How to Seduce a Scoundrel

by Vicky Dreiling

He started to turn away when Montague’s voice halted him.

  “Damn you, Hawk. Someone needs to take responsibility for the girl.”

  Hawk strode around the table and loomed over his brother-in-law. “You’ve no say in the matter.” Then he lowered his voice. “You will remember my warning.”

  Montague glared but held his tongue. Hawk gave him an evil smile. At Christmas, the man had made one too many disparaging remarks about Patience. Hawk had taken him aside and threatened to beat him to a pulp if he ever treated her disrespectfully again.

  As he and Tristan strode away, Hawk muttered, “Bloody brute.”

  “Montague resents your political influence, your fortune, and your superior height. He feels inferior and engages in pissing matches to prove he’s manly.”

  Hawk wished Montague to the devil. The man had campaigned for his sister’s hand and showered her with affection. He’d shown his true colors shortly after the wedding.

  When they walked into the study, the scent of leather permeated the room. Hawk set the candle branch on the mantel and slumped into one of the cross-framed chairs before the huge mahogany desk. The grate was empty, making the room chilly. He never made use of the study. Years ago, he’d taken rooms at the Albany. His family had disapproved, but he’d needed to escape his father’s stranglehold.

  Tristan surveyed the surroundings and sat next to Hawk. “The study is virtually unchanged since your father’s death.”

  He’d died suddenly of a heart seizure eight years ago, closing off any chance of reconciliation between them. A foolish thought. There was nothing he could have done to change his father’s opinion of him.

  “Your father was a good man,” Tristan said. “His advice was invaluable to me.”

  “He admired you,” Hawk said.

  Tristan had single-handedly restored his fortune after discovering his late wastrel father had left him in monstrous debt.

  “I envied your freedom,” Tristan said.

  “I had an easy time compared to you.” Hawk’s father had never let him forget it, either. Unbidden, the words his father had spoken more than a dozen years ago echoed in his brain. Do you even know how much it will cost to satisfy Westcott’s honor?

  He mentally slammed the door on the memory. “Old boy, your sister may prefer to stay with one of her friends, but I advise you to refuse if she wishes to stay with Lady Georgette. I heard a nasty rumor about her brother. Evidently, Ramsey got a maid with child.” No honorable gentleman ever took advantage of servants.

  Tristan’s face showed his revulsion. “Good Lord. He’s disgusting.”

  “If you prefer, take your sister to Amy Hardwick’s mother.”

  “No, your aunt is right. Mrs. Hardwick should concentrate on her own daughter.” Tristan frowned. “I cannot impose.”

  Tristan probably felt a bit guilty because Amy and Georgette had devoted their entire season last year to his unusual courtship. “My aunt is a cheeky old bird, but she’s harmless enough. Hester will enjoy squiring Julianne about town.”

  Tristan glanced sideways at Hawk. “I’ve a favor to ask.”

  A strange presentiment washed over Hawk. He’d known Tristan since they were in leading strings, because their mothers were bosom friends. At Eton, he and Tristan had banded together to evade the older boys who liked to torment the younger ones. Hawk knew his friend well, but he’d no idea what Tristan intended to ask of him.

  Tristan drew in a breath. “Will you act as my sister’s unofficial guardian?”

  Hawk laughed. “Me, a guardian? Surely you jest.”

  “As soon as the fortune hunters discover I’m out of the picture, they’ll hover like vultures over Julianne. I won’t feel easy unless a solid man is there to protect her from rakes.”

  “But… but I’m a rake,” he sputtered. Of course, she’d blossomed into an uncommonly lovely young woman, but she was his friend’s sister. Even among rakes, it was a point of honor to avoid friends’ sisters.

  “You’ve watched my sister grow up the same way I have,” Tristan said. “She’s almost like a sister to you.”

  He’d never thought of her that way. To him, she was simply Julie-girl, always ready for a bit of mischief. He never grew tired of daring her to do something unladylike, but she’d never once backed down. “Old boy, you know I’m fond of her, but I’m not fit to be anybody’s guardian.”

  “You’ve always looked out for her,” Tristan said.

  Guilt spurted in his chest. His own family thought him an irresponsible rogue, with good reason. He didn’t even know how to locate his own brother. But clearly Tristan had complete faith in him.

  Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should stay in London to watch over Julianne, but I cannot bear to leave my wife. No matter what I do, I’ll feel as if I’ve wronged one of them.”

  Ah, hell. Tristan had never asked for a favor before. He was like a brother to him. Damn it all. He couldn’t refuse. “Anything for you, old boy.”

  “Thank you,” Tristan said. “There’s one more thing. You’re not going to like it.”

  He lifted his brows. “Oh?”

  Tristan narrowed his eyes. “You will give up raking for the duration of the season.”

  He laughed. “What?”

  “You heard me. There will be no ballerinas, actresses, or courtesans. Call them what you will, but you will not associate with whores while guarding my sister.”

  He scoffed. “It’s not as if I’d flaunt a mistress in your sister’s face.”

  “Your liaisons are famous.” Tristan tapped his thumb on the arm of the chair. “I’ve often suspected you delight in your bad reputation.”

  He made jests about his numerous mistresses. Everyone, including his friend, believed his tall tales. While he was a bona fide rake, Hawk couldn’t possibly live up—or was that down?—to the exaggerated reports about his conquests. “I’ll not agree to celibacy,” he said.

  “You don’t even try to be discreet. Julianne adores you. I don’t want her disillusioned.”

  “I’ll keep my liaisons quiet,” Hawk grumbled.

  “Agreed,” Tristan said.

  He’d better forget the ménage á trois with Nell and Nancy. It rather aggrieved him, since he’d never dallied with two women at once, but he couldn’t possibly keep that sort of wicked business under the proverbial covers.

  Tristan tapped his thumb again. “Write periodically and let me know how my sister fares.”

  “I will,” Hawk said. “Don’t worry. Julianne will grow accustomed to my aunt’s blunt manners.”

  “When the babe is born, bring my sister home to me.” He smiled. “Tessa already asked Julianne to be godmother. Will you be godfather?”

  A knot formed in his chest, but he forced a laugh. “You would trust a rogue like me with your child?”

  “There is no one I trust more than you, my friend.”

  Hawk cut his gaze away, knowing he didn’t deserve his friend’s regard.

  Chapter Two

  A Lady’s Secrets of Seduction: When in doubt of his feelings, seek advice from your friends.

  The next day at Hester’s town house

  No one could resist Hawk. Not even the dogs.

  Julianne laughed as the two King Charles spaniels abandoned Hester and the bits of cake she was feeding them. The bug-eyed creatures’ tails wagged as they barked and ran circles around Hawk’s feet.

  Hester clapped her hands. “Caro, Byron, cease!”

  They whined and pawed him. “Mind the boots,” he said. Then he bent to ruffle their long fur. The two spaniels sat on their haunches, panting with doggy ecstasy.

  “You’ve managed to charm them,” Julianne said. “I’m quite jealous, you know. They are not nearly so fond of me.”

  He looked up and winked. “Ah, but I am.”

  His words cheered her. After not having seen him for nine long months, she’d worried that things might prove awkward between them. Yesterday, they had been surrounded by so many other
s, and then he’d spent most of his time closeted in the study with her brother. Today, however, she felt as if the months had melted like snow.

  Hester shifted on a red sofa with two horrid, gilded sphinxes rising up from the armrests. “Well, Nephew, do you not have a kiss for your aunt?”

  With a slow grin, Hawk straightened his tall, powerful frame and approached her. Naturally, the dogs followed. After he deposited a smacking kiss on his aunt’s powdered jowl, she tapped him with her fan. “Your cravat is crooked, and your hair is mussed.”

  Julianne grinned. Only Hawk could make such careless attire seem boyishly handsome. As always, his unruly mahogany locks looked windblown, a consequence of his tendency to twirl his top hat rather than wear it.

  “You’ve not seen my drawing room since I made it over last season,” Hester said. “I’ve developed a passion for the Egyptian style.”

  He strolled over to a glass case. Then he regarded Julianne over his shoulder with a devilish expression. “Aunt, is the mummy authentic?”

  “It is a reproduction,” Hester said. “But the ornamented scrolls on the ceiling are true antiquities.”

  Julianne bit back a smile at the hideous décor. Golden pharaoh statues, pyramids, and urns cluttered the numerous black tables. Many of the furnishings featured enormous clawed feet. Fortunately, Hester had shown her to a sedate bedchamber early this morning. Julianne had almost wilted with relief. Dear God, she’d feared she would have to sleep among mummies.

  “Do be seated,” Hester said to Hawk.

  The dogs followed him to the sofa where Julianne sat. Hawk regarded the dogs and pointed at the carpet. “Sit.”

  The spaniels complied and lolled their tongues.

  “You’ve made a conquest of my pets,” Hester said.

  He slouched beside Julianne. “Alas, I fear Byron has a prior claim on Caro’s affections. My heart is broken.”

  Julianne rolled her eyes, but truthfully, she’d missed his silly jests. During the long months of autumn and winter, she’d held out hope that he would visit her family. He’d never stayed away so long before. She’d agonized over his absence and feared he’d formed an attachment with someone else. Last night, Patience had whispered she hoped to call her sister soon. Julianne’s hopes had soared, knowing his family would approve.

  Hawk’s voice startled her. “Your brother left early this morning as planned?”

  She nodded. “Your mother and sisters departed at the same time.” Of course, her brother had given her all sorts of dire warnings. But when he’d hugged her, she’d known he’d only lectured her because he worried about her.

  Hester eyed Julianne. “Will you serve tea?”

  She rose and walked over to the tray. Hawk and the dogs followed. When she sliced a generous portion of cake, he broke off a piece and ate it before she could set it on the plate. “Mmmm. Breakfast.”

  “It’s well past noon, you heathen,” she said.

  “The usual waking hour for a gentleman of leisure.” He winked as he sucked a crumb off his finger.

  She couldn’t breathe. An image popped into her head of Hawk taking her face in his hands. She imagined his lips descending to hers. More than a few of her beaux had tried to kiss her, but she’d never let them. She wanted to save all her kisses for Hawk.

  Her thoughts whirled as she poured tea. Although she had no experience, she’d seen her brother kiss his wife, Tessa, swiftly on the lips more than a few times. Julianne had thought their kissing sweet. Once, however, she’d gone back to the drawing room to retrieve her novel and saw Tessa sitting on Tristan’s lap. They were kissing with their tongues. Shocked, she’d fled before they saw her.

  Hawk took the teacup from her, drained every last drop, and set it aside. She laughed. “More?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She poured a cup for Hester and took it to her. Hester gave her a piercing look. Julianne stiffened, wondering if she’d somehow displeased Hawk’s aunt.

  “Come sit with me, Julianne, and let us talk,” Hawk said.

  The spaniels followed as Hawk led her back to the sofa. He sat next to her again. The dogs perched at his feet, looking up at him hopefully. He stretched out his long legs, drawing her attention. His tight trousers showed off his muscular thighs.

  “Julie-girl?” he said.

  Her face flamed. Oh, dear, had he caught her ogling him?

  His mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “Did your brother tell you he asked me to act as your unofficial guardian?”

  “Yes.” After Tristan had informed her, Julianne had struggled not to reveal her excitement. However, she suspected her mother would object, but her brother had made the decision. As far as Julianne could tell, Tristan did not suspect her feelings for Hawk. Of course, her mother had guessed. Before Julianne had left home, Mama had privately told her to cease her girlish infatuation. According to her, it was a sure path to heartache.

  Julianne meant to prove her mother wrong.

  “I promised to escort you to balls and other entertainments,” Hawk said. “You needn’t worry. I’ll not interfere with all the cubs who worship at your feet.”

  Her stomach clenched. Did he think she preferred the younger men? She must let him know that wasn’t true. “I’ve no interest in boys who stare and stutter.”

  “They’re too awed to be dangerous,” Hawk said. “I’ll keep the scoundrels far away.”

  “I know you will protect me,” she said. He’d always looked out for her, even when she was a little girl.

  Hester regarded her with a warning expression. Julianne bit her lip, fearing Hawk’s aunt thought her a shameless flirt.

  Hawk gave his aunt a lazy smile. “Be sure to send me a list of Julianne’s invitations.”

  “Ridiculous,” Hester said, her voice overly loud. “There’s no need for you to dog the gel’s heels.”

  Julianne inhaled. Oh, no, Hester would ruin everything.

  “Ah, but a promise is a promise.” He tweaked the curl by her ear. “You don’t mind, do you, Julie-girl?”

  She shook her head and pictured him lying on his side next to her beneath a canopy of trees. He would pull her curl and say, I want to kiss you.

  The fantasy popped like a soap bubble at the sound of his voice. “Now, I shall leave you ladies to your tea and tittle-tattle.”

  She rose with him. “Must you go so soon?”

  “Afraid so. Au revoir.” He quit the drawing room, with Byron and Caro yapping as they scampered after him.

  Julianne released a wistful sigh and sank onto the sofa.

  “You’ll never catch him if you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  Hester’s voice startled her. “I-I’ve no idea what you mean.”

  “Of course you do. You make your tender feelings obvious enough.”

  She winced. Mama had said the same thing, but Julianne could not help herself. She loved him.

  Hester considered her for a long moment. “What you need are lessons in amore.”

  She regarded Hester warily, unsure what she had in mind. “You are too kind, but I would not impose upon you.” She doubted the eccentric Hester would dispense any useful advice and hoped she would forget the matter.

  “Nonsense, I shall be happy to instruct you,” Hester said.

  As a guest, Julianne could not refuse without giving insult. She reminded herself she was only obliged to listen.

  Hester pointed her quizzing glass at her. “If you wish to snag my nephew, you must use your wiles.”

  She didn’t know if she had any wiles, but perhaps she should get some.

  “First, we must devise a plan of seduction,” Hester said.

  Julianne froze. Mama had always insisted she must guard her virtue at all costs. “Er, is that not improper?”

  “My dear, I’ve wedded, bedded, and buried five husbands. And I promise you, the way to a man’s heart is through his nether region.”

  A bonfire engulfed her cheeks. No wonder Lady Hawkfield had worried about leaving
Hester in charge.

  “I see your blushes, gel,” Hester said. “Mark me. The only way to tame a rake is to persuade him you’ll keep him happier than a courtesan in the marriage bed.”

  She cringed at Hester’s frank speech. “What about love?”

  “First comes lust. Then comes marriage,” Hester said.

  Julianne lowered her lashes to hide her revulsion. In comparison to her dreams of romance, Hester’s description of courtship sounded, well, sordid.

  Surely it was not wrong to yearn for sweet declarations of forever after. She’d become smitten with Hawk at the tender age of eight. That was the year her father had died. Hawk had arrived at her family’s country estate that summer, and his teasing had mended her sorrow. She’d adored him, and then when she’d made her come-out at seventeen, he’d danced with her. She’d fallen madly in love, and every night afterward, she’d dreamed of marrying him.

  Hawk had not danced with her since that evening, but she knew he’d thought her too young. He’d waited for her to grow up. She was sure of it, almost positive. And she would not give up her dream. Because the very thought of having anything less than his love scared her witless.

  “Now, now. There is no need to look so crestfallen,” Hester said. “The trick is to steadily increase a man’s ardor.”

  At the promise of a practical suggestion, Julianne lifted her hopeful gaze.

  “Your first task is to practice a come-hither look. Now use those pretty blue eyes to your advantage.”

  Julianne took a deep breath, imagining Hawk kneeling on bended knee before her. She saw him in her mind’s eye, begging her to make him the happiest of men.

  “Dash it, gel. You look like a lovesick calf. Pretend you’re trying to lure him into the boudoir.”

  “But I would never!” Oh, Hester’s advice was very bad. She must not listen to another word.

  Hester snorted. “Of course, you are not to act upon it. You must convey with your eyes that you find him desirable.”

  Julianne clutched her hands. Her mother would swoon if she knew Hester had advised her to act like a strumpet.

  “You suffer from unrequited love. At all costs, you must avoid showing it,” Hester said. “If he is secure in your affections, there is no challenge for him.”