasure they had in Hester.

  But she knew. She’d even begun to think of Hester as her own aunt.

  The mantel clock ch
imed the hour. It was four o’clock.

  Julianne twisted her hands. How could Hawk keep his aunt waiting when he knew she was overset? Thoughtless, horrid man to treat Hester so cruelly.

  She could not bear the silence any longer. “Hester, I believe we could use some diversion. Shall I read to you?”

  Hester petted the dogs. “Yes, thank you.”

  Julianne padded over to the bookcase and drew out Pride and Prejudice. When she returned to the sofa, she started at the beginning. “ ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.’ ”

  She’d reached the part where Mrs. Bennet scolded Kitty for coughing when the butler entered and announced Hawk. Julianne set the book aside and rose.

  He held his hands behind his back and approached his aunt with a solemn expression. Then he offered her a single, long-stemmed red rose. He looked a bit abashed as Hester accepted it. “I told the woman not to cut the stem,” he said gruffly. “The thorn represents the prick to my conscience.”

  A sheen of moisture filled Hester’s lined eyes. Julianne’s throat constricted.

  His dark brows drew together. “I have been remiss. It is long overdue, but I am grateful to you for taking care of Julianne. Will you… continue?”

  “Of course,” Hester said.

  He hesitated. “Forgive me?”

  “Rogue.” Her voice cracked a bit.

  Their awkwardness made Julianne uncomfortable. Her mother had always said a cup of tea could soothe even the most difficult of moments. She crossed the room to the bell. “I will ring for a tea tray.”

  He sat in the chair he favored. The dogs abandoned Hester and sat at his feet. “You’ll have to wait for sweets,” he said.

  When they pawed at his boots, he leaned forward to ruffle their fur. Then he glanced at Julianne. “You sent the message to Lady Boswood?”

  “Yes,” Julianne said. “And I wrote Georgette a short missive, informing her as well.”

  He nodded. “Very good.”

  The tea tray arrived. Hester asked the maid to put the rose in a vase and place it in her bedchamber. Julianne poured. He took a dish of tea to his aunt. Her heart turned over as she busied herself placing biscuits on the plates.

 

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