The Seduction of an English Scoundrel (28 page)

“Oh, my God,” Grayson said to Heath. “That is the voice of my nightmares.”

“And mine,” Heath said, amused and appalled at this development. “What do you suppose she wants?”

“I . . .” Grayson hesitated, raising his gaze to the top of the stairs where Jane stood peeking down in her lawn nightdress. “Well, that might be our answer there.”

Esther Chasteberry, now Lady Boscastle, whose keen eyes had never missed a social aberration once in her career as a governess, gave a gasp. “In her nightrail, Nigel! He isn't even subtle about it. The world has gone to Hades, I tell you. She is absolutely ruined!”

Nigel looked up at Jane in slack-mouthed astonishment. In all their years of friendship he had never expected to see his kind, generous Jane come to this. Worse, he knew he was responsible. If he had married her, they might have been miserable together, but at least they would have been respectable. To be sure, she would not have become a rake's mistress who greeted people on the stairs in her nightwear.

“Oh, Jane,” he said quietly, shaking his head in despair. “How could you? And with my own cousin.”

“It is
not
her fault,” Esther said indignantly, moving down the hall like a royal barge on the Thames. “She has been taken advantage of by that”—she pointed accusingly at Grayson—“naughty boy.”

Heath started to laugh.

“I think,” Grayson said, finally recovering from his surprise, “that there has been a misunderstanding.”

Don't let him intimidate you, Nigel,” his wife said. “Do something.”

Nigel swallowed, rousing himself into action. Truth was, he was intimidated by his dear wife, but Grayson had always scared him a little, too, with his Boscastle temperament backed by physical prowess. He had seen Grayson knock out an opponent with the first blow. He steeled himself as Esther reached back and grabbed his arm.

“Are you going to do something or am I?” she demanded.

Heath's eyes glistened with humor. “Watch out, Gray,” he said, “she might have brought her rod.”

Nigel stepped forward. He was at least a head shorter than his cousins, with thick, wavy brown hair, the start of a double chin, and a pleasant if not handsome face. Even now he looked more like the humble baronet he was than a valiant defender of despoiled young ladies.

Except, blast it all, Jane wasn't just a ruined woman. She was his best friend, a courageous spirit who had sacrificed so much for him. Anger surged through his cowardly hesitation. When he found his voice, it sounded so gruff and manly that he almost frightened himself.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sedgecroft. What is the meaning of this? Answer me this instant.”

Grayson was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Only out of a residual fear of the family governess did he manage to respond without laughing. “I should be asking
you
that question, Nigel, don't you think?”

“Well, I—”

“Unbelievably selfish of you to leave your betrothed to the wolves, dear cousin,” Grayson said with a little frown at Jane before she vanished back up the stairs, presumably to don presentable attire. “It was a bit of a scandal you left me to clean up for the family. Not that I minded. Not that it hasn't been a highly entertaining scandal. But, well, it was a scandal.”

Nigel hung his head, easily defeated by his cousin's logic. “Well . . .”

“It wouldn't have been quite so scandalous if you hadn't interfered,” Esther said when it became obvious Nigel's bravado was deflated. “Not surprising, though. Your branch of the Boscastle line always did take the initiative.”

“Why, thank you, Esther,” Heath said, grinning at his older brother. “I think that's the first time you have ever complimented us.”

“I might not have,” she said in a strained voice, “except for the fact we are family now. I shall not tolerate anyone outside criticizing those who are mine.”

“What precisely are you doing here?” Grayson asked again, his arms folded in resignation across his chest.

Esther raised her chin, not in the least cowed by a man whose bottom she had spanked. “We have come to salvage what is left of Jane's name.”

“Then lower your voice,” Grayson said mildly. “Her brother and uncle are asleep upstairs.”

Nigel glanced around. Jane, dressed in a muslin gown and at least seeming decent for a fallen woman, had just descended the stairs to join the fray. He felt guilty for his own happily married state in contrast to her disgrace, although—good gracious, what was that look that passed between her and Sedgecroft?

Electrifying. White hot, like an arc of lightning on a summer night. The very air sizzled with its sultry undertones, and here Nigel stood in the middle, a helpless bystander who suddenly wondered how he could possibly persuade a man like Sedgecroft to do the honorable thing.

Grayson cleared his throat, looking bigger, taller, stronger than Nigel had remembered. “Why don't we gentlemen retire to the drawing room to discuss this?”

Nigel straightened his narrow shoulders. A discussion he could handle. “Stay here, Esther,” he said with authority, then added softly as he turned to follow Grayson, “Please.”

Chapter 25

“I should never have agreed to any of this had I known what a tangle it would become,” Esther confided in Jane as they stood abandoned in the vestibule.

“Nor would I,” Jane said. Which, on reflection, was totally untrue. She had enjoyed every minute with her Boscastle male as Esther had enjoyed hers. “No one could have foreseen any of this.” That part was at least true.

“I hope Nigel stands up for himself,” Esther said with a worried frown.

Jane could only respond with a halfhearted nod. Against Grayson and Heath, what chance did Nigel have?

“The talk of you two is all over town,” Esther said, the governess in her evident as she shook her head. “At least Nigel and I were discreet.”

“Because I covered for you,” Jane pointed out.

“Yes. Yes, you did. And don't think we're not grateful. Of course Nigel's father will cut him off without tuppence now that our marriage is public knowledge. But it's you who are the immediate concern. When Nigel and I rushed to London to rescue you, your ruination was all everyone could talk about. What on earth possessed you to do this, my dear?”

“The same thing that possessed you and Nigel, I imagine.”

“Nigel and I were shocked to the teeth when we found that your parents had washed their hands of you and retreated to the country.”

“Well—”

“Never fear. We shall not abandon you in your hour of shame and notoriety as your family has,” Esther said consolingly.

“That's very kind of you,” Jane replied, not quite ready to be taken into custody yet. “But I'm bearing up well, and I do have Uncle Giles.”

“You are not bearing up well at all,” Esther insisted. “You are deluded by your passion for Sedgecroft.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because I have battled similar temptations in the course of my career as a governess.” Esther's light brown eyes misted over with memories. “There was a duke once . . . oh, never mind. The problem is, what to do with
you.
”

“I am perfectly capable of managing my own affairs.”

“The fact that you are in this house contradicts that statement.” Esther released a sigh. “Perhaps we shall think up a solution on the way back to London.”

“London?”

“Yes, Jane. Nigel and I must face his parents together and place you under our protection. Unless of course Nigel can persuade Sedgecroft to do right by you.”

Jane smiled. “Grayson has already asked for my hand.”

“Oh. Well, then. You must stay with us anyway, Jane, until the talk dies down.”

“For once, Esther, just for once, I really would like a say in my life. Just a word here and there, mind you. A chance to offer an opinion.”

Esther gave her a level look. “You should not have fallen in love with a Boscastle.”

“I hardly had a choice in that matter,” Jane replied, remembering her first encounter with Grayson, and how her life had taken so many intriguing turns after that. “In fact, I do not understand even now how I lost my heart to him.”

“None of us ever do, Jane. For all my wisdom and experience with handling wayward young males, even I could not resist my sweet Nigel, and every day I thank heaven that his cousins did not manage to corrupt him.”

 

Nigel had downed two glasses of port before scraping up the nerve to come to the point. The knowledge that Esther was probably listening at the door emboldened him. It also terrified him. He would rather face Grayson blindfolded in a duel than return to the wrath of his pregnant wife.

“There is only one solution, as I see it,” he announced, covertly fanning away the cloud of cigar smoke that Heath had blown toward him.

“Solution to what?” Grayson asked. He was stretched out on the sofa with his eyes half closed.

“To this . . . this mistress mess that Jane has fallen into.” There. He'd said it without actually accusing Grayson again of being the villain who had pushed her into the aforementioned fall.

“I think he ought to marry her,” Heath said.

Grayson sat up. “Really?”

“It would tie up a few loose threads,” Nigel said, hiding his relief.

“Then you think it is an acceptable answer?” Grayson asked, as if the idea had never entered his mind before this very moment. “I could count on you to convince Jane to accept the proposal? Being her best friend, and all.”

“Why, yes.” Nigel was so flattered at being in on a conspiracy with his two cousins he completely lost sight of his original objective. “I will do my utmost to persuade her, providing . . .”

“Providing what?” Heath said, his eyes narrowing.

“I shall have to ask Esther's advice first, of course. As a mere courtesy to her condition.”

“Does she still wield that rod of hers?” Grayson asked, turning his head.

Nigel flushed; it still stung to remember all the times he had been excluded from the boisterous Boscastle clan. “I hardly know how to react to such a question,” he said in embarrassment.

“I think she still has it,” Grayson said.

Heath grinned devilishly. “I think you're right.”

Chapter 26

So it had come to this, Grayson mused as he stood in his bedroom window to watch the loading of his traveling coach below. Back to London with the woman he loved. He and Jane would retrace the steps of their scandalous affair in a socially acceptable manner.

Only to end up where they had started. At a wedding altar. Neither one would escape this time either. The two of them would be married to each other if they had to complete the ceremony in chains. Grayson had no intention of letting Jane get the better of him again.

He glanced back into the room where they had become so intimate that his skin burned at the memory. Heaven only knew how many silly dances and picnics he would attend with her before he enjoyed her in his bed again. He felt a bit like the devil chasing after his own tail, but there had never been any doubt that he would catch her.

He wondered whether this balance they had found would last or would fluctuate throughout their marriage. They understood each other now. He had a feeling the days of deceiving each other had ended. Yet he was certain there was not another woman who could unsettle him as Jane did. He was certain she would challenge him mightily in the years to come.

He would not have it any other way.

 

Jane stared from the coach window at the elegant seaside villa. She felt a pang of regret at leaving the house where she and Grayson had ended their masquerade. Still, it was gratifying to know he had never brought another woman here before. If he had, she might have been forced to insist he sell the place. Now they could return throughout the years for nostalgic holidays.

She sat back against the squabs with a sigh. She missed him, even though he was following in his own vehicle right behind her. She wished she were at his side rather than in the smothering care of Nigel and Esther. They treated her like an abandoned child they had just rescued from an orphanage.

“We shall all travel the road back to respectability together,” Esther said heartily.

And Jane had to smile. It was good to have the comfort of friends when one had almost ruined one's life.

She was relieved to find her family back in residence at their Grosvenor Square home when she and her entourage of protectors arrived in London. Her father embraced her in a crushing hug, his face pinched with emotion. She had not expected this, had not realized how she had missed her parents. Their heartfelt anxiety forced her to forgive them for the trick they had played on her.

In fact, forgiveness seemed to be in order all the way around. They forgave her. She forgave them. They were even polite to Nigel and Esther, acting like true aristocrats, as if the sabotaged wedding had never happened.

“Well, then,” Lord Belshire said as he served brandy and biscuits to his guests, “all we lack is Sedgecroft for our little reunion. Where is your fiancé, Jane?”

Jane paused, a petit four halfway to her mouth. “We aren't officially engaged yet, Papa.”

Her father looked as if he might faint. He glanced helplessly at his wife, who had managed to decode this mystery from what Simon had told her. “There is to be a period of courtship, Howard.”

He turned a ghastly shade of gray. “Why? I mean, the contract is signed. They courted. Yes, they did. In this very town, in this house. I saw them with my own eyes. I—” The cool smile on his wife's face told him to expect no help from that quarter. “I thought it was a courtship,” he finished lamely. “Was I wrong?”

Athena's mouth tightened in warning. She had been so guilt-ridden, so worried about her daring eldest daughter during Jane's stay in Brighton that she was determined to mend the breach. Even if it meant naysaying Howard for the first time in their relatively peaceful marriage. “It wasn't a proper courtship, Howard.”

“Proper?” He blinked, once, twice, like an owl exposed to a burst of bright light. “As if anything in this household has been proper of late. Pregnant governesses. Sabotaged weddings. Conspiracies in every corner.”

Nigel looked down at his plate. Jane nibbled her petit four with a pensive expression. Caroline and Miranda sat on the sofa like a pair of statues with their heads bend over a scrapbook. Esther took a third pastry.

“A courtship,” Athena said, drawing a breath, “will put an end to the gossip once and for all.”

“Only if it ends in a marriage,” Howard said, staring at his wife in frozen horror as another possibility struck him. “This
is
all going to end in a marriage between them, isn't it? Jane isn't going to change her
mind again
?”

“Honestly, dear,” his wife said with an impatient shake of her head, “one simply cannot answer that question without spoiling all the romance.”

 

It was a question that had clearly been answered to the satisfaction of Jane's two younger sisters. By candlelight in Caroline's bedchamber the pair poured over fashion plates and menus in preparation for the grand event.

“We'll have to start completely from scratch,” Caroline said, stretched out across the bed. “Jane cannot wear the same gown.”

“Should we invite Nigel?” Miranda asked.

“Yes, but we will have to reserve an entire pew for the Chasteberry. The woman must be carrying triplets.”

“Do you think Grayson will invite his past mistresses this time?”

Caroline's eyes glimmered with mischief. “I think he at least ought to ask Jane first, although they do bring a certain flavor with them.”

“I'll say.”

Caroline rolled onto her back, sending lists and sketches fluttering to the floor. “Can we get that French chef from Gunter's again?”

“We'll want new dresses, too,” Miranda murmured.

“I wonder if Drake and Devon will show up this time,” Caroline said absently.

“I should think so. They seem to be a close family.”

“A scandalous one.”

“And passionate.”

“So are we.”

Miranda perked up. “What? Passionate or scandalous?”

“I think the potential is there for both.”

Caroline gazed up at the plump
amorini
romping on the plasterwork ceiling. “We should have known that Jane had something devilish in mind when she balked at the fitting for her trousseau. She never wanted to entice Nigel.”

“How could we have known?” Miranda drew a bride holding a bouquet of weeds and droopy roses in her sketchbook. “Would you ever consider sabotaging your own wedding?”

“I'm going to elope,” Caroline said. “If I ever meet the man of my dreams, I shall carry him right to the altar myself.”