“You were angry at my nephew last night,” Hester said.
“He insists on following my every move. It is quite provoking,” she said. But last night, she’d glimpsed a different side of him. He was truly concerned that Ramsey could prove dangerous to her. Of course, it was silly of him. She could manage Ramsey, whether Hawk believed her or not.
“My nephew is fighting his attraction to you because of the promise he made to your brother,” Hester said. “Enchant him and build a slow fire. At all costs, however, you must not let him get close too soon.”
Julianne’s cheeks heated. She rose and walked to the window to avoid Hester’s scrutiny. Of course, she’d failed miserably when she’d let him kiss her. She’d not even tried to resist him, even though he’d made his disinterest clear at the ball. Had she secretly hoped that their kiss meant more than mere lust to him?
“Gel, what is wrong?”
She dared not look at Hester. Mama had always said all her thoughts showed on her face, and Julianne did not want Hester to see her tumultuous emotions. “All I want is to complete the pamphlet so that I may help other single ladies.”
“You have given up on my nephew?”
She ought to have given up long ago. He didn’t love her, and she would not demean herself in pursuit of his heart. With a deep breath, she mustered her courage and faced Hester. “That door is closed.”
Hester gave her a knowing look.
She turned to the window again. Drops of rain pattered the wavy glass. Hester didn’t believe her, but Julianne had meant every word. She’d spent too many years wanting and waiting for him. “It will be some time before I’m ready to open my heart again,” she said.
Hester sighed. “Ah, the trials of young love. I remember it all so well.”
Julianne returned to the sofa. “Tell me about your first beau.”
“Well, he was not my beau, though I certainly admired him from afar.”
“Did he not return your feelings?” Julianne asked.
“We exchanged words occasionally and longing looks. But he dared not declare himself.” Hester regarded Julianne with a bittersweet smile. “You see, he was my father’s steward and completely unsuitable.”
“Oh, no,” Julianne said. “Your heart must have been broken.”
“I was to undergo a far greater heartache. Unbeknownst to me, my parents had arranged my marriage—to a man more than twice my age.”
Julianne gasped. “You must have been horrified.”
“I wept for days, but I had no choice. He wasn’t the most attentive of men, and he was displeased that I didn’t bear him an heir.”
Julianne covered her mouth, realizing Hester must have suffered greatly.
“But three years later, he died of a heart seizure.” She smiled at Julianne. “He left me a considerable fortune, and as a widow, I had far more freedom. Back then, I was young and attracted the attention of many a handsome gentleman.”
“But you remarried four more times,” Julianne said.
“Loneliness, I suppose,” Hester said. “Well, that’s quite enough of my history. You must work on your pamphlet if you are to finish it in a timely manner.”
Julianne hesitated a moment but decided to take a page from Hester and speak frankly. “Is Mr. Peckham the gentleman who will make arrangements for publication?”
Hester shook her finger. “The less you know the better.”
Julianne wondered if Mr. Peckham was Hester’s first love, but she would not pry about such a personal matter, one that had clearly caused such grief. If Hester wanted her to know, she would tell her.
“Once the pamphlet is published, I can observe the other single ladies for signs they are following The Secrets of Seduction,” Julianne said.
“Perhaps you should test some of the ideas in advance,” Hester said. “To ensure they work properly.”
Julianne regarded her clasped hands. She could not tell Hester about her vengeance plan, but her conscience bothered her. Hester had been so kind to her, and she was purposely deceiving her.
Hester patted her hand. “Go along now. You must complete the pamphlet quickly if we are to see it published well before the season ends.”
Julianne nodded and hurried upstairs to the desk, determined to scrub thoughts of Hawk from her head. An hour later, she set her pen aside and read her latest entry.
Confidence is the key to becoming irresistible. Sweep away feelings of inadequacy. A woman who is assured of herself exudes a mysterious quality, one that makes her alluring to gentlemen. You need not have excessive beauty. It is said that Anne Boleyn was only moderately attractive, but her vivacity and quick wit drew gentlemen to her side. Her elusiveness made her all the more desirable. It is that inexplicable quality you must convey if you are to attract the attention of gentlemen.
Excitement raced through her veins. She was certain the pamphlet would be a roaring success.
Predictably, the food was cold, and his dining partner, Wallingham’s daughter, was tongue-tied.
Hawk recalled the sizzling beefsteak at his club and sighed inwardly. Hopefully soon, the ladies would take their leave. It was a sad commentary on his life as a guardian that he actually looked forward to sipping port while the gents passed round a chamber pot at the bloody table. A pissing good time, he thought wryly.
Husky, feminine laughter drew his attention to Julianne. She sat beside the Earl of Wallingham’s brash young heir, Edmund, Viscount Beaufort. Hawk noted Beaufort’s gaze straying to Julianne’s low-cut bodice. The devil. Of course, all the ladies showed off their bosoms in a similar manner, though some, like the silent Lady Eugenia, had little to display.
“Well, Hawk,” Lord Wallingham said from the head of the table, “I heard all your family is in Bath with your ailing great-grandmother.”
Lady Eugenia finally found her squeaky voice. “I am sorry to hear of her illness, my lord.”
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Just the usual heart palpitations.”
Eugenia looked horrified. “My lord?”
“She feigns illness for attention,” Hawk said.
“B-but why?” Eugenia asked.
Was she deaf? “For attention.”
“Oh.” Eugenia once again lapsed into silence.
Hawk forked a bite of congealed potatoes into his mouth and instantly regretted it. He managed to hide his revulsion by washing the food down with a gulp of wine.
Wallingham eyed Hawk. “Now that Shelbourne has taken vows, I expect you’ll be on the lookout for a bride. Can’t be outdone by the duke.”
Hester, who sat farther down the table, smirked at Hawk.
He set his glass aside, suspecting Wallingham had hopes of foisting Eugenia off on him. “I daresay no one can top Shelbourne’s spectacular match.”
Julianne regarded Hawk with a smile. “Their engagement was truly the event of the decade.”
Hawk winked at her. Only he and her family had known ahead of time that Tristan meant to propose to the former Miss Mansfield at a ball last spring.
Lady Wallingham patted her lips with her napkin and spoke up from the other end of the table. “Lord Hawkfield, you must take a bride soon. It is your duty.”
“Madam, I assure you my immediate duty is to fulfill my role as guardian to Lady Julianne.” Weeks and weeks of guarding her from half the lust-crazed bachelors of the ton. He’d be lucky if he didn’t go mad in the process.
“Yes, but that does not preclude you from marrying,” Lady Wallingham persisted.
“Well, we have high hopes,” Hester said. “He showed some interest in matrimony when he got engaged last year. Unfortunately, it lasted only one hour.”
Eugenia dropped her fork onto the plate. “Oh, dear,” she murmured.
All the other guests stared at Hawk with astonishment.
Beaufort leaned forward. “The lady jilted you after only one hour?”
Hawk let out a melodramatic sigh. “I fear so. It seems I’m doomed to bachelorhood for li
fe.”
Julianne shook her head. “His engagement was a jest.”
Noting Wallingham’s deep frown, Hawk figured he was safe from any further coercion and sipped his wine.
“Lady Julianne, you must have marital aspirations,” Lady Wallingham said.
“Her brother doesn’t want to rush her,” Hawk said. Julianne could wait another year—when he didn’t have to watch.
“But this is her fourth season,” Lady Wallingham said. “She is of age and must long to make an advantageous marriage.”
“I only long to dance and shop,” Julianne said.
Lady Wallingham tittered. “Such an amusing young lady. Do you not agree, Edmund?”
“Oh, yes, very,” Beaufort said. “Quite jolly.”
Lady Wallingham persisted. “I daresay there may be one young man who will capture her heart. Do you not agree, dear Edmund?”
Dear Edmund looked as if he’d eaten something rotten. “Of course.”
Hawk gave Julianne a conspiratorial wink. “Alas, my ward has left a trail of broken hearts in her path. She has stringent requirements for a husband. No man can please her.”
Beaufort’s shoulders slumped, presumably with relief. He might not mind ogling Julianne, but given his youth, he probably had no intention of giving up sowing wild oats anytime soon.
Lady Wallingham sniffed. “Well, perhaps we should discuss the matter in the drawing room, Lady Julianne.”
“That is very kind of you, Lady Wallingham, but I have no wish to monopolize you when you have other guests.”
Hawk grinned at the edge in Julianne’s voice.
“Nonsense,” Lady Wallingham said. “I shall be happy to instruct you.”
Julianne stabbed her fork into a stewed partridge.
Hawk cleared his throat to get her attention. “The bird looks dead to me.”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his wits. “I beg your pardon?”
He shrugged. “No need to kill it.”
Lady Eugenia choked and covered half her crimson face in her napkin. Beaufort laughed, earning him a quelling look from his mother.
After the dessert courses, the ladies withdrew. Wallingham brought out the port and the pot beneath the sideboard.
Hawk leaned back in his chair. Let the pissing begin.
When the gentlemen entered the drawing room, Julianne breathed a sigh of relief. For the past hour, Lady Wallingham had made Julianne her concern and proceeded to warn her of the dangers of staying single too long. According to her, Julianne was in grave peril of finding herself collecting dust on the spinster shelf. Julianne had borne the lecture with amusement, but the woman had persisted beyond all reason and kept asking her if she agreed. Lady Wallingham had not even waited for an answer before continuing.
Upon setting eyes on the gentlemen, Lady Wallingham beckoned her son. “There you are at long last. Edmund, you must turn the pages for Julianne while she plays the pianoforte.”
All too eager to escape the woman, Julianne popped up from her chair. She’d not practiced in weeks, but she didn’t care if she assaulted everyone’s ears.
The young man dutifully escorted her toward the instrument. She saw Hawk frowning and lifted her chin as she walked past him. Let him watch, she thought as she turned a bright smile on Beaufort. At dinner, she’d fallen in with Hawk’s jests, but only to divert Lady Wallingham.
Hawk strolled to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy he didn’t want. He needed to do something while he tried to sort out what was eating at his gut—besides the potatoes.
At dinner, he’d felt as if he and Julianne were in perfect accord. It had seemed like the old days when she’d readily joined him in a lark. Six days ago, he’d seen her for the first time in nine months. And she’d greeted him with laughter in her eyes.
But everything had changed the night of the ball. He hadn’t understood her behavior then, and he didn’t now. All he knew was that she’d blown hot and cold ever since he’d refused to let Ramsey dance with her.
When Julianne played a discordant note, he glanced at her. If he’d been the one turning the pages, he would have banged on the keys to divert attention away from her mistake, as he’d done so many times before. In the past, she’d laughed and called him a rogue. Now he wondered if she would glare at him for his antics.
After she played the last note, everyone applauded. Beaufort leaned over her, and she laughed at something he said. The young man’s gaze strayed to her bosom again. Hawk stiffened. Every instinct he possessed urged him to stride over there and plant Beaufort a facer for leering at her.
He made himself stand there and do nothing. Because she’d accused him of hovering over her and acting like a jealous husband.
He wasn’t jealous. He only wanted to protect her.
But as Beaufort led her over to the window seat, Hawk looked away.
Julianne grew a bit anxious as she sat beside Beaufort on the window seat. Lady Wallingham watched them with a satisfied smile. Clearly she thought to promote a match. The last thing Julianne wanted was to mislead Beaufort. She tried to think of some way to tell him that she wanted only his friendship, but she concluded that saying such a thing would sound presumptuous and conceited. Drat it all. She must say something to discourage him, without giving offense.
She needn’t have worried. Beaufort started nattering endlessly about a new curricle he meant to purchase. His eyes gleamed covetously as he described every detail. While he spoke of single axles and the dimensions of the wheels, she turned her thoughts inward to the pamphlet.
Now that she’d finished her chapter on becoming irresistible, she decided her next secret should involve witty banter.
When a gentleman approaches, keep your conversation witty and light. You may be anxious to continue the discussion, but do not linger. Doing so will only make him too confident of your regard, and he may lose interest. Flit about the ballroom and let him see that you are popular with ladies and gentlemen alike.
If only she had pen and paper at her disposal, she could scribble her thoughts immediately. Of course, she could not do so in the drawing room. The moment she returned home, she would record her thoughts. She smiled at the image of all those smug bachelors chasing after the disinterested single ladies.
“I can see you are pleased for me,” Beaufort said.
His words made her recollect her manners. “Well, I imagine it is akin to the way I feel when I purchase a new bonnet.”
He laughed. “It’s a bit more exciting than that.”
His arrogance vexed her. Clearly he thought his male interests far superior to hers.
He took her hands, startling her. “If all goes well, I’ll make the purchase within a week. Now I must have your promise that you will take a drive with me in the park.”
Oh, dear. She couldn’t refuse without wounding him. Then an idea popped into her head. She fixed a vacuous expression on her face. “I’m forgetful sometimes. Perhaps you had better ask again after you take possession.”
“I will,” he said.
Rats. He probably wouldn’t forget.
A shadow fell over them. She looked up to find Hawk staring daggers at Beaufort.
Beaufort released her hands.
“We are departing,” Hawk said gruffly.
She took Hawk’s arm, secretly relieved to have escaped Beaufort, single axles, and wheel dimensions.
Chapter Seven
A Scoundrel Guardian’s Advice: Do not ogle your ward’s bosom, no matter how much of it is on display.
The next evening, Hawk escorted his aunt and Julianne into Lord and Lady Durmont’s crowded ballroom. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why the ladies had accepted an invitation to Lady Durmont’s ball when they disliked the woman and her scheming daughter, Lady Elizabeth. But Hester had insisted that everyone who was anyone would be there, and therefore their attendance was necessary.
After his aunt ambled off to gossip with her cronies, he stole another look at Julianne.
Her bodice consisted of little more than a silky scrap of fabric. Being a man, and therefore not much better than a beast, he couldn’t help noticing the creamy swells of her breasts. He recalled the way she’d fit perfectly in his hand as he’d teased her nipple with his thumb. Naturally he imagined freeing her breasts and suckling…
A blast of heat shot down to his groin. Alarmed that she might have caught him ogling her, he jerked his gaze up. She was craning her head and searching the crowd, completely oblivious. The devil. He knew every buck and rake who darkened her path would mentally undress her.
“Your gown is inadequate,” he said.
She frowned at him. “I beg your pardon? It is in the first stare of fashion.”
He lowered his gaze to her breasts again, thinking the barely-there bodice was definitely stare-worthy.
She unfurled her fan. “Stop looking at my bosom.”
“It’s rather difficult to avoid when there is so much of it on display.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen far more in your rakehell career.” She sniffed. “I’m off to find my friends.”
“I’ll help you.”
“You’re not planning to follow me, I hope.”
At that moment, Charles Osgood, the bad poet, caught sight of Julianne. His eyes lit up like twin lanterns as he made a beeline for her.
“I’ve no intention of following,” Hawk said, taking her arm and striding away before Osgood could reach her. “I shall escort you.”
“I do not need an escort,” she said.
“I meant to the dance floor.”
“A gentleman is supposed to ask, not demand.”
“Let me rephrase. May I have the honor of the first dance?”
“The only reason you wish to dance is so that you can keep watch over me,” she said with a haughty toss of her head.
He wasn’t about to admit it. “It’s perfectly correct for a guardian to dance with his ward.”
“Oh? What rule book did you consult?”
How to Seduce a Scoundrel Page 9