The Rules of Seduction

by Madeline Hunter

  Hayden knew what she had hoped. His brother Christian had known too.

  Aunt Hen had neglected the details about moving to London until finding a suitable place to let became difficult. Christian had surmised their aunt had an ulterior motive to her incompetence. He was sure she had counted on being left without a residence, at which time she would petition to launch her daughter out of Easterbrook’s home.

  Three weeks ago Christian had summarily decreed that would not, under any circumstance, happen. He would accommodate Caroline’s debut ball but would not live with their flighty and intrusive aunt under his roof.

  The Longworth house therefore solved a pressing problem. It had also provided a way for Timothy Longworth to reimburse Henrietta for the stolen securities without her awareness. Aunt Hen assumed Hayden had sold off her funds to purchase the house.

  As he stepped out of the carriage, Hayden considered the rest of the plan. With luck, Caroline would be matched up this first go-round, and Henrietta would return to her home in Surrey. The house would be sold and the stolen funds replaced with new ones. If Providence really smiled on him, after Caroline was married, his aunt would look for a husband for herself, and Hayden could soon pass her reins to someone else.

  Hayden handed his aunt and cousin down. By the time they entered, all the servants were lined in the reception hall to greet their new mistress.

  Henrietta examined her household. Hayden had retained Falkner, but the rest of the staff was new.

  He stepped forward when his aunt arrived at Miss Welbourne’s. He introduced the two women, as he had not the butler or housekeeper. It was in his interest for them to get on well. With luck Miss Welbourne would reduce Henrietta’s demands on him.

  Aunt Hen gave her new companion a good inspection. Miss Welbourne suffered it with grace.

  “This is my daughter, Caroline,” Hen said, drawing her daughter forward. “Our delay in coming to town means her last finishing requires attention. I trust you are fit for it.”

  “I am, Lady Wallingford.”

  “I hear that you are recently come to such duties. That you are cousin to the family that last lived here.”

  Hayden was not aware that Hen had heard that. She had been in town only two days.

  Miss Welbourne’s eyes deepened in color, but she displayed no other reaction. “Yes, madam.”

  “We will have some conversation about that. I have no reason to question my nephew’s confidence in you, however.”

  “Thank you, madam.”

  Hen moved on, to the maids and footmen and cook. Hayden watched the ritual from the side of the room. Mostly he watched Miss Welbourne.

  Her gaze had not wavered since they entered the house. He realized it was locked on a spot on the wall behind him. Even when Hen spoke with her, those violet eyes had not moved. She was enduring this, but she was not seeing it.

  He admired her composure and the slight hauteur she projected. She might stand with servants, but only a fool would miss the difference. No doubt his aunt had sensed it at once. Hence that little challenge.

  Miss Welbourne’s gaze subtly moved to him. Anger and pride flexed over her face. Do not dare pity me, that quick glance said. You of all men have no right.

  Her resentment of him looked ready to defeat her poise. He walked over and gestured her forward, away from her spot of subservience.

  “You appear to have everything in hand here. It is admirable.” He meant herself, not the household. She seemed to understand. Her expression returned to one of passivity. Her gaze found its spot again, past him on the far wall.

  “Falkner saw that the others were prepared,” she said quietly.

  “Do you think you can manage her?” He looked at his young cousin.

  Miss Welbourne glanced down the line too, only her gaze flitted to Henrietta, not Caroline. More specifically, it flitted to Henrietta’s hat.

  “I am thinking I was worth both wages to you,” she said.

  “I have been thinking that you might prove to be worth far more to me, Miss Welbourne.” It sounded a little risqué once he said it. She did not react as if she noticed. That was probably because the potential entendre lived in his head alone, a reflection of calculations that did him no credit.

  “I am thinking you are correct. However, I left our last meeting satisfied and will not expect more now.”

  “I am relieved. There will only be one carriage, you see, and my aunt will want to use it on occasion. If you had secured several free days instead of only one, that would have seriously inconvenienced her.”

  She could not resist smiling at the memory of having bested him. Her rose mouth softened and revealed its sensual, welcoming potential. Her lips parted just enough to send inappropriate thoughts romping through his head.

  Her gaze finally turned up to him, to share their little joke. He gazed deeply, commanding her reluctant attention.

  He let the moment stretch too long. Shutters rapidly closed, as if she saw danger in his eyes. She stiffened perceptibly.

  Suddenly bodies milled around them as the servants were dismissed. Henrietta’s hat intruded between him and Miss Welbourne. “Hayden, I have informed the cook that you will dine with us tomorrow night. Easterbrook and Elliot too.”

  “Elliot is in Cambridge, and Christian is engaged tomorrow.” He began to add his own regrets, but a view of violets and roses stopped the words. Miss Welbourne was speaking with Caroline, calmly taking her charge in hand.

  “I will be glad to accept, however, if my presence alone will not be too boring.”

  “Never boring. I have not been in London in years and will be at a loss without your help easing me back into polite society. I have quite forgotten what Caroline should see and do. We depend on you to draw up lists of sites for us all to visit and diversions for us to enjoy.”

  He suspected she included him in “us all.” Before tomorrow’s dinner was over, Hen would have his diary filled with ways he would “help.”

  It was all Miss Welbourne’s fault. She had distracted him and he had dropped his guard. If she left him at Hen’s mercy with one small smile, it was just as well she hated him and would not smile often.

  He took his leave and received Miss Welbourne’s cool farewell amid Henrietta’s effusive ones. As he left the house, Hen was following the housekeeper up to see the other chambers, and Caroline was skipping ahead to find the music room.

  Which meant that Miss Welbourne was the only one to actually watch him go.

  Patience, Alexia said to herself. Remember your place. Swallow the words that would express what you think.

  She sat at the dining-room table with Lady Wallingford, Caroline, and Lord Hayden. Keeping silent during these dinners proved fairly easy, because Lady Wallingford kept talking to her nephew. At the last two meals he attended, she had cajoled him to tell her all the current town gossip, complete with descriptions of important characters. Tonight she was cornering him into taking her to the British Museum.

  Lord Hayden frequently looked Alexia’s way, as if he expected her to interrupt and save him from his aunt’s designs. Alexia had no inclination to do so. She was a servant, after all. It wasn’t her place, was it? He was being too obvious too. It appeared he ignored his aunt when he turned his attention away like that.

  He handled his aunt with an affectionate firmness that implied he thought her too mentally scattered to be blamed for her excesses. He apparently did not fully appreciate her character. In one short week, Alexia had discovered that Lady Wallingford’s helpless, frivolous manner masked a very feminine type of mental brilliance.

  “It would be more educational for Caroline if you brought us, Hayden,” Lady Wallingford said. “I am ignorant of ancient history and could never explain the significance of the artifacts.” She gave him a smile designed to melt iron. “And Caroline really does not know you and your brothers very well. Nor you her, now that she is no longer a child.”

  Caroline blushed to her ears. Her mother’s sly gla
nce shot her a cue. Caroline forced a hopeful smile. “It would be so wonderful to visit the museum with you, Hayden. If you can spare us the time, that is.”

  Within several minutes Lady Wallingford had her nephew hooked on her fishing line. Next week he would accompany them all to the museum.

  Alexia rather enjoyed watching her new mistress manage this stern, proud man. Nor did he appear to suspect his aunt’s grandest design, which was to hook him thoroughly and permanently.

  “Now, we must decide on the modiste for Caroline’s presentation gown,” Lady Wallingford said. “I have heard that there is a Madame Tissot who is a wonder, and also that Mrs. Waterman would do. Can you can advise on this, Hayden?”

  “Not at all. Miss Welbourne could help you, I expect.”

  All eyes turned to her, defeating her intentions to remain a mere shadow at the corner of the table.

  “If I had to make the choice, it would definitely be Madame Tissot,” she said. Mrs. Waterman had been the modiste chosen to make Irene Longworth’s wardrobe this season. Caroline now lived in Irene’s house and even slept in Irene’s bed. By Lucifer, she would not have Irene’s new gowns too if Alexia could help it.

  The sharpness of her reaction warned her that she had not accommodated her situation yet. The resentments stabbed on occasions like this. Having to share a table with Lord Hayden left part of her soul seething too. Accepting his arrogant attention, fighting off his dominating aura, seemed a cruel expectation. She hoped he would show more fortitude and find a way to decline his aunt’s dinner invitations in the future.

  “Before you commission any gowns, you and I must have a little talk, Aunt Hen.”

  “Of course.” Lady Wallingford’s expression became one of dutiful obedience. “Caroline herself has insisted on strict limitations on the cost. She is much more sensible than I am in that area, aren’t you, dear? The man who marries her will find her much easier on the purse than most other girls.”

  Caroline blushed again. Her cousin did not see the bait bobbing above him. He vaguely smiled his approval.

  The meal finished and Lord Hayden’s diary suitably full, they all went up to the drawing room. At the doorway, however, Lady Wallingford announced a new plan.

  “Hayden, will you excuse Caroline and me for a short while? She has a surprise for you, and I need to help her. Miss Welbourne will entertain you while we prepare the diversion.”

  And so Alexia found herself sitting across from Lord Hayden in the drawing room, much as they had during their first conversation.

  “Can you give me a hint about this diversion?” he asked. He stretched out his legs too informally. She was not really a member of the family and could do without poses of familiarity.

  “It is a mystery to me.”

  “You are her governess.”

  “I think this was planned prior to their arrival here. There have been no rehearsals this last week, to my knowledge.”

  He regarded her in that direct, disconcerting way he had adopted. “Then there must not have been any at all. I doubt you miss much, Miss Welbourne. For example, you have probably realized that dear Aunt Hen has plans for Caroline and me that go beyond visits to museums.”

  “Indeed? How fortunate for you.” His awareness of Henrietta’s intentions ruined her fantasy. She had counted on watching him swim along in his arrogant way only to suddenly land on the beach at Henrietta’s feet, wiggling helplessly.

  “It would be helpful if you would discourage these plans.”

  “I cannot imagine how I can. Besides, I think it would be a splendid match.”

  “You intend to be Aunt Hen’s ally against me, don’t you?”

  “We women are all sisters in this, sir. And we do so enjoy watching the mighty fall.”

  He laughed. “You speak as if you do not think I stand a chance.”

  “I expect you to be gutted, scaled, and in the pan by June.”

  Humor brightened his eyes. Amusement transformed him. He no longer appeared stern. Strong, yes, but not stern. “A fish? You liken me to a fish? Leave me some dignity, Miss Welbourne. A fox run to ground, a bull defeated by a matador—there are numerous analogies available, but a fish is too cruel.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “I found the images very compelling.”

  Although still smiling, still…appealing, his demeanor turned more serious. “If you refuse to discourage my aunt, so be it. However, do what you can to keep the girl from accepting her mother’s assumptions. I would not like to see her hurt or discouraging suitors on account of this scheme. There is no way I will marry my cousin.”

  “Why not?”

  His smile firmed enough to imply she had crossed a line. There was nothing new in that, and she let the question stand.

  “She is a child,” he said.

  “They are all children. If a woman at twenty-two is on the shelf, by necessity the churches are full of child brides.”

  “I have no interest in marrying in the near future, least of all a child. These girls have very frivolous, romantic notions that obligate a man to feign weakness and sentimentality. Also, she is my cousin. I know such matches are common enough, but it is an unhealthy practice and I do not approve of it.”

  Unhealthy? “Benjamin Longworth was my cousin. I would not want to think that my love for him is unhealthy.”

  His face went blank. “Of course. My apologies, Miss Welbourne. I am at times too forceful in expressing opinions.”

  A tight little silence ensued.

  “Of course, we did not know each other as cousins when we were younger,” she said. “He had never known me as a young girl, and—”

  “Yes, exactly. You understand why a match with Caroline is…impossible.” He ended the topic by rising and strolling rather aimlessly around the chamber.

  “When did you meet Benjamin?” His query came casually, while he examined a domestic scene painted by Chardin. It had arrived along with several others soon after the Longworths left, a loan from Easterbrook’s collection to fill the empty walls.

  “When I joined them here in London. They lived in Cheapside then. I had written about my situation after father’s death, and Ben wrote back and said I must come. He was very kind.” Kind and joyful. The whole world became brighter when Ben was near. He inspired a lightness of the spirit, unlike the man with her now, who made her angry and always on her guard. “You said that you knew him when you were boys. Was the youth much like the man?”

  “Maturity did not change his basic character. He was as impulsive and as carefree when he was a lad. He caused a lot of mischief back then.”

  “He was a naughty child, you mean.”

  “In the best way. Although…the boy, like the man, often did not calculate the consequences of his actions.”

  “That is because Ben lived for the moment. He was not calculating at all. He counted on everything always working out in the end.”

  She loved that about him. She loved the way she felt free and almost reckless in Ben’s presence. Life had forced her to become so boring and sensible before his smiles for her warmed during their last year together.

  He had returned her youth to her for a short while, and she still hid that reborn, wistful girl in the same place where she guarded Benjamin’s memory.

  Rothwell had turned and was looking at her. He appeared hard again, and his dark blue eyes reflected deep calculation. Ben had never looked at people like that.

  She met his gaze. That was a mistake. The connection put her at a disadvantage, just as it had in the reception hall last week when he brought his aunt here. He looked too deeply and saw too much. She felt he was reading her heart.

  She reacted as she had too often to this man. It resembled the way Ben had made her feel, only it possessed darker tones. Danger tinged his attention, and fear shivered within the stimulation he provoked.

  She suffered it. She told herself she was standing her ground. The truth whispered in her heart, however. She was powerless to look away, t
o reject the excitement.

  “I expect life was never dull while you lived in this house,” he said.

  She felt herself flushing. It was as though he had seen those stolen kisses in her memory and now referred to them.

  He appeared about to speak again but was interrupted. A footman arrived to say that their attendance was requested in the library.

  “It appears the diversion is ready,” Lord Hayden said.

  He escorted her to the other room. His proximity reminded her of their tour of this house. That did not help her thwart the odd power he cast.

  “I enjoy speaking with you about Benjamin,” she said as they entered the library. “I hope that someday you will favor me with some stories about his time in Greece or from his youth.”

  “Certainly, Miss Welbourne.”

  A little stage setting waited for them in the library. Two low columns flanked a blue cloth strewn on the floor. A white cloth hung behind it, tied to the bookcases. The backdrop showed a painted hill and columned temple.

  Lady Wallingford stood to the side. She bade them sit on two chairs that had been arranged in front of the blue cloth.

  She clapped for attention. Another clap and the diversion began.

  Caroline emerged from behind the backdrop. She wore a costume with an ancient Greek flavor. It left her arms bare and her ankles visible and showed too much skin at her neck and chest. Mama had done up her hair in a very mature style and even dabbed a bit of paint here and there on her young face.

  Caroline appeared very pretty, very grown up, and close to scandalous.

  Alexia slid Lord Hayden a sidelong look, to see his reaction. She caught him sliding one to her at the same time.

  “And here I thought you had them well in hand, Miss Welbourne,” he whispered. “It appears my aunt does not intend to wait until June before frying me.”

  Lady Wallingford’s pretty bait took her position between the two columns and began to recite a passage from the Iliad.