by Megan Bryce
“So? What did he say in those two sentences?”
“He likes the country and fishing. But does not care much for the stars.”
“Who does, besides you? If that is what you are waiting for in a husband then you will die a spinster.”
Olivia shook her head. “He does not need to share my passions. I simply wanted to take a measure of his character.”
Rufus nodded towards the door. “He does not seem to like having his character measured. He’s leaving.”
Mary said, “Perhaps he is being a dutiful son and taking his mother home. That is Mrs. Jenkins he is escorting.”
Olivia glanced quickly at the departing Mr. Jenkins. “Well, my two sentences with him did not gain me much information. There must be a better way of learning about a gentleman.”
Mary smiled knowingly. “Perhaps Rufus can make some inquiries. Dear, can you find out if Mr. Jenkins would make a suitable brother-in-law?”
Olivia frowned. “Don’t say anything so foolish in front of Mama. I will never hear the end of it.” She looked at Rufus. “Could you? Discreetly.”
He winked theatrically. “Leave it to me, Sis.”
“I am doomed,” Olivia said and began to lecture on the constellations as her mother swooped in with hope in her eyes.
Nathaniel helped his mother into the carriage wishing he could escape to his club. His mother would want to rehash the last hour, lady by lady. He wished, not for the first time, that he was not such a dutiful son.
She said, “Who was the woman you were talking to right before we left?”
“Miss Blakesley. Her brother-in-law and I belong to the same club.”
“She’s a little older, isn’t she?”
“A bit, though I wouldn’t say thirty. Should I warn her that you are getting desperate to marry me off to anyone not in braids?”
“I should think if she was nearing thirty I would need to warn you. I doubt the desperation I feel can compare to hers.”
Nathaniel grunted, and for an instant felt sympathy for the poor woman. If her mother was anything like his, she must indeed be feeling desperate. He at least did not live under the same roof and could retire in peace, far away from her anxious schemings.
In truth though, Miss Blakesley had not seemed desperate. Interested, certainly. But also curious. She was not indelicate about her scrutiny but he felt it nonetheless. As an eligible bachelor, he had been appraised before. And as much as he did not appreciate the experience, he understood it. What woman would want to give her life and love to someone she did not know?
However, Miss Blakesley’s scrutiny had been different. He, for once, had not felt like she was calculating his fortune but instead felt she was sincerely interested in knowing him. He had been slightly, and embarrassingly, aroused by her interest.
Though why he would be aroused by a woman wearing a dreary brown frock with a tight collar buttoned up to her neck, he did not know. She was definitely not your average young chit.
His mother smiled and gazed out the window. “She didn’t seem quite as talkative as the other girls. You at least had conversation with her.”
He nodded. “About fishing the Thames. And sketching the stars in London.”
His mother blinked. “Well, that is certainly a different kind of conversation then what you are used to.” She paused. “She’s not young, and certainly not frilly. Perhaps we’ve found a different species of fish, after all. Would you call her chatty?”
Nathaniel groaned and leaned his head back. His mother smiled, and wondered about Miss Blakesley.
Two
Miss Olivia Blakesley had made up her mind. After a few sleepless nights and a little sip from her father’s brandy. Awful stuff.
Rufus had come back with an all clear on Mr. Jenkins. She wasn’t going to give a stranger the keys to her family’s downfall unless she was sure he wouldn’t use them. One could never be sure but it appeared as if he wouldn’t.
Mary, of course, had told everyone of her interest. They kept humming the wedding march under their breath whenever her mother was out of earshot.
Olivia had no interest in telling them her real plans for Mr. Nathaniel Jenkins.
She was going to seduce him. Or rather, have him seduce her. She wasn’t at all sure how to go about it, her education so far teaching her how not to be seduced. And, she might add, she had been led to believe it would be a difficult task. Men apparently not being able to control their baser instincts.
But Olivia had never been accosted. Not once.
No suitor had ever tried to dally in a darkened corner, offer her a stroll in a deserted garden, or taken advantage of an accidental meeting.
She was starting to think the voracious appetites of the male species to be an exaggeration. Perhaps she should have chosen a rake after all.
If all else failed, she could always lower her standards.
She spotted Mr. Jenkins on the dance floor, twirling another entirely too young woman in a decadent waltz. The Donner’s Ball was quite the smash, despite a few disapproving looks for the choice of dance.
It was a bit crowded but Olivia hoped to take advantage of that. Sometime tonight she was going to corner Mr. Jenkins and proposition him.
She smoothed her skirt in a sudden nervous spurt of energy. If she was wrong about his character she would be a ruined old spinster by tomorrow morning.
On the bright side, it might be easier to catch a rake if she was ruined.
On the dark side, she might be the laughing-stock of the ton. Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful.
Well, nothing for it. All she had to lose was her reputation. Self-respect. Trust of her family.
Dear God, I’m a hoyden, she thought and went to position herself for an accidental encounter.
Nathaniel didn’t know what was worse, being twittered at by a brainless child or stared at without pause. He’d at least had experience with brainless chatter.
And she wasn’t even flirting! Miss Blakesley simply stared. No coy smiles, silly fan work, fluttering lashes. Just watching him– sizing him up, he couldn’t help but feel.
He wondered if she found him lacking. Was there something on his nose? His cravat in ruins? Surely his mother would have rushed over to save herself the embarrassment.
He excused himself from his partner, thankful that tonight there were men enough as dancing partners. He had done his duty; his mother could not fault him tonight. Although, unless he introduced her to a new bride this evening, she would anyway. Perhaps he would make his escape and leave his sister and brother-in-law to escort her home.
“Mr. Jenkins? Please excuse me for intruding on your thoughts.”
He turned and found Miss Blakesley inches from him, staring.
“Miss Blakesley, forgive me. I did not see you in the crush.”
She smiled slightly. “I do apologize. You looked quite ready to leave and there is a. . . a small matter I wish to discuss with you.”
He nodded, looking down at her. Up close, she was prettier than he remembered– in a serious, studious way. From afar she looked ready to battle the world. But to his surprise he towered over her; her personality loomed much larger than her small frame. And her all-seeing eyes were a pale shade of blue.
“Shall we dance, Miss Blakesley?”
She looked at the dance floor longingly, then shook herself. “I would like that, Mr. Jenkins. However, the matter I wish to discuss is a bit private.”
Private? Was the girl trying to catch him? Being seen together in a compromising situation would certainly speed things along.
He said, “I’m afraid there is not much privacy offered tonight. A waltz may be the closest we can get.”
“A waltz? Oh, yes. Well, perhaps that would work. Shall we?”
Nathaniel grinned down at her, offering his arm. “Why, thank you.”
Miss Blakesley blushed, taking his arm. What was she up to? No gently bred lady had ever tracked him across a ball before, nor wished to speak to hi
m in private.
Or stared at him with icy blue eyes, making him feel like an open book.
He led her once around the floor, noticing the rigid corset under her dress.
He said, “What was it you wished to speak about?”
Miss Blakesley cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder. “I want to assure you that I am in earnest. I can only imagine what you will think, but I. . . I would like you to seduce me.”
Nathaniel missed a step and tripped over her foot. A blush rose again to her cheeks. “Perhaps waltzing wasn’t a good idea.”
He was silent while he tried to think of an appropriate response. Had she really just asked him to seduce her?
She glanced at him, her cheeks glowing, and he decided she had.
“Are you completely mad?”
She glanced at him quickly, then continued to stare over his shoulder. “No. I’m inexperienced and wish to change that. I had hoped you could help me.”
“I hesitate to ask why out of all the men of your acquaintance you have chosen me to relieve you of your inexperience.”
“You are not a rake.”
“No?”
“No. Having been through eight seasons I assure you I can spot the type.”
He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising at her frank admission of eight seasons. He didn’t know how old his mother was and his sister wouldn’t admit to any age.
“Miss Blakesley, this is absurd. Even if I were a rake, I could not. . . assist you.”
The waltz ended and Nathaniel escorted her off the floor.
She gripped his arm. “Teach me the acts of seduction, Mr. Jenkins.”
He steered her to a blissfully empty corner and sat her in a chair rather abruptly.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” he said, taking another chair as far from her as possible and still be in the conversation.
“I assure you I do. But all my knowledge is second-hand. I would like to experience it myself.”
Nathaniel muttered a curse word not intended for polite ears and crossed his legs. Good God, he was hard! Simply talking about the subject in a most clinical way he was tempted to haul Miss Blakesley out of her chair and ravish her senseless.
She wanted him to seduce her!
What was the world coming to.
“Miss Blakesley, this is highly irregular, and very definitely immoral. I must advise you to do as every other woman and find yourself a husband. You are a gently bred lady with a good reputation.”
“And I am seven and twenty. Far too old to ‘find myself a husband’.”
“You are not so old; I would not have guessed a day past twenty-five.”
One of her elegantly cynical eyebrows raised. “Fine. Would you marry me?”
Nathaniel pushed himself back in his chair. “Me? Miss Blakesley. . .”
“Exactly. I am too old and too set in my ways, with far too many freedoms–”
Nathaniel muttered, “Amen to that.”
“–to make a good wife, and I doubt I would enjoy a husband. I would enjoy a lover though.” She studied him a bit, eyeing his polished boots, the breeches molding his thighs, his hands clasped in his lap. “I would enjoy you.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat.
“Miss Blakesley, I still can’t help but think you don’t know what you are asking, else you wouldn’t be asking a practical stranger.”
“It would be perfectly acceptable to marry you after such a short time. I don’t see how this is any different.”
What logic. If she couldn’t tell the difference between marriage and what she was suggesting there was no hope he could point it out.
She said, “I’m willing to pay you.”
His mouth fell open. “Pardon?”
“I have access to the money saved for my dowry. I’m not willing to part with all of it, since you won’t be marrying me, but I’ll be able to pay what you think is fair.”
Nathaniel felt his face go red. “You want to pay me? I am not a damn prostitute!”
Miss Blakesley blinked, then coughed discreetly. “I had not thought of it like that. Male prostitution? Would I call you a gentleman of the night?”
She chuckled and the low sound sent a chill down his spine.
He said, “You belong in Bedlam.”
She chuckled again. “I did not mean you would be a prostitute. I would like you to seduce me, woo me, not just. . . you know.”
“You want to pay me to woo you.”
“Yes. This is my one chance; I think I should have it all. I would like to be courted. You can come calling, dance with me, escort me to the opera. My sisters were never so happy as when they were being pursued. I would like the same.”
“And then presumably after I have wooed and won you, I would seduce you, and then jilt you in the eyes of the ton when I never see you again.”
Miss Blakesley tipped her head. “I know it will cause a very minor stir but I will take the blame. I have no one to impress, while one day you will have to take a wife.” She leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. “I would suggest girls a little older. Not too old, but not ones right out of the nursery. You seem to need a little heavier conversation than they can provide. Just a thought.”
“Thank you for the advice, Miss Blakesley.”
“You’re welcome. Now where were we?”
“You were turning me into a rake.”
“I wasn’t!”
Nathaniel said, “That is what it sounds like to me. I court you, make you fall in love with me, take your innocence, and leave you. I can’t think of a better definition than that. Perhaps you should find a man with more experience with that than I.”
She stared at him, her forehead wrinkled in consternation. “But I specifically do not want a rake. I do have my reputation to consider and I don’t want even a breath of scandal surrounding my family. Surely no one would think that you had compromised me.”
“I hesitate to ask what you mean by that.”
“Well. . . I mean. . . You seem quite. . . Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to attack your virility.”
Nathaniel guffawed. “I didn’t know you were attacking my virility.”
“I just meant you have a reputation yourself. You never let your passions overwhelm you. You don’t drink or gamble to excess and you are quite discreet with your. . . lovers.”
He stared at her. Where this woman got her ideas and information from he didn’t know, but she had to be the most informed woman in the ton.
Miss Blakesley smiled a little at him. “I do have five brothers-in-law, Mr. Jenkins. I usually can wheedle what I need out of them.”
“And I assume you have their blessings for this insane scheme of yours?”
“They all agree you are excellent husband material so I will have to assume you are excellent seducer material as well.”
Nathaniel rubbed his forehead, thinking her circular arguments would land him in Bedlam as well.
“Miss Blakesley, I must admit that though I am intrigued by your proposition, I must decline. My honor would not allow me to compromise you in such a fashion.”
Her shoulders seemed to sag a little but she rallied quickly. “Of course. I do understand, Mr. Jenkins. Your refusal tells me I was right about your character.” She smiled wryly. “I shall have to find someone with not so many morals. Could you recommend any other gentleman of your acquaintance?”
He stood sharply. “Certainly not. This entire affair is a foolish idea. Find yourself a husband.”
Miss Blakesley stood as well. “As I have told you, that is impossible. I have a few extremely bad habits and I do not desire a husband.”
He took a step closer, ignoring her sad eyes and pert nose. “I’m afraid, Miss Blakesley, that you must be ruined without my help.”
She glanced at his lips and whispered, “That’s a shame, Mr. Jenkins.”
He stared at the maddening woman, then turned briskly away. The faster he got away from her the better.
Honor was beginning to seem a poor consolation prize for what she was offering.
Three
A week later, Nathaniel waited impatiently as his carriage slowly wound its way to the Hamilton’s. He had prepared for this ball with more excitement than he had felt in a long time. Possibly ever, as he wasn’t more than a passable dancer and the conversations had always run toward fashion. Now, however, there was Miss Blakesley. What scandalous dialogue she would insist on spouting while buttoned up to the neck, he had no idea. But he did not doubt it would be amusing. And intriguing. And arousing.
He had thought of little else than her this last week, playing again their conversation. No wonder. He had never before been approached by a woman to ruin her. He could in all honesty say she did not look mad. Or devious. Or even passionate. And yet, she was all three.
She looked like the scholarly spinster that she was. But underneath she was so much more. He was looking forward to her shocking him again tonight.
Oh, he had no intention of taking her up on her offer; he would talk her out of her madness if she continued to insist upon it. But he could not seem to stop thinking about it or her.
His mother intruded on his thoughts. “You look quite eager tonight, Nathaniel.”
He immediately dropped the curtain and sat back on the seat. “Perhaps I have accepted the necessity of all these social engagements.”
“Mmm. What’s her name?”
Nathaniel grinned at his mother, who sat back with an expression of shock on her face. He laughed. “Come, Mother. I can’t be such an ogre that a grin throws you.”
She composed herself. “Of course not. But you must admit this is quite a change from last week when I practically had to drag you.”
He nodded. “On reflection, I have decided I enjoyed myself immensely last week. And I have every intention of doing so again.” He skewered her with a stare. “But I do not want you jumping to conclusions about every young lady I come in contact with.”
His mother opened her fan, waving it idly. “You could do worse than find someone who excites you, Nathaniel.”
It was true. However, he doubted his mother would approve of the lady if she knew why he was excited.
