The Rogue’s Seduction

by Lauren Smith

  Vaughn’s impression of Darby was that he was a rather studious man, a man invested in the sciences. Just like his daughter, it would seem. He suspected she’d written that essay she’d been reviewing and she had tried to hide the fact from him. But her expression had given her away. Her face had been so open, her eyes so earnest in that moment as she seemed to yearn for his approval.

  No doubt she was afraid he would be just like any other man and discount her ideas. But her arguments were sound and her conclusions logical. It was a paper worthy of publication, regardless of who had written it. He would find a way to convince her of that once they were married.

  “Ah, Lord Darlington. I’ve been expecting you.” Darby chuckled as he set the magnifying glass down.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure if…your daughter had informed you.” Vaughn was in uncharted territory here. He’d never expected to be in this situation, yet here he was.

  “Your engagement? She mentioned it. I was a little surprised, of course. Perdy tells me almost everything, and she’s never mentioned you before, except this past September.” Darby studied him with a gentle curiosity. It surprised Vaughn. Most fathers with unmarried daughters would have been chasing a man like him off their estates unless they were desperate. Yet Darby was far more like his daughter than Vaughn might have guessed. He was of a rational mind, just like her.

  “I admit we should have come to you at once, but I did not want to trap her into any commitment until she was sure she wished to marry me.”

  Darby chuckled. “Noble words for one of London’s more notorious rogues, or so I hear. You aren’t part of that League of Rogues are you?”

  Vaughn shook his head. “No, certainly not.” The League was not simply some club one could join, though gossip spoke of them as if it was. Investing with Ashton Lennox, one of the League members, was as close as he would get to being part of their number.

  “Good, good. So you’re here to ask for my permission to marry Perdita?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, as you know, my daughter has her own heart and mind. My opinion on the matter holds little weight. She will do exactly as she pleases.”

  “That may be true,” Vaughn replied, “but I also believe she values your opinion. I feel duty bound to pass any test you might put me through so that she will feel you accept the match as well.”

  Darby tilted his head. “Are you aware that another gentleman here at the house has expressed an interest in Perdita’s hand?”

  “Samuel Milburn? Yes, I’m aware, although he has no idea of our engagement. We were hoping to have you announce our happy news tonight at dinner. We believe it might direct the other fellow to seek another bride.” Vaughn knew full well that it would be hard to prevent Milburn from pursuing his blackmail on Perdita, but he secretly hoped that once Milburn saw that Vaughn was in fact going to marry her—assuming he could convince her it was a sound idea—that Milburn would give up.

  “I see.”

  Vaughn waited, but Darby didn’t speak further.

  “You will make the announcement?” he prompted.

  Rather than answer Vaughn, the older man stroked his chin, studying Vaughn as though he were a shell beneath his magnifying glass.

  “Why do you want to marry my daughter? I’m aware of your financial troubles, but there are many heiresses worth far more that I’m sure you could easily win over. What makes my Perdita of such interest to you?”

  That was the test he had been expecting. He had to answer carefully but also honestly. Darby had the look about him of a man who could read a person well. Vaughn reached for a conch shell and examined it.

  “What makes this conch shell worth studying more than the rest tucked away on your shelves? The color of this shell and the exquisite pattern of its grooves make it unique among the rest. Perdita isn’t like other ladies I’ve met. She’s genuine. She challenges me without fear, and I find that engaging. She’s a damned clever creature too. Did you know she’s pursuing publication of her scholarly articles on astronomy? She told me she was reading them over for some gentleman, but the handwriting is too clear and neat to belong to a man. I recognized it at once as hers. Her conclusions are brilliant, and I plan to do everything in my power to assist in her pursuits.” He smiled at the thought. “Watching her show up those old fellows at the astronomy society would be quite satisfying.” Vaughn paused when he realized he’d been gushing over Perdita like a young boy.

  Mr. Darby watched him with open amusement. “Glad to see your affections are well placed. But I won’t offer my blessings until you prove your love. She can marry you or not as she chooses, but know that I have my eye on you, Darlington. Break her heart and I’ll bury you in my woods where no one will ever find you.”

  The threat, though pleasantly delivered, had been unexpected. Darby cared deeply about his daughter. It would have made the older man proud to know his daughter protected him just as fiercely, but as Perdita had made no mention of the blackmail to her father, Vaughn would follow her lead and maintain his silence on the matter.

  “Understood.”

  “Good. Now, why don’t you help the other young lads collect the Yule log. We must light it tonight.”

  “Of course.” Vaughn left Darby in the study and asked a passing footman to have his cloak, hat, and gloves brought to him. When he reached the front door, he found a crowd of young men already there, all dressed warmly. They were chatting away and laughing as they readied themselves for the Yule log–gathering party.

  “Are you joining them?”

  Perdita suddenly appeared at his side. Lord, the woman could be stealthy. Once they were married, he would have to have little bells sewn onto her gown so he could hear her coming.

  “I was instructed by your father to assist the others.” He took his cloak from the footman who had rushed to him with his outerwear.

  “You listened to my father? Goodness, Lord Darlington, whatever reasonable, gentlemanly thing shall you do next? I swear you’ll lose your wicked reputation at this rate,” she teased him, and he adored the sparkle in her eyes as she did.

  “As a gentleman”—he emphasized the word—“I would like to invite you to join us.”

  Her winged brows rose. “Truly? Most men would not think to invite a woman to partake in such a sacred and masculine ritual.”

  Vaughn glanced at the collection of eager young lads surrounding them and sighed dramatically.

  “Miss Darby, please do me the honor of saving me from this hoard of bucks, who will surely drive me to the nearest bottle with their inane antics if I do not have a grounded, sensible creature to accompany me.”

  She giggled. “In that case, I accept. Let me fetch my cloak and gloves.”

  He couldn’t deny the excitement that fluttered in him at the thought of spending more time with her. When he’d come upon her in the library earlier, she’d stopped him dead. Before, he’d always focused on women most when they were naked in his bed, but there was something different about Perdita. She was fiery, challenging, yet alluring and sweet. He hadn’t known a woman could be so complex in personality. He found he rather liked that depth to her.

  When he’d spied her in the library window seat, he had known he would find a way to rouse her passions, but he hadn’t expected to be so affected by her reactions to him. Holding her in the library, thinking of her secretly penning astronomy essays and defying the conventions of society, then picturing the way she blushed at his exploring hands before trusting him to bring her to climax…something inside him clicked into place.

  This plan of a false engagement had begun as a way to climb out of financial ruin, but everything had changed, and that no longer mattered. What mattered now was winning her heart and claiming her as his wife. He knew he’d settle for no other woman. She was a bottomless pool of mysteries, an enchantress who drew him out with her innocent lips and eyes full of secrets. He was quite convinced he could spend years getting to know who Perdita really was.

  Vaugh
n was still picturing how she tasted when he noticed Samuel Milburn staring at him from across the hall. The man was scowling.

  Milburn nodded. “Darlington.”

  Vaughn ignored the sour look he was given and offered a nod back. Then Milburn came over, dodging the other young men as they bounded about the hall like pups.

  “Chasing the skirts of Miss Darby, are we?” he asked.

  “Chasing? No. Caught.” He smiled slowly, watching his meaning sink in for the other man.

  “Caught? By that you mean…”

  “We are engaged. The announcement is to be made tonight at dinner.” Vaughn pulled on his gloves, allowing his usual uncaring manner to be displayed. He didn’t want Milburn to see any desperation or urgency. The man must not sense the true purpose of their engagement.

  Milburn’s cheeks reddened, and his eyes narrowed. “When did you court her? She’s been in the country for the last few months, and I know you’ve been visiting the gaming dens in London.”

  Milburn was too bloody astute for his own good. Vaughn finished with his gloves and arched a brow. “You can’t expect a gentleman to reveal his secrets.” Let the bastard make what he could of that.

  “I had intentions toward her myself. I’d already spoken to Darby.” Milburn’s voice turned into a low, warning growl. That would have bothered some gentlemen, especially those who knew of Milburn’s cruel and abusive nature. But Vaughn wasn’t one of them.

  “Sorry to tell you that I got there first, old boy. And you know I have no intention of sharing what’s mine with any man.” Vaughn slapped the other man on the shoulder. He felt the tension rise between them. They weren’t foolish young lads barely out of the schoolroom. They were men, ready to face each other down like stags over territory. Vaughn was more than ready to battle the bastard for Perdita’s sake. He’d love a chance to bloody his knuckles on Milburn’s face.

  Milburn seemed ready to argue further, but Perdita appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a red cloak with white ermine fur lining the edges. Her dark hair had escaped the loosely pulled up Grecian style, and bright-red ribbons had been threaded into her hair to hold back her locks. She was a perfectly delectable little creature.

  And she’s all mine.

  Vaughn grinned eagerly as she came down the stairs, and he held out his hands to her. She placed her gloved hands in his, allowing him a moment to study her. She had a cloak on, but her gown seemed a bit thin for walking about in the woods.

  “Will you be warm enough, darling?” he asked, genuinely concerned. One did not charge about the snowy woods in a fine tea gown.

  “Yes. This isn’t my best gown, but I didn’t want to miss out on the experience simply because I had to change my dress.” When her nose wrinkled, it made her adorably sweet, and Vaughn couldn’t resist smiling. Damn, since when had such sweetness ever been so fetching to him? His bed partners before had been moody, sensual, and as friendly as cats in heat, but Perdita was nothing like them, and he found that refreshing. She turned as though just now realizing Milburn was standing there next to them.

  “Oh, my apologies, Mr. Milburn. Did I interrupt your conversation?” Her wide eyes were filled with innocence, but Vaughn knew she had interrupted them on purpose and was glad for it.

  Vaughn answered for him. “No, you did not. We were simply catching up, weren’t we, Milburn?” He challenged his rival with one lazy and somewhat contemptuous look.

  Milburn’s dark eyes burned with a hateful fire, but he couldn’t lose his temper in front of the other guests. He stormed off, shoving a few lads out of his way viciously enough to have them grumbling and brushing their coats in displeasure.

  “No holiday spirit there,” said one.

  Vaughn turned to his fiancée. “My, that was exciting. A bit like poking an angry bear.” He chuckled and offered Perdita his arm.

  It seemed the others had decided they were ready to begin, and the crowd of men suddenly rushed out the front door in a wall of fluttering cloaks and clattering boots. They bounded into the snow like hearty young foxhounds.

  Perdita giggled as the men began their wild romp toward the forest that bordered the property. “Heavens, look at them go. You’d think they’d been kept indoors for a week.”

  “My lady.” Vaughn lifted her by the waist and set her down in the snow. Some of the men had already worn down a steadier path ahead of them. It would be much easier on her skirts to walk on packed snow.

  Perdita turned her head to hide a blush, then lifted her gown with one hand and began to walk. Vaughn took her other arm, and they moved together into the woods. Due to the heavy snowfall, only a few birds were chattering on trees, and Vaughn couldn’t resist the temptation to tease Perdita.

  “Look there.” He pointed with his free hand toward a blue-and-yellow bird with black markings around its throat and eyes. It clung agilely to a tiny bare branch of a stout little tree.

  “Oh, he’s lovely.” Perdita paused to watch the bird. The branch was thin enough that the bird’s weight made it dip and bounce as the creature adjusted its position and fluttered its wings.

  “That is a blue tit,” he said. “Tits always turn blue in the winter when it’s cold. He has a cousin called a great tit, similar markings, but a much bigger chap.” He waited, holding his breath to see if she realized the joke he was trying to make, that the tits which turned blue weren’t birds…

  “I believe you’re trying to tease me.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You know as well as I do that tit has other meanings.”

  “As far as I know it simply refers to a diminutive creature, such as a titmouse or a tomtit. I cannot be responsible for any meanings your imagination has come up with.”

  “Well, nevertheless, you must stop talking about blue tits,” she whispered in a half-amused, half-scandalized tone.

  “I promise to return yours to a lovely shade of pink once we get back inside.”

  “Vaughn!” she admonished.

  “What? You began such talk, but that doesn’t mean I cannot contribute. Yes, I believe a few kisses, a bit of sucking will bring the pink back nicely.” He leaned down to murmur the last part, which only made her gasp.

  “Stop this,” Perdita said, her face already beginning to flush.

  “I suppose you don’t want to hear me describe chaffinches? They have the most attractive pink breasts.”

  She looked as if she might punch him, but then she thought better of it. She huffed and walked a few steps ahead before she bent down. Before he realized what she was up to, he caught a face full of snow.

  He brushed off the powdery residue from his face, sputtering.

  “You will pay for that, my darling.” He crouched down and started to collect his own handful of snow in his gloves. When he rose, ready to aim, there was no sign of her.

  But he saw a clear track of dainty boot prints in the snow, leading deeper into the woods. With a wolfish grin, he began to stalk his lady, looking for signs of a red cloak within the snowy forest. When he caught his red-hooded lady, she would pay for her mischievous behavior, and they would both enjoy every minute of it.

  Chapter 6

  Perdita wrapped the edges of her cloak tightly about her body to keep it from showing around the base of the large tree she hid behind. Throwing a snowball at Vaughn had been far too great a temptation to resist. She liked to see him ruffled and caught off guard. He seemed more real and a little less like the rogue from a schoolgirl’s forbidden daydreams. Not that she minded that side of him, but she longed to see the real Vaughn, not the façade he showed to the rest of the world.

  Once she’d thrown that snowball, she knew he would seek revenge, no doubt in a wicked way that would leave her breathless and shaky. So she’d turned tail and fled to make the chase much more rewarding for them both.

  She should have chosen her white cloak rather than the red, but she had so loved the contrast of red against the snow.

  * * *

  And no
w I shall pay for it.

  Far ahead of her, she could see the young men in their quest for the perfect Yule log. They needed something large that would burn for twelve days. It wasn’t really possible to find a log that large, but men loved to challenge each other over silly things like that.

  Perdita turned her focus back to the forest. She closed her eyes, taking in the sounds around her. The chatter of the blue tits and the occasional snap and creak of frozen branches were the only noises she could detect. She opened her eyes, wondering where Vaughn had gone, or if he had moved at all. As she peered around the tree, she almost expected to see him close by, ready to pounce. Nothing. The forest was empty as far back as the path that led to the house.

  Where the devil had he gone? She turned back to the woods and screamed. Vaughn had somehow gotten around her! Her heart leapt into her throat at the sudden unexpected sight. He pushed her flat against the tree and clamped one gloved hand over her mouth.

  “You left your delectable behind unguarded, sweeting.” The tsk he gave was gentle and wicked, just as his smile was in that moment. He pressed his body against hers, his hips against her stomach. She’d never felt so small and vulnerable as she did at that moment. It should have scared her. Any young lady in a similar position would have been terrified, but Vaughn holding her captive like a dark winter forest god set fire to her blood.

  I am as wicked as he is. The realization was buried beneath a rush of sensations as Vaughn removed his hand from her mouth and kissed her. It was a ruthless sort of kiss, one that marked her, conquered her, and reminded her that she belonged to him—yet not in the way a man like Milburn would. Vaughn didn’t own her, and he certainly didn’t want to break her. But in this forest, surrounded by the snow and the silence, he owned her very soul for briefest heartbeat of a stolen kiss.

  “You are clever,” he whispered in her ear. “But not quick enough, I’m afraid. Shall I punish you here?” He swept one hand beneath her cloak to cup her bottom. Her body burned at the touch, even as she wondered what sort of punishment he might inflict.