How to Seduce a Scoundrel

by Vicky Dreiling

She shrugged. “I didn’t think you would be interested.”

  “Julianne nearly swooned,” Georgette said.

  Hawk noted Georgette’s mischievous expression and regarded Julianne. “You, a wilting flower?”

  “I was overcome by the subject matter,” she said.

  He laughed.

  Osgood sighed. “I tried to purchase a copy today, but the bookseller had sold out. He promised a fourth printing.”

  Caruthers snorted. “Were you hoping to learn some secrets?”

  Benton and Portfrey guffawed.

  Georgette smiled slyly. “Mr. Osgood is a poet. Perhaps he wrote the pamphlet.”

  Amy Hardwick scowled at Georgette. “Don’t tease him.”

  Hawk wondered if Amy was indeed smitten with the bad poet. He’d thought the girl had too much sense for Osgood, but Julianne seemed convinced the pair would suit.

  At the moment, however, Osgood was making calf eyes at Julianne. She seemed oblivious to his moonstruck expression.

  Hawk strolled over to Osgood and took him aside for the man-to-man talk.

  The cub puffed out his chest. “I’m planning to ask Lady Julianne to dance—as soon as I can draw her away from Miss Hardwick.”

  Well, hell. He’d better find a means of dissuading Osgood. “Lady Julianne is in high dudgeon tonight,” he said in low, confidential tones. “Beaufort wanted to offer for her, but she took a fit of the vapors as soon as I put the matter before her. Claimed she’d told all of you she wanted only friendship. If you ask her now, she’s likely to put a flea in your ear.”

  Osgood frowned. “Damn Beaufort. I should have known he’d rush to claim her.”

  “Don’t let her hear you say anything about claims on her person. She’s liable to rip at you.”

  Osgood’s face fell. “How am I to overcome her objections?”

  “Dance with her friend Miss Hardwick. Julianne dotes on her. You’ll impress her if you express interest in her friend.”

  Osgood drew closer. “But Miss Hardwick is taller than me.”

  “No, you’re mistaken,” he lied. “You’ve grown in the last fortnight.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” he said, looking down at his trousers as if he expected to find them above his ankles, despite the foot straps.

  Hawk managed to hide his amusement. “Go on and ask her to dance.”

  Osgood drew in his breath and walked over to Miss Hardwick. Hawk noted that Amy was frowning at something Julianne said. The devil, this matchmaking scheme was proving a rather dicey business.

  When Osgood approached Amy, his face turned bright red. He must have succeeded because Amy, who was indeed taller, took his arm. She didn’t look any happier than Osgood about their impending dance.

  Hawk strolled over to Julianne and offered his arm.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I hope you’re not insisting we dance.”

  He chuckled. “I thought you might wish to watch the couple we threw together.”

  Julianne brightened. “Oh, yes, that is an excellent idea. Afterward, we can remark upon how well they acquitted themselves.”

  “Right-ho,” he said, leading her away.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you funning me?”

  “Julianne, men don’t compliment other men on their dancing.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because it sounds… Never mind. Just take my word for it.”

  She appeared to digest that information, and then a sly smile lit her face. “If you compliment him, I’ll reward you.”

  “You’re a cruel woman, but I’ll make a bargain with you. If I say ‘well done,’ will that suffice?”

  She sniffed. “You have to say it within my hearing.”

  “Done,” he said. “Tonight, I get a kiss in my aunt’s drawing room.”

  “I get to choose the time and place,” she said.

  “Tonight,” he said.

  “If your aunt is present, we cannot,” she said. “Unless you’re willing to settle for kissing my hand?”

  “Oh, no, I want full payment—on the lips.”

  “There they are,” she said as they neared the dance floor.

  The dancers at the top of the line performed the steps. Eventually, it was Osgood’s turn. He skipped forward and back, almost stumbling over his enormous feet. When he took Miss Hardwick’s hands and turned, he rotated in the wrong direction, bumping into another couple in the process.

  Hawk winced. “I don’t think I can watch.”

  “Hush,” Julianne said. “He made a mistake, but he’ll recover.”

  When it was his turn to lead Miss Hardwick to the bottom of the line, Osgood managed to step on poor Amy’s toes before parting to the opposite side of the line.

  “Oh, dear God,” Julianne said under her breath. “We cannot compliment their dance.”

  “I still get a reward,” he said.

  “No, you do not.”

  “You made me persuade him to dance with her. I deserve recompense for having to witness my cruelty to Miss Hardwick.”

  “If anyone deserves a reward, it’s poor Amy,” Julianne said. “I’ll have to find her a decent dance partner to make up for it.”

  He looked at her. “All jests aside, you know as well as I do she’ll not want to go anywhere near the dance floor after this disaster.”

  Julianne sighed. “I had high hopes for them. He’s such a sensitive young man. I was sure he and Amy would make the perfect couple.”

  He led her away. “Even if it weren’t for that horrible dance, the two of them are ill-suited. They may be close in age, but she’s far more mature than Osgood.”

  “I just wish… Never mind.”

  “What?” he asked.

  She hung her head. “No one ever asks her to dance.”

  “I’ll ask her,” he said.

  “No.” Julianne swallowed. “She’ll know I put you up to it, and it will humiliate her.”

  “I’m tempted to utter platitudes, but I know it doesn’t make up for the cruelty of others. This much I do know. She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

  “Is she? When I try to put myself in her slippers, I think how I would feel if my friend danced every dance while I danced none. She ought to hate me for it.”

  “But she doesn’t,” he said. “Because she knows you care about her.”

  “I don’t want her to end up alone and scorned,” she whispered.

  He laid his hand over hers and squeezed. “You won’t let that happen.”

  He stood talking to a group of friends from his club. Unable to resist, he glanced at Julianne. When she smiled at him, he gave her a conspiratorial wink. She’d announced to the five cubs that she preferred conversation to dancing tonight. Then she’d drawn Amy into the conversation. There had been only one tense moment when Beaufort had asked Lady Georgette to dance. He’d purposely ignored Julianne, but she’d not let his rude behavior affect her.

  Hawk had been so proud of her.

  He returned his attention to the men surrounding him. Archdale had joined the group and was talking about the pamphlet. Apparently, everyone knew about it. “Hot off the presses,” Archdale said. “You’ll not believe the title.” He slapped his thigh. “The Secrets of Seduction.”

  The other gents clamored to know where to purchase it.

  “The Altar of the Muses in Piccadilly,” Archdale said. “The anonymous author is listed as a lady.”

  “Harriette Wilson is the front-runner in the betting book,” another man said.

  Hawk glanced over at Julianne’s friends. Based on Georgette’s sly comments earlier, he had a feeling the ladies knew the author.

  Archdale held his hand up. “Before you rush out to purchase a copy, you should know the author exhorts genteel ladies to ignore their mother’s advice. The whole pamphlet is filled with advice on how to snare unsuspecting bachelors into the parson’s mousetrap.”

  The laughter died.

  Hawk shook his head and walked away. No doubt the publ

isher would make a fortune off fools because of the scandalous title. The lady was probably one of those reformer types who imagined herself the next Mary Wollstonecraft, that infamous woman who had called for the equality of the sexes.

  He joined the crowd thronging around Julianne. As she returned his smile, his heart beat a little faster. He found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. Something inside him shifted, and an odd feeling took hold of him, one he couldn’t define.

  Feminine laughter broke the spell. Hawk reminded himself to use care when they were in view of the rest of the ton. He couldn’t afford to stir up speculation about his intentions—or lack thereof. What was between him and Julianne was no one else’s business.

  “I’ll take you to the refreshment table for a cup of punch. If you wish,” he remembered to add.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  As he led her away, she grinned at him. “Tell me what happens at a gentleman’s club.”

  He laughed. “Why?”

  “I told you a secret about ladies’ retiring rooms. It is your turn to share,” she said.

  “There’s not much to tell. We eat, drink, and gamble.”

  “What about the famous betting book?”

  “Ah, that’s a closely guarded secret.”

  “Then you must tell me,” she said.

  “Actually it’s boring. Gents bet on stupid things such as which day it will rain. But yesterday, the bets were all about who wrote that infamous pamphlet.”

  “Oh?” she said. “And who is getting the most bets?”

  “A courtesan, but I think it’s likely some radical lady bent on making a bit of coin.”

  “Hmmm,” she said.

  They had reached the refreshment table. He handed her a cup of punch and procured one for himself.

  She sipped the punch. Her eyes watered.

  “The devil,” he said after tasting his. “It’s liberally spiked with brandy.”

  He took the cup away from her and set it aside. “Sorry.”

  The orchestra struck up the opening bars of a country dance. “Are you tired of standing? There are two empty chairs.”

  “I wouldn’t mind resting for a bit,” she said.

  He led her to the chairs and stretched out his legs. “That’s better. Now we can watch everyone and make sport of them.”

  “You are bad,” she said.

  “I think we already established that.”

  “Will you teach me how to drive your curricle?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re liable to turn it over and kill us both.”

  “Not if you show me how,” she said.

  “You only want me to teach you so you can steal my curricle and my cattle.”

  She grinned at him. “I admit it crossed my mind this afternoon.”

  “Imp.” He wagged his brows. “I did enjoy the view as you climbed up the wheel. Nice legs.”

  She lifted her chin. “You should not have looked.”

  “If you show me more, I might let you take the reins.”

  “Not a chance,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Well, at least you promised me another kiss.”

  “Hush, Georgette and Amy are headed this way,” she said.

  He sighed inwardly, knowing he dared not flirt with her in their presence.

  “We are on our way to the retiring room,” Georgette said. “Would you care to accompany us?”

  She glanced at him. “I’ll return soon.”

  He met her gaze, assessing her. Then he said the words he hoped would prevent her from disappointing him. “I trust you.”

  • • •

  “Oh my goodness, I almost swallowed my tongue when I saw the way Hawk looked at you tonight,” Georgette said as they ascended the stairs.

  “Hush, Georgette,” Amy said. “Wait until we reach the retiring room where we’ll not be overheard.”

  Julianne did not want to discuss Hawk with them, but she knew Georgette would persist.

  Upon reaching the retiring room, they sat together on a velvet bench. Julianne looked at the mantel clock and realized the midnight supper would begin in half an hour. Many of the ladies were departing, probably to avoid the worst of the crowd.

  “Georgette, you must be careful what you say about the pamphlet,” Amy said.

  “I was only having a bit of fun.”

  “We all agreed to pretend ignorance,” Julianne said. “Remember, our reputations are at stake.”

  Two giggling girls who had recently made their come-outs walked past. Watching them, Julianne realized that she’d changed in many ways over the past four seasons, but in some ways she was the same person. Was there a core-defining characteristic to each person? Were all people born with certain natures?

  She realized she’d always thought of Hawk’s charming ways as a natural part of his personality. He could win over anyone with a wink or a jest. She couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t teasing others.

  “Dear God, what is this dreamy look on your face?” Georgette said.

  Julianne blinked. “Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought.”

  “You are different tonight,” Amy said.

  Georgette nodded. “Something has happened between you and Hawk. He kept gazing at you. I almost felt as if the two of you were communicating without words.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve known him forever, so his habits are no mystery to me.”

  “We know you too well to accept that explanation,” Amy said gently. “You’ve ranted about Hawk for weeks now, and tonight you’re both suddenly in accord? It makes no sense.”

  “I suppose we just grew weary of fighting all of the time.”

  Georgette and Amy exchanged knowing glances.

  Julianne said nothing. Not long ago, she’d admitted he’d kissed her, but she would say nothing to her friends about the events of this afternoon. What had transpired with Hawk should remain private. Even if she were tempted to reveal it, she didn’t know how to explain his behavior and her confusing feelings. And there was a part of her that didn’t want to examine too closely what had happened between them. She wanted to hold on to the bubbly feelings that had enveloped her this afternoon and again tonight.

  “You know you can tell us anything,” Amy said. “That is what friends are for.”

  Julianne looked at her clasped hands in her lap and decided to tell them just enough to satisfy their curiosity. “We had another row not long ago. He asked if we could be friends instead of enemies.” She lifted her gaze. “I agreed.”

  “Julianne, you’re not falling in love with him again, are you?” Georgette asked.

  “We’ve always been friends. If he’d not become my guardian, we never would have been at odds.” She’d tried to deny her feelings, but she’d never fallen out of love with him.

  Georgette shook her head. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Must you interrogate me?” she said irritably.

  Amy gave her a worried look. “He hurt you terribly. We cannot bear to see you suffer heartbreak again.”

  “My mother said he’s not the marrying kind,” Georgette said. “My brother agreed.”

  Julianne bit her lip. She’d never said anything to Georgette about her despicable brother. Now she wondered if she’d done the right thing by keeping silent. But what good would come of telling Georgette about her brother’s loathsome pursuit? She certainly could not tell her friend about the bad blood between Hawk and Ramsey, for Georgette would surely defend her brother.

  “You are not one to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself,” Amy said. “I’m the one who weighs every word, but tonight you are saying very little. Has Hawk given you any sign he’s formed an attachment?”

  Yes and no. “He is my friend, as he has always been.”

  “If you meant to reassure us, you have not,” Georgette said. “Would a true friend mislead you about his feelings and then call you his sister?”