How to Seduce a Scoundrel

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How to Seduce a Scoundrel Page 21

by Vicky Dreiling


  Lady Wallingham produced a sheet of paper. “I suggest we all sign a petition to have this wretched pamphlet banned.”

  Julianne sucked in her breath. Oh, no. Her precious pamphlet was in danger of imminent extinction.

  “That would be akin to shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted,” Lady Morley said. “I heard the publisher is rushing a third printing.

  Julianne covered her mouth. Her pamphlet was succeeding beyond her wildest dreams!

  “I see Lady Julianne is shocked,” Lady Boswood said. “I am sorry to expose you to this awful publication, but I feel it necessary to warn you. I will of course write to your mother and assure her that you would never read such rubbish.”

  Georgette hid all but her laughing eyes behind her fan. Julianne shot her a warning look.

  Meanwhile, Lady Wallingham was perusing the pamphlet. “Oh, dear God. The author advises ladies to entice gentlemen with a seductive look.”

  Georgette lowered her fan. “Oh, my. Does the author explain how to achieve such an expression?”

  Lady Boswood made a choked sound and grew limp. “Oh, dear, where are my smelling salts?”

  Mrs. Hardwick and Mrs. Shepherd produced vials to revive Lady Boswood.

  Lady Dunworthy walked over to a desk and opened an inkwell. “Ladies, let us sign the petition, and I will see it delivered to the publisher.”

  As the women and their daughters formed a queue, Julianne pulled Hester aside. “I cannot,” she whispered.

  “Julianne, dearest,” Hester said in a loud voice. “You are very pale. I must rush you home to bed.”

  Lady Boswood clasped her hands to her heart. “Poor Julianne. I fear this has been too much strain for your delicate nature.”

  Julianne obligingly leaned on Hester’s arm. “I do feel a bit light-headed.”

  A few minutes later, they reached the carriage. Once it rolled away, Hester erupted into guffaws.

  Julianne regarded her from the other seat. “I knew it would be controversial, but I never guessed others would vilify it.”

  Hester sighed. “Ah, but it is a roaring success.”

  Julianne looked out the window and frowned. She would consider it a success only if it helped young ladies attract husbands. At the moment, she suspected it was only attracting those who wanted to read something scandalous.

  Three days had passed since that meeting in Lady Dunworthy’s drawing room. Julianne had finally gone for a drive with Beaufort two days ago. The entire time, she’d imagined someone would point a finger at her and declare her the wicked author of The Secrets of Seduction. It was a ridiculous fear, but she’d been a bundle of nerves ever since.

  When Amy and Georgette called to celebrate the publication of the pamphlet, they hugged and congratulated her. Then the maid brought in a tea tray with scones and clotted cream, Julianne’s favorite. The dogs trotted over to the tray. With a smile, Julianne crumbled a bit of scone on a plate for them.

  After the maid left, Hester walked over to the sideboard and returned with the pamphlet. “Perhaps Julianne will agree to read select passages.”

  “Oh, yes, please do,” Amy said.

  “Very well,” Julianne said. As she read, she recalled different events that had taken place while she was writing.

  Georgette regarded her with amazement. “Julianne, you have a rare talent with words.”

  “I agree,” Amy said. “You portray the concerns of single ladies very well.”

  Julianne shook her head. “My phrasing is not eloquent, but plain speech is better suited for the purpose.” Then she regarded Hester and her friends. “I will always remember sharing this special day with all of you.”

  After tea and scones, Julianne could not resist opening the pamphlet again. She turned the pages and found herself amazed all over again to see her words in print. “I fear you will think me vain for admiring my work.”

  “You deserve to be proud,” Hester said.

  Henderson arrived to announce Hawk had called. Julianne hid her pamphlet beneath the sofa cushion and put her finger to her lips to warn her friends. When Hawk sauntered inside, they all rose and curtsied. Seeing her friends’ frozen expressions, Julianne imagined Hawk would notice something was afoot immediately.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I did not mean to interrupt.”

  Amy bobbed a curtsy. “We were on our way out, my lord.”

  After they left, Julianne released her pent-up breath. “I will ring for a fresh pot of tea.”

  “No, thank you,” he said. “It’s a fine day. I thought you might wish to take a drive with me.”

  “What a lovely idea,” Hester said.

  Julianne kept her gaze on Hawk. Had he suggested a ride as a pretext to speak to her privately? The fine hairs on her neck stiffened. What if he’d somehow guessed she’d written the pamphlet? But if he knew, he would have confronted Hester as well. She smiled at him and agreed to the drive, but she suspected Hawk meant to tell her something he didn’t want his aunt to hear.

  The wind blew her bonnet ribbons about as Hawk steered the curricle through the crowded streets. He said nothing during the drive, but the noise of clacking hooves, rumbling wheels, and shouts from street vendors precluded conversation.

  When they entered Hyde Park, he drove along the deserted path for a bit. The fashionable hour wouldn’t start for another three hours. At last he halted the vehicle, jumped down, and strode around to her side. He grasped her by the waist, lifting her as if she weighed little more than a child. A thrill raced through her blood, but she mustn’t let him know.

  After he set her down, he offered his arm. “Shall we walk?”

  She clasped his sleeve, noting he adjusted his stride to accommodate her slower pace. They strolled along the path, a mixture of gravel and bark. He led her to a wrought-iron bench beneath the canopy of a great oak. She clasped her hands on her lap, but her stomach clenched. Something was wrong.

  The wind rustled the leaves. He drew in his breath and looked at her with a solemn expression. “I brought you here so that we could talk privately.”

  She swallowed. “I know.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Beaufort called upon me this morning.”

  She frowned. “He took me for a drive at Rotten Row two days ago. But why would he call on you?”

  Hawk looked at his boots. “I told him I could not grant permission.”

  A stinging sensation rippled along her arms. “For what?”

  Hawk’s jaw worked, but still he would not look at her. “I told him to talk to your brother.” He paused. “He wants to marry you,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “What?!”

  Hawk sat back, his expression guarded.

  She shook her head. “No, I told him and the other four gentlemen that I only wanted friendship.” She stood and started pacing. “I gave him no encouragement during that ride.” She fisted her hands. “I knew it was a mistake to take a drive with him. But I couldn’t refuse because I’d put him off. I didn’t want to wound him.”

  She kicked a pebble. When Hawk said nothing, she halted and shook her finger at him. “You will not blame me. Maybe I should have refused to drive with him, but I didn’t know he would take it into his head to propose.”

  Hawk rose. “You’re not… in love with him?”

  “Of course not.” She drew in a breath. “And this does not count as my thirteenth proposal.”

  A smile tugged at Hawk’s lips. “Since he hasn’t officially asked, I agree.”

  “Damn it. Now I have to find a way to discourage him without injuring his tender sensibilities.”

  Hawk’s shoulders shook with laughter.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “You cursed,” he said.

  “I’ll curse like a sailor if he goes down on bended knee.”

  “Would you prefer I tell him you aren’t interested?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought he understood. And now he
’ll hate me.”

  “You told him and the others you only wanted friendship,” Hawk said. “Perhaps it would help if I told him your brother isn’t likely to grant permission.”

  “No, I think he needs to know the truth,” she said.

  “Since he came to me, I will tell him that you’re not ready for marriage yet. That will soften the blow a bit.”

  When she wiped her gloved finger under her eye, Hawk took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her face. “You did nothing wrong,” he said. “Beaufort obviously didn’t believe you. His pride will take a hit, but he’ll recover.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

  “Better now?”

  “A little,” she said.

  Hawk took her hand, held it high, and twirled her round. Laughing, she begged him to stop. When he did, she staggered from the dizziness.

  He caught her. “Whoa!”

  She braced her hands on his chest. “Everything is moving round and round.”

  He untied the bow beneath her chin, removed her bonnet, and pressed her head to his chest. “Be still. The dizziness will pass.”

  She closed her eyes. Not long after, the world stopped spinning, but she lingered, inhaling his scent, a combination of starch, sandalwood, and him. He’d understood that she was truly overset about Beaufort.

  He nuzzled her hair. “So sweet,” he murmured.

  She wanted to lift her face up to him in a silent plea for his kiss, but she feared what was beating in her heart would show on her face.

  “Are you recovered?” he asked in a low rumble.

  “Yes.” She stepped back and held out her hand. “The bonnet, if you please.”

  He grinned and put it behind his back. “No.”

  “Hawk, give me the bonnet.”

  He wagged his brows. “You’ll have to come and get it.”

  She ought to ignore his prank, but his boyish grin was irresistible. He backed up as she walked toward him. Laughing, she darted around him and almost snatched the bonnet, but he sprinted off.

  Exasperated, she gave chase but lost him. “Rogue,” she muttered, slowing to a walk so that she could catch her breath.

  His arm shot out from behind one of the fat oaks. Her bonnet dangled from his hand. She considered how to best him, and then an idea occurred to her.

  Lifting her skirts, she whirled around and ran as fast as she could toward his curricle. Oh, she’d get him when she drove his precious vehicle off without him. Granted, she had no idea how to drive, but how difficult could it be?

  She grinned at the sound of his running steps far behind her. He’d regret teaching her how to be a hoyden all those years ago. Upon reaching the curricle, she lifted her skirts one-handed above her knees and hoisted herself up onto the wheel. She’d not climbed a tree in years, but at one time, she’d been a veritable monkey in petticoats.

  “Minx,” he yelled as she climbed over the seat to the driver’s side. She was examining the reins when he leaped up the other side. He slid beside her, dropped the bonnet to the floor, and tickled her waist. She shrieked. This playfulness, the sheer joy of being the object of his teasing, all flooded her heart. This was what she’d missed the most.

  When he grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back, she cried out, “Let me go—”

  He swooped in and kissed her. As his tongue slid home, her heart blossomed, and she let him climb right back in. He slowed the rhythm as if he were savoring her. Her skin heated and her breasts felt full. She joined him in the kiss, tangling her tongue with his. Every reason she ought to protect her heart dwindled to nothing as he devoured her mouth.

  Love me, love me, love me.

  He shifted on the seat, causing the curricle to rock. The horses whinnied. He tore his mouth away, leaving her bereft.

  No, no, no. Come back to me.

  “Hush,” he commanded the matched pair of grays.

  They snorted.

  Laughter gurgled in her throat. He regarded her with a wicked expression. “Now would be a good time to slap me.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “You’ll have to release me.”

  His smile fled as he let her go.

  She’d no intention of letting his guilt spoil the day. Julianne grabbed the sides of the curricle in order to leap to the ground. He caught her by the waist and hauled her back. She turned into his arms, meaning to be the aggressor this time.

  The blasted horses whinnied again.

  “Damn it,” she muttered.

  He guffawed.

  “Stop laughing—you’re making the horses nervous,” she said.

  “We’d best leave before my cattle mutiny.” He grasped her bonnet, plunked it onto her head, and tied the bow. “Change places with me.”

  As he steered the curricle out of the park, he kept his eyes on the street. “That should not have happened.”

  “I only felt sorry for you.”

  “Really? Why?”

  She sniffed. “Ever since I reformed you, I’ve noticed you’ve become irritable. I figured you were… frustrated. So I let you kiss me to alleviate your suffering.”

  He glanced at her. “It would take a lot more than a kiss to alleviate what’s bothering me.”

  Hawk knew he should be horsewhipped for kissing her again.

  He followed his aunt and Julianne through the receiving line at Lord and Lady Garnett’s ball. His gaze strayed to Julianne. The netting over her blue ball gown sparkled in the candlelight. When she slid an impish look at him, he winked at her. Best to keep what had happened this afternoon light.

  Once they entered the crowded ballroom, Hester hailed her friend Mr. Peckham and left them without so much as a by-your-leave.

  Hawk shook his head. “Those two are thick as thieves.”

  “Hmmm,” Julianne said.

  Hawk offered his arm, and as he led her through the room, he noticed the avid stares directed at them. The devil. He knew he ought to make himself scarce to avoid speculation, but after what had happened earlier today, he couldn’t make himself do it.

  He’d felt a bit sorry for Beaufort late this afternoon after informing him that Julianne was not ready for marriage. Beaufort had taken the news hard at first, but Hawk had reminded him that Julianne had said she only wanted friendship from all of the cubs. Beaufort had admitted he’d hoped she wasn’t serious.

  Truthfully, he’d been relieved when Julianne had protested Beaufort’s intention to propose. Hawk hadn’t wanted her to know he’d worried she would accept Beaufort, so he’d resorted to teasing her. Lord, he’d never forget the way she’d scampered up the curricle. Or their slow, passionate kiss. The memory stirred his blood, but he must take care not to let his desire distract him—too much.

  He should be sorry for kissing her, but he wasn’t. If he’d thought he was setting expectations for a different sort of relationship, he would never have dared kiss her. But he knew she didn’t want to marry yet. Well, he was fairly certain. After all, she’d told the cubs she only wanted friendship. He and Julianne were like two peas in a pod. Neither of them wanted to leap into the parson’s mousetrap.

  The only difference was that eventually she would wed, and he never would.

  He shoved the thought out of his head. Tonight he meant to enjoy Julianne’s company. He’d sworn to win her back as his partner in mischief, and today he’d succeeded. A voice deep inside whispered, To what end? To the end of the season, he silently answered. Long ago, he’d learned to live in the here and now. It had been the only way to keep from going quietly mad over circumstances he’d ceded control over to another man.

  He’d had no choice.

  Julianne waved. “There are Amy and Georgette. I’ll leave you to your cards.”

  “You are throwing me over for your friends,” he said in a theatrical voice. “I’m heartbroken.”

  “I’m sure you’ll recover as soon as you meet up with your fellow rakes,” she said.

  “Your friends may need my help.
Osgood is bearing toward them as we speak. Perhaps we’d better save them before he starts spouting poetry.”

  She gave him a warning look. “Don’t poke fun at him. I believe he has developed tender feelings for Amy.”

  “Let us play matchmakers, shall we? They’re both so timid that nothing is likely to come of it if we don’t nudge them.”

  “You’ll make a muddle of it.”

  He clapped his hand to his heart. “You have so little faith in me, but I assure you Osgood trusts my judgment about women.”

  “Liar. You only want to follow me about.”

  “No, it’s true, but you mustn’t let on. He asked for my advice.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you didn’t put indecent ideas in his head.”

  He thought better of telling her Osgood needed no help with indecent ideas. “Come along. I’ll encourage Osgood to ask Miss Hardwick to dance while you point out his positive qualities to her.”

  “Very well, but if you embarrass them, I’ll make you sorry,” she muttered.

  “You can feel sorry for me anytime you like,” he said.

  “What?”

  “How quickly you forget my suffering and frustration.”

  A rosy blush stained her cheeks.

  He winked. “I’ll be quite pitiful if you’ll reward me for it.”

  She grinned. “Reward you? How?”

  He wished to get her naked, but he kept that between his teeth. “Another memory lapse? Was my earlier kiss so forgettable?”

  “Hush, someone might hear you.”

  When they reached Julianne’s friends, Georgette regarded him with a smirk. He thought her reaction odd. She’d never made her dislike of him a secret, but now she acted as if she had something on him. Then that silly chit Sally Shepherd arrived. “Oh, goodness, everyone is talking about that pamphlet,” she said.

  “You mean The Secrets of Seduction?” Osgood said.

  “Yes,” Sally said.

  “I heard about it in parliament,” Hawk said. “Supposedly a lady wrote it.”

  Sally giggled. “All the ladies gathered at Lady Dunworthy’s town house signed a petition to have it banned.”

  Hawk frowned at Julianne. “You said nothing about it.”

 

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