The Seduction of an English Scoundrel (10 page)

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 approvingly. “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—”

“Be careful where you walk,” he said, his voice absorbed in the disorienting shadows. “The floor is damp, and it's as dark as Hades in here.”

Hades, she thought with a slight shiver, feeling a bit like Persephone as she followed her dark lord into the underworld. How had this happened? Yesterday she was contemplating her hard-earned freedom, and now, who could tell what twists the future held? How could she thwart his scheme without giving herself away?

“I notice that you've been here before,” she commented wryly.

“Only when the pavilion was just built and the duke gave us a tour.”

“Us?”

“My father and me.” He turned, his handsome face looming into her vision. “Gracious, Jane, I was all of three.”

“Truly?”

“Well.” He coughed. “Perhaps thirteen.”

“That's what I thought. What could have possessed your sister to come here today?”

“I shall give you one guess,” he muttered, his brows knitting into a scowl.

“Perhaps she had a headache and needed a moment of peace.”

He gave a rather insulting grunt at the suggestion. “Only an idiot would believe such an excuse. Do be quiet, Jane. Someone's coming.”

He nodded distractedly to the gentleman and lady who had just emerged from the narrow corridor, both looking breathless and guilty at being spotted.

“Simon!” Jane said in shock, coming to a stop.

“Jane,” he stammered, his eyes widening in recognition. “What are you doing in here?”

“I—”

“She has a headache and needs a moment of peace,” Grayson said in a grave voice.

“Oh, right,” Simon said, and completely missed his sister's look of indignation. “The pavilion always helps my headaches, too. Try soaking your feet in the Pool of the Pleiades. I'll meet you both back outside, shall I?”

“What a grand idea,” Grayson said, glancing at Jane from the corner of his eye. “Meet us at the end of the walkway.”

“Well, so much for my chaperone,” Jane said archly as her brother gave Sedgecroft a friendly pat on the arm before whisking the giggling Lady Damaris Hill in the opposite direction.

“At least it shall appear we were all in here together,” Grayson said, shaking his head. He motioned to a dark passageway off to the right. “Ah, that looks like a place conducive to a passionate moment, doesn't it?”

“I'm sure I wouldn't know.”

“No?” he teased.

She frowned as she trailed his tall figure down a narrow corridor that gave quite unexpectedly into a series of deep scallop-shaped bubbling pools.

He turned, studying her face intently for several moments. “What are you thinking, Jane?” he asked in a low, compelling voice.

She sighed. The humid seclusion must have gone to her head, because before she could stop herself, she said, “No young man has ever lured me to such a place. Never.”

He smiled slowly, his eyes meeting hers. “I do not believe you. One or two must have tried.”

Her face felt warm. Her dress was clinging damply to her body from the moist vapors. She felt a flush work its way to the surface of her skin. “No, actually. No one ever tried.”

“Then allow me,” he said, holding out his hand, plumes of steam rising around his powerful frame. “Come here.”

Her heartbeat quickened at that imperious command. To her amazement she felt herself moving toward him, obeying his dark velvety voice.

“What do you want?” she whispered, holding her breath.

“To further your education.” He bent his head down to hers, his blond hair brushing her cheek. “Since there are obvious deficits, I shall take a moment to provide you with the experience lacking in your background.”

“What a gentlemanly thing to do.”

“There's no need to thank me,” he said, his eyes flickering over her like a spark.

She felt the heat of his gaze burn to her bones. “I'm sure this isn't . . . wise.”

He ran his forefinger down the side of her jaw, raising shivers on her skin. “There is a time to be wise, and a time to be wicked. Which do you suppose it is?”

His heavy-lidded blue eyes made her feel weak, made her heart quicken. “I think . . . I . . .”

A wanton flame kindled in the depths of his eyes. For the life of her she could not break away from his gaze. His silken voice lulled her. “Be a little wicked just once, Jane. Just for a moment.”

He drew her quivering body into his arms. His head lowered to hers. Before his firm mouth even touched hers, she felt utterly disoriented, giddy, like a child's spinning top. He leaned into her, his breath a teasing caress at the hollow of her throat. Hellfire, she thought distantly, arching her spine. The flames of the tempter, and I am walking willingly straight into his white-hot heart.

His tongue traced the contours of her mouth with a sensual finesse that made her toes curl in her silk pumps. When he gently drew her bottom lip between his sharp white teeth, her legs almost gave way. A tremor of longing shuddered deep inside her. His tongue delved into her mouth, and she moaned. She could feel his heart pounding in powerful echoes through his linen shirt. The heat of his hard torso lit a fire in her belly, and spread in burning circles.

So this was what had made Nigel and his governess defy the world. This was what made sensible women turn insensible and unwise.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice thick and seductive, “I had no idea how good you were at wickedness.”

“As if I led the way, you demon.”

He laughed helplessly, his hands tightening around her. She was too shrewd for her own good, he thought. Or for his. She would never believe that he had not meant to do this. “Say the word and I shall stop,” he whispered in her ear.