To Tame a Viscount (Reformed Rakes Book 2)

by Jenn Langston

  He wrenched his mouth away before matters progressed. “To answer your question, I’ve never been happier in my life.”

  She smiled and melted into him when he pulled her back into his embrace. In such a short time, she’d gone from a lonely spinster to a wife, and now a mother. And, it was all because of Simon.

  Her life had changed the minute he’d walked through the doors of the House of Reform, and she would be forever grateful for that moment.

  Keep reading for a glimpse from book 3 in the Reformed Rake series, To Teach a Gentleman.

  Chapter 1

  Genevieve Jubal focused on her breathing while running her fingertips over the back of the sofa in Lady Constance’s House of Reform. Still anxious, she circled the small room, desperate for distraction. Her mother had assured her this was going to be a turning point in her life. The trouble being, she wasn’t sure if it would be for the good or the bad.

  Too overcome, she sat on the sofa and concentrated on the point at hand. It would never do to speak with the proprietor in her current state. She imagined the lady would be expecting to meet an uninteresting wallflower who could barely string two words together, as her mother was no doubt listing all her shortcomings at this very moment. After all, there could be no other reason why her mother would need to speak to the woman alone.

  Not for the first time, Genevieve regretted allowing Miss Kaylee Shepherd to talk her into this. The lady had helped create this establishment with Lady Constance and Lady Regina, so it was likely she had over exaggerated its worth in any case. But, how could taking lessons change anything for her? After enduring two seasons without obtaining a chance at claiming a husband, Genevieve knew in her heart that her future was hopeless.

  Unable to sit still any longer, she sprang to her feet and strolled around the room again. It was a useless trek, but the movement of her feet helped keep her mind from dwelling on what would soon happen. She trembled at the thought.

  Seeing an ad sheet on a side table, she picked it up to reread the services offered. Clearly this place specialized in a varied list of skills. With the topics including social, musical, etiquette, languages, and more, Genevieve no longer felt Miss Shepherd exaggerated. In addition, she wouldn’t be surprised if her mother returned having enrolled her in a number of classes.

  “Finally, someone to speak to,” a deep male voice said from the doorway. “You there, do you speak French?”

  Frozen, Genevieve stared at the man. He was a large, imposing figure. His brown eyes concentrated on her and only her. The knowledge that he saw her was unnerving. She’d always had the ability to be overlooked, but it failed her at this moment. Typically, she would shy away and avert her gaze, but she found herself mesmerized by this man’s features.

  The lord—as he clearly was—had a chiseled face that an angel would envy. His black hair was fashionably short, and appeared to be woven from silk. Something about him and his unwavering focus reached a part of her she’d never known existed.

  “Do you speak at all?” he pressed, clearly annoyed.

  “Bien sûr je parle français. Ne vous pas?” The affirmative response spilled from her lips before she could stop herself as she was too overwhelmed with the man before her.

  His eyebrows raised, and he nodded appreciatively. “That’s very good. Keep going.”

  “Je serais heureux de, mon seigneur. Voulez-vous s'il vous plaît me dire le but de cette?” Genevieve obliged, still feeling off guard and hoping he would respond by telling her his purpose.

  “Very good. You sound very authentic. How long have you known the language?”

  Considering he hadn’t answered her questions, she got the impression this man did not know French. In all her years, her shyness had been a constant companion, but there was something freeing about speaking to someone who did not understand. For once, she could say anything she wished without fear of retribution or embarrassment.

  “Qui es-tu ici pour m'interroger? Je ne crois pas que je vous dois une réponse.” She smiled, feeling quite powerful to be free to demand an answer from him.

  The corner of his mouth curled in a crooked smile. “In English, please. I don’t know but one word in the language.”

  She laughed, still feeling as if she held the upper hand. Most gentlemen of her class acted as if they knew so much more than her, and in turn, she cowered upon herself. This beautiful man, however, didn’t know more than her. And, she was here to learn how to talk to the opposite sex. What a marvelous opportunity.

  Tapping the paper she still clutched against her pursed lips, she studied the man before setting the sheet back where she had found it. In her past two failed seasons, she’d managed to meet—or at least, see—every eligible gentleman in London, yet she’d never encountered him before. Likely she’d never see him again. That made him an excellent candidate for experimentation.

  Keeping eye contact, she put her shoulders back. “I’ve known French for many years.”

  “You seem rather young to make such a claim.” Disbelief colored his tone.

  “And, you seem rather old to have gone through life without knowing another language,” she shot back, then clamped her lips closed. Where had that come from? Never before had she been so bold when addressing . . . well, anyone. She cringed, expecting retribution. Her mother would be appalled.

  He chuckled. “I guess I deserved that. So, how does this work? I refuse to wait any longer, and I’d like to hire you now, so—”

  “Lord Andel,” Lady Constance greeted from the doorway. “I apologize for the wait. I’m pleased to hear you are ready to go forward with accepting our services. If you would please come with me, we can discuss it further.”

  The man looked at Genevieve with a raised brow. “Until next time.”

  “Au revoir, mon seigneur,” Genevieve responded, then immediately regretted it when he smiled at her.

  Seeing the full force of Lord Andel’s smile, her cheeks heated as if they would catch ablaze any second. Quickly, she looked away. What had she done? Their improper conversation should never have happened. She hadn’t even been introduced to him for Heaven’s sake. Shame filled her, and she wished she could disappear into the carpets.

  “What in God’s name was that about?” Her mother’s face was crimson. “Not only were you in here alone with a man, but Lady Constance and I heard your entire conversation. What were you thinking?”

  Genevieve’s shoulder’s sagged in resignation, duly chastised, she wilted onto the sofa. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  “Get up. We should leave now before the lady, herself, throws us out.”

  Although Genevieve hadn’t been looking forward to taking lessons from Lady Constance, she knew this could possibly have been her last chance to marry, and she had ruined it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Christopher Valentine, Earl of Andel, pinned the head mistress of the House of Reform with his most authoritative look. “I said I would like that particular woman to be my teacher.”

  Instead of acquiescing as he was accustomed to, Lady Constance straightened her back. “My lord, you are requesting to learn French, correct?”

  “As I said.”

  “That is a common skill, and therefore, a number of our instructors are qualified to help you.” Her voice was patient, but there was steel behind her words.

  “Are you telling me I may not have my choice of instructors?”

  This was absurd. He couldn’t imagine how this business was to thrive if the clients were to be denied simple requests. The girl was much too young to have obtained a full schedule already. Besides, she had enough extra time to speak so boldly to him today. He would be happy to work around her availability.

  “Not at all, my lord. As a matter of fact, I intend to verify Miss Jubal’s time for you as soon as I am able. However, in the event that she
is unavailable, I need to make sure you are amenable to accepting another instructor in her place.”

  Chewing that over in his mind, Christopher nodded. “As a second choice, I suppose I can agree to that. However, in the event Miss Jubal’s schedule changes, I would expect to be transferred to her.”

  Lady Constance nodded, seemingly satisfied. “That certainly can be arranged. Now, in order to find a suitable replacement, can you tell me exactly what it is about Miss Jubal that compels you to select her?”

  Settling back in his chair, he tried to put into words the feeling he had about the young girl. It wasn’t easy. By her manner of dress, it was clear the girl had fallen on hard times, and he suspected his desire to help her played a factor. Unfortunately, there was so much more than that.

  She was by no means a great beauty, but there was a sparkle in her blue eyes that he hadn’t seen directed at him in a long time. And, the ease at which she spoke the language made him feel as if he should be speaking it as well. As if she’d expected him to respond back to her. That kind of confidence in one’s abilities couldn’t be fabricated.

  “Her language skills were on par with a native speaker. If she is unavailable, I wish to interview her replacement. I have no desire to waste my time.”

  “We don’t want that either, and hope all our clients leave feeling as though their expectations have been exceeded.”

  He stood when she did. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

  “I look forward to working with you, my lord.”

  After excusing himself, Christopher made his way back to his townhouse feeling better about his decision. If Miss Jubal would consent to teaching him, he would be proficient in French before long. At her delicate age, he could only assume that her elevation to this position was due to a great skill. Luck needed to stick to his side for he had to have her as his instructor.

  “You look a little too pleased with yourself,” his brother, Philip, observed the second Christopher walked into the house. “Please, don’t tell me you have decided to go through with your ridiculous plan.”

  “I don’t understand why you have a problem with me furthering my education by learning a language.” Pushing past his brother, Christopher headed to his study. If Philip intended to badger him, he needed a drink.

  As expected, his brother followed him. Christopher went straight for the sidebar to retrieve his good whisky. He’d only been back in London for a few weeks, and he’d already had enough of his brother’s need to share his opinions. His country estate was much more to his liking.

  “Go ahead and pour me one as well. The Lord knows I shall need it.”

  Christopher spun around to face his brother, the decanter in hand. “I don’t see why. How on earth does my decision affect you? Once everything is done, I intend to move back to the country, and none of this will be your problem any longer.”

  “It’s been six years, Christopher. You need to let Leslie go.”

  His body froze as he gripped the bottle tightly in his hand. His brother knew he didn’t like this particular topic. “This has nothing to do with her.”

  “How can you say that? You are learning French so you can marry a woman you’ve never met.”

  Pouring the whisky into his glass, Christopher downed it before filling up the second one and handing it to his brother. This conversation was much worse than their previous ones as Philip had been semi-respectable in the past. Apparently, he had changed his mind about how he was going to act.

  “I see no correlation between the two.”

  Philip snorted as he dropped himself into a chair. “Don’t give me that. I think you have grieved enough for Leslie. Do you honestly believe she would want this for you? To align yourself with a woman you know nothing about?”

  “Leslie can’t want anything anymore. She’s dead.” Even speaking the words brought him pain as he’d expected, regardless of the passage of time. “I’m twenty-eight and I need an heir. Besides, I’ve known Jacques for a few months now. The man simply is looking to secure his sister’s future.”

  “And, they don’t have men in France?” Philip shot back.

  Letting out an exasperated sigh, Christopher pressed his fingers against his temples. “Jacques aided the British during the war against Napoleon. If his sister wants to marry an Englishman, I don’t see the trouble.”

  “Are you listening to yourself? If she wants one of us, why isn’t she the one to learn our language? Then, she can move here and meet you.” Philip’s eyes widened as if struck with an idea. “She’s hideous. That’s why he’s doing this. Do you really want to marry a woman whose been rejected by her entire country based on her looks alone?”

  Christopher laughed. “Blond, straight hair, green eyes, and a petite figure. She has a round cherub face with almond shaped eyes. The kind of woman a man could never get enough of.”

  “I take it you saw a likeness. I’m not sure I like this any better. Leslie was blond and petite with an innocent cherub face.”

  “They look nothing alike,” Christopher growled. “Now, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from talking about my late wife.”

  With a shake of his head, Philip took a drink. “After all this time, you should be able to talk about her. The fact that you can’t is a further indication that you have no business marrying this woman as you’re clearly not ready.”

  “That’s enough. My decision has already been made, and there is nothing else you can do to change it. I’ll be taking lessons to learn French so that I can marry Marguerite Auclair and there is nothing you can say to change my mind in this matter.”

  Philip glared. “If you do not care about how big of a mistake you are making, then I suppose there is nothing I can do to help.”

  Not caring what his brother thought, Christopher kept his gaze unwavering. This was the correct thing to do. Not only would he be helping a friend, but he would have the ghastly business of marriage behind him. He would have his heir with no pesky emotions attached to the mother of his child. It would be much easier that way. Considering the difficulties he’d endured in his past, he was definitely looking forward to a simple future.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Absolutely not! I forbid it!”

  Genevieve cowered as her mother bellowed at Lady Constance. The missive to return so soon after her mother had made them leave so abruptly yesterday had been unexpected, but nothing had prepared Genevieve for this. And, judging from her mother’s reaction, she hadn’t considered the possibility of Lady Constance’s suggestion either.

  “Please, calm down, my lady.” The stern tone of Lady Constance’s voice earned a glare from her mother. “I would appreciate you listening to my plan before you pass judgment upon it.”

  “Genevieve is the daughter of a viscount. She was born to privilege and deserves respect, not to be working like a servant.”

  Lady Constance narrowed her eyes as her back straightened. “Do you believe my title is honorary? My father is a marquis, and I was born to a ridiculous amount of opulence. That means nothing here. I’m trying to help Miss Jubal, not demean her or her worth.”

  “I meant no disrespect to you. Perhaps I know your father?”

  Resisting the urge to cringe as embarrassment overtook her was difficult. Genevieve’s mother had been nosey and the fact had made for a rather embarrassing childhood. It was quite sad to say not much had changed when it came to her mother. Luckily Lady Constance didn’t appear to be angered by her mother’s curiosity.

  “Perhaps. Now, as I said, I believe it would be a significant help for Miss Jubal to honor Lord Andel’s request and teach him French.”

  “I heard you the first time, and I disagree.”

  “Lady Burleson, you heard her just as I did. When she spoke French, she did not appear shy or anything like you described. I believ
e this can help her become accustomed to speaking with gentlemen by this controlled environment. Then, when she is out in society, it will become more natural to her.”

  “What about rumors? No man would want to marry her if it got out that she worked as an instructor. This whole situation is wrong. I came here so someone would teach my daughter to speak to gentlemen, not so that you would hire her.”

  Apparently unperturbed, Lady Constance then turned to face Genevieve. “What do you think?”

  “It’s not her decision,” her mother sputtered.

  As the two women argued, Genevieve couldn’t hear them over the pounding of her own heart. What did she think? Honestly, she wasn’t sure she could sit across from that handsome man and teach him French. She’d never done anything like that before.

  Then, she thought about his crooked smile, and something inside her melted. If she were being honest with herself, she’d admit to wanting to see him again. Not to mention, that their interaction would be controlled as Lady Constance assured. She’d never see him in a social setting. What harm could there be?

  “And, what do you think will happen when he encounters my daughter at a ball or other gatherings?” Her mother’s voice declared her only concern.

  “Should that happen, which is unlikely given the amount of people in town for the season, I suggest you tell him the truth. You are a client here just as he is. You may also remind him that he is the one who insisted upon Miss Jubal instructing him.”

  Prickles of awareness lit her skin. Had he asked for her specifically? Although she knew he only wanted her for her knowledge, no man had ever wanted her for anything before. How could she pass up on this chance?

  “I–I’d like to do this,” Genevieve interrupted, her voice weak.

  Both sets of eyes turned to her, Lady Constance’s proud, and her mother’s furious. Although Genevieve knew she would pay for it later, she needed to do this. As Miss Shepherd had told her, this was her life, no one else’s.