The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

by Jillian Hunter

  Going on the pounce? Jane thought in amused indignation. What a way to phrase it, reducing her relationship with Sedgecroft to predator and prey.

  “Actually,” she said when it became obvious that the aforementioned scoundrel was not about to set Audrey straight, “Lord Sedgecroft is only—”

  “A man bewitched,” he said under his breath, as polite and self-possessed as the next accomplished predator. Oooh. The talented wretch, making her tingle all over with his outrageous performance when she knew perfectly well not to believe him.

  Jane gave him a poke in the back. “To be honest, our association is not all that provocative. Nigel and Grayson are—”

  “Rivals.” He grasped her hand, squeezing the small bones of her knuckles until she glared at him. “One man’s loss is another’s gain, isn’t it? Let us just say that I have quietly admired Jane from afar. I was not about to let anyone else take advantage.”

  Audrey took a deep sip of her champagne, glancing from the classically beautiful young lady to the sinfully handsome scoundrel who, she noted, was holding Jane’s slender hand in a painfully possessive grip. “Whatever you say, Sedgecroft, but”—she brightened—“this means I can invite you to a supper together.”

  “That would be very nice, I’m sure,” he replied, while Jane wondered what her parents would think of this development. Surely even her broad-minded mother would disapprove of her daughter drifting into the demimonde. Or perhaps not. This plan had taken the most unpredictable turn. Jane was beginning to think she had jumped from the proverbial frying pan into the fire.

  And Sedgecroft definitely stoked the red-hot flames of hellfire in her soul.

  “I think I see an old friend of mine at the table,” she said, attempting to disengage her hand from his. “Would you both excuse me for a moment?”

  Grayson brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her gloved fingertips, murmuring in a lovelorn voice, “Only for the shortest moment?”

  It was an act. She knew it in her intellect, but all her female senses responded to the seductive timbre of his voice. “Yes,” she said, flustered by the realization that he was perfectly aware of the disconcerting effect he had on her. “But I’m only going over to the tables.”

  He drew her forward by her fingertips, her knees touching his. A sinful flutter stirred deep in her belly. What did he think he was doing?

  “Hurry back,” he said, his eyes holding hers.

  And then he let her go. Releasing her breath, she turned quickly to lose herself in the crowd.

  Grayson watched her pensively, half aware that he himself was being watched by the other woman beside him. Acting the part of a smitten suitor was easier than he’d expected. Just being in Jane’s presence made him ache for unbridled sex and reminded him he had not had a lover for longer than he cared to admit.

  Perhaps her inaccessibility was what challenged him. He suspected there was more. She was intelligent, practical, his equal in conversation. She amused him with her prim dignity, and he was positive there were depths to her she had never dared reveal to anyone. He might have enjoyed plumbing those depths had his task not been to smoothly reinsert her back into Society.

  His sultry gaze followed the movements of her body, her awkward dash to escape across the lawn. The fact that she strode like a soldier in no way detracted from the sway of her nicely rounded bottom beneath her pink gauze dress. Pink, he thought, his body hardening in a swelter of arousal. She’d be pink and white all over. Roses and cream. Sweet enough to enjoy in one bite. But he wouldn’t devour her all at once. He would savor her in slow, tender nibbles. . . .

  Dear heaven. She had his thoughts chasing one another in circles. His intention was to return her to respectability, not ruin her.

  “Is it possible, Sedgecroft?” Audrey inquired softly. “Are you behind that wedding scandal yesterday?”

  He hesitated, his lean face amused. This was a critical moment, a test of his ability to dissemble. Audrey had known him for a long time. He didn’t want to lie to her, but chances were that anything he told her today would be broadcast all over London by tonight. “You know better than to ask me that. Would I admit it if I were?”

  “This is very unusual behavior. I believe I am concerned. Do you know that the gossips are calling her Lady Jane Jilt?”

  He felt a surge of anger. “Not to my face, they’re not.”

  “It is the first time I have ever seen you with a decent female,” she said quietly, following his lead as he merged back into the flow of traffic. “Beware, Sedgecroft.”

  “Beware of what?” he asked with a negligent shrug, his gaze leaving her to return again to Jane. “I am an honorable man. Have you ever known a woman to regret a friendship with me?”

  She put her hand on his wrist. “It is you I worry about. That heart of yours may not easily be captured, but once it is, I suspect the loss might be fatal. Despite what happened to her yesterday, she is a woman made for marriage.”

  “That accursed word again. Yes, I know she is made for marriage.” He frowned, noticing that quite a few of his acquaintances had crowded around the breakfast table to introduce themselves to Jane. Little boys, he thought in contempt. They’re practically licking their chops. He couldn’t see her expression, what she made of it. But was she actually going to eat while they all stood there drooling over her? “Look, we’ll have to continue this lovely conversation later. The wolves are gathering, and she is in no state to defend herself.”

  Audrey turned to see what he was talking about. “This possessive side of you is fascinating. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen it before. It doesn’t mean—”

  He brushed around her in annoyance. Hadn’t he promised to protect Jane? “It isn’t what you’re thinking.”

  Audrey stared after his broad-shouldered body as he broke through the line of his male friends with his usual Boscastle arrogance. Her heart gave an unsettling flutter even though she had long ago resigned herself to a platonic association with the intriguing marquess. “It might not be what you’re thinking either, darling,” she said wistfully.

  Several tables had been set up on the southwest lawn, draped with damask tablecloths that held silver chafing dishes, jugs of lemonade, and pots of coffee, tea, and chocolate. One of Sedgecroft’s friends had brought Jane a plate of strawberries and sugared almonds.

  She had just popped a strawberry into her mouth when she saw him cutting like a sword through the cluster of guests. Her tongue curled around the tart berry. She was conscious of the other women around her interrupting their conversations to stare. And no wonder. His masculine vitality cast a spell too potent to ignore. Who would not be swept away in his whirlwind of staggering appeal? He was a breath of fresh air to challenge the stale strictures of Society.

  His male friends clapped him on the back and cast meaningful glances from him to Jane, as if awaiting a formal introduction. Which he refused to give for reasons she could not fathom. She already knew several of the young men through her brother. Sedgecroft actually looked angry at them. And at her. What an actor. What a nuisance.

  “There you are,” he announced across the table in a loud possessive voice that could not help but draw attention. “I have been looking for you everywhere. Do not leave me alone again.”

  Jane felt people staring at her, conversation arrested. Her voice caught at the back of her throat as she swallowed the strawberry whole. Color climbed into her cheeks. She wasn’t as polished at this as Sedgecroft. Her natural impulse was to hide under the table. “Well, I was right here.” Which of course he had known. “With your friends.”

  “Friends? My friends?” He cast a dismissive glare at the four men standing behind her. The quartet immediately began to drift away, warned by Grayson’s tone of voice that they had trespassed on private territory.

  “Well, who would have guessed?” one of them murmured. “Nigel’s jilt and Sedgecroft?”

  “Perhaps she wasn’t a jilt, after all. Perhaps Nigel was given no choice in the
matter.”

  The four men stopped and stared back at the table, sharing the same covetous thoughts. Was the Earl of Belshire’s beautiful daughter about to be set up as a mistress? Who would have guessed she would be available for such a delicious arrangement? Or did the situation carry more serious implications? Was their idol about to be leg-shackled?

  “That,” Jane said, pursing her lips as the rogue himself came up beside her, “was a rather unnecessary act of drama for this early in the day.”

  “Convincing, wasn’t I?” He grinned sheepishly. “Forgive me, but I had a hunch you needed to be saved.”

  “From eating breakfast?”

  He took her elbow. “One does not accept attention from a gentleman without a certain indebtedness,” he said with mock severity. “Breakfast today, bed tomorrow.”

  “Oh, honestly, Sedgecroft. Only a mind like yours could make such a connection. Breakfast . . . and bed sport.”

  “They are compatible, believe me.”

  “In your world, perhaps.”

  “Are we that different, you and I?” he teased.

  “Of course we are.”

  “Well, far be it from me to corrupt you.”

  “I don’t think you’re all that corrupt.”

  He looked up suddenly, his eyes narrowing. Something had caught his attention behind her. “Don’t you?” he asked distractedly. “Does that mean there’s hope?”

  She glanced around. She couldn’t tell at what or whom he’d been staring so intently. Another woman? “I wouldn’t bank on it.”

  “I know how men think,” he said in a smug undertone, “especially those men.”

  “Those men,” she whispered, trying to rescue another strawberry from over his free hand before he returned her plate to the table, “are of your class and background. They admire—they emulate you.”

  He guided her off the walkway and down a cushioned slope of camomile. “Which is precisely why I know how they think. And why I was worried about you.”

  “That does not say very much about your character.”

  “No, it doesn’t, does it?” He laughed suddenly. It was good fun but rather a challenge to spar with her. “Perhaps I should have left you in the gray dress.”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments. Jane could not say how his hand had managed to slide down the small of her back, where it rested, provocative and proprietary, the weight of his fingers sending warm tingles down her spine. She had no idea where they were going either. All she knew was that he seemed preoccupied and that she was enjoying herself more than she should.

  “I thought you wanted to place me back into the social arena as soon as possible.”

  “Yes. But not in the gladiator’s pit. And not by yourself. Did they ask you any personal questions?”

  She halted in her tracks to face him. He was starting to sound like her parents. “As a matter of fact, they did.”

  “Such as?” he demanded.

  “Such as whether I cared for coffee or chocolate.”

  His eyes danced in amusement. “What was your answer?”

  “I said neither.”

  “A woman of mystery.” He feigned a disappointing sigh. “Those rascals will take that as an invitation to intimacy.”

  “I told them I liked tea,” she said tartly. “I do not see how that can possibly be interpreted as an invitation to anything, let alone to an intimate act.”

  “To a male on the prowl, the mere hint of a smile on a woman’s lips is enough to encourage him. Trust me,” he said with authority. “The fact is fixed as firmly as any scientific principle.”

  “My lips were engaged in eating, Sedgecroft, until you confiscated that plate from under my nose. I happen to be hungry.”

  He chuckled, claiming her arm again to lead her farther down the slope. “Did anyone ever tell you that your honesty will land you in trouble someday?”

  Her stomach rumbled as she glanced back longingly at the breakfast tables. “Only my mother, at least a dozen times a week for my entire life. Where are we going now? People are talking about us.”

  “I’m sure you’ve made a favorable impression, Jane.”

  “I’m not. I told you this was too soon to make an appearance. Nigel and I never caused this kind of scene in public.”

  “Not until yesterday.” He stopped, as if realizing what he’d said. Teasing her was one thing. Cruelty was another. “I didn’t mean that as it sounded.”

  “Well, it’s true.” She paused, feeling a twinge of guilt. It was disconcerting to be treated like a fragile porcelain figure. She wished she deserved it. “I do have some inner fortitude, Sedgecroft.”

  “All I meant was that the ton has taken notice of us,” he said more carefully. “That was our first aim. Give me your arm again.”

  Why didn’t she refuse? she wondered in chagrin. If he were a pirate captain who ordered her to walk the plank, she would probably comply. She was only too happy to cling to his muscular forearm, never mind what disaster loomed ahead. This was probably why her parents had warned her to marry Nigel. To protect her from herself.

  “Sedgecroft, not a step farther. This pavilion is famous for the seductions conducted within.”

  He guided her forward, a man on a mission if ever Jane had seen one. “I am well aware of that.”

  She blinked. “Then be aware that I am not going in.”

  He half turned to fix her with an imperious frown. “Stop dawdling, Jane. I need you. Come here right now.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “If my eyes have not deceived me, my sister Chloe just disappeared into the pavilion with a young cavalry officer who is a shade too forward for his own good. You might want to keep me from committing an act of violence.”

  “Are you certain it was Chloe?”

  “No.”

  No, because he’d been too busy making sure Jane was safe from the hungry wolves to pay much attention to anything else. No, because Chloe was not supposed to be here today, and if she had gone to the pavilion, it was in brazen disregard to his orders.

  “I’m not certain it was her,” he said, a note of panic in his voice. “But I don’t intend to take any chances either.”

  Jane stared at the red-brick pavilion with its four slender white turrets stretching skyward, a tribute to a fairy-tale castle of olden days. “Rumor has it that the pavilion’s secret passages provide perfect trysting places for the duke’s more amorous guests.”

  “Yes, Jane,” he said in a mildly patronizing tone. “I doubt Chloe went inside to admire the stonework.”

  “Wait a moment,” she said, eyeing him in open suspicion. “I thought you told me you had locked her in her room.”

  “A locked room to a Boscastle is not an obstacle,” he said grimly as the fragrant grass ended at a wide paved walk. “It is a challenge, a stepping-stone to misadventure.”

  “She always looked like such a sensible girl,” Jane said, shaking her head. “I rather liked her the one time we met at the foundling hospital.”

  “Sensible?” He snorted. “One never knows what hides beneath the surface.”

  Jane bit the inside of her cheek. She could not bring herself to look into those perceptive blue eyes, not with the secret she was hiding from him. “Um, no. I suppose not.”

  “That is one of the reasons I like you, Jane,” he said. “You are a very straightforward, sensible female.”

  Oh, dear. If he only knew how serpentine, how insensible she had proven to be in the past two days.

  “I wish you could exert some influence on Chloe,” he added.

  “I’m sure she is sensible at heart,” Jane murmured, nibbling her lower lip.

  “That is because you are sensible.”

  “Stop making me sound like such a paragon.” She was going to scream if he kept heaping these undeserved compliments on her head. “It is embarrassing.”

  “That is exactly what I mean,” he said, nodding approvingl
y. “I do not recall such honesty in a woman and I happen to value honesty,” he went on, as if the point had not been drummed into her heart. Her dishonest, perfidious heart.

  “I wasn’t aware that honesty was a quality a man like you admired in the opposite sex,” she said in a faint voice.

  “Well, among other things.” And they both knew what other things he valued by the ghost of a wicked smile that crossed his face. “Perhaps you can set an example for my sister.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “She has no other female to emulate, you see. Not since our Emma went off to Scotland. I’m afraid I haven’t set a very good example where morals are concerned.”

  “Hmm.” No argument there.

  “I can’t simply let the family dynasty go to pot,” he continued, aware he was confiding in her again. “The problem is, I thought I had a few more years of misadventure myself before I settled down.”

  “How cruel that your sinning must be cut short.”

  He laughed, the dark tones of his voice sliding pleasantly over her skin. “Isn’t it though?”

  The faint strains of the orchestra playing on the opposite slope drifted down toward them. A concealing row of willow trees overshadowed the walkway. A pair of white marble porpoises flanked the pavilion entrance, sending a spray of fine mist arching into the air. Grayson glanced around. No one at the party could see them now. Besides, the duke kept a parade of servants milling about outside to lend an air of propriety to the place.

  “I’ve heard it was called the Pavilion of Pleasure,” Jane murmured. “I always wondered what it was like.”

  “Well, wonder no more,” Grayson said, unceremoniously whisking her inside the shadowed interior. “There. I don’t believe we were seen.”

  “Sedgecroft, I’m not sure—”