A Game of Persuasion: Extended Prologue for the Art of Ruining a Rake (The Naughty Girls Book 3) (8 page)

No sooner had she reached the carpeted landing, however, than did she hear Delilah call her name. “Lucy!”

She stopped at the base of the staircase and looked up. “Yes?”

Delilah hurried down the steps until they were eye to eye. “I’ve had a letter from Mr. Conley.”

Lucy smiled. “I thought you must have received a letter from him, when you pled off last eve. Trestin wasn’t pleased.”

Delilah rolled her eyes heavenward. “And if I had come, he’d have found fault at my refusal to dance with the men of his choosing. How many did he parade before you? Three? Six?”

Oddly, none at all. But she didn’t care about Trestin. Lucy pulled a distraught face. “It was ever so much worse than that!
Roman
thought to match me with his friends.”

Delilah gaped at her in horror. “No!”

Lucy shook her head in absolute dejection, a sad laugh escaping her. “I pretended not to care, though it ripped me apart every time he suggested one of his peers might make me a good husband. It would have been far worse to let him see my misery than it was to hide it.”

Delilah’s brow crinkled. “What will you do next?”

Lucy grinned suddenly and enjoyed the responding look of surprise on Delilah’s face. “Why, meet every one of them, of course. Perhaps if I have enough beaus, I can make Roman jealous.”

“SO YOU SEE,” Lucy said in summary, leaning against the plush squab of the wingback chair, “I did what you told me to do, and it worked. I am ready for lesson two.”

She fought the urge to fidget as Celeste regarded her from the other high-backed chair across the low table. The jutting wings framed Celeste’s red hair to great effect and lent her an air of authority. Or perhaps that was her reserved expression causing Lucy to squirm.

If she disapproved of Lucy’s daring behavior the night before, it defied their arrangement. Celeste had promised to teach her, Lucy had vowed to practice, and they had both agreed to contribute the remainder of their time to the fledgling school, at great risk, of course.

Lucy paused, nervously straightening the skirt of her gown. “If you prefer, we may discuss business first. I’ve done as you asked and found a building in Bath to let. Would you like to see the specifics?”

 
Celeste nodded slowly, as if decided this a much safer subject. “Does your brother know?”

It wasn’t a question Lucy had expected, nor wanted to answer. Going behind Trestin’s back wasn’t her first choice, but in her defense, she’d been clear from the start with him. She’d even asked him to surrender what monies he would have used for her dowry to her, so she might use it as seed money for her school.

Certainly, she didn’t intend to spend the pittance on a husband. Or any man, for that matter.

“Trestin is in denial, but no, he doesn’t know I’ve begun the official founding of the school.”

Celeste’s brow didn’t smooth. “When will we be able to take control of the property?”

“Not until June. I feel I should pay a visit earlier, to be sure everything is as described in the advertisement, but I fear Trestin would notice that.”

Celeste’s brow quirked. “Yet he doesn’t notice you calling on me? I’ve wondered.”

Lucy hesitated. There was a reason she’d been able to move about without his realizing it, but how much to tell Celeste? Her brother was in a wretched state, and yet, he was no closer to admitting he was wrong.

“He’s not quite himself,” Lucy said slowly. “I think… I think he’s not as recovered from your quarrel as I made it sound. But I do believe if he knew I was coming here, he’d certainly put an end to it.”

Celeste’s gaze fell to the carpet. She nodded, then twisted her hands together in her lap. “Then I’m glad he does not.”

Chapter 4

LUCY WOULD HAVE preferred walking to Celeste’s house, but she was only willing to break one of Trestin’s rules at a time.
 

She gazed out the window as the horses pulled her carriage through the streets. The city flowed past the narrow rectangular windowpanes, each scene a fascinating peek into lives she would never have the chance to live, for St James was a tableau of men being men: The wealthy ones entering their clubs or leaving their paramour’s doors, the poor ones doing their best to imitate the rich ones. A few shopkeeps hoping anyone with spare coin would grace their establishment, and several gambling hells that had taken that coin for their own.

She was so occupied with woolgathering, she almost didn’t see Roman walking along the street as her equipage sailed past hm. She tumbled forward as she reached up to bang on the carriage roof. “Mr. Diggs! Mr. Diggs!” she called to the coachman.

When the horses stopped, she opened the door far enough to lean out. “Lord Montborne! I say, can my driver take you somewhere?”

Roman’s walking stick waved to and fro as he loped toward her door. “Why, Miss Lancester, it’s a lovely day indeed, when a damsel can rescue a man in distress.”

She laughed and held the door open farther. “I’ll even slay the dragon.”

He ducked his tall frame through the door and fell into the seat across from her, indolent as you please. His legs were so long, his boots encroached on her hem, but she didn’t mind. She’d gladly accept a bit of dirt on her new gown, if it meant being near him.

“What brings you to this part of town?” he asked as the carriage lurched forward. Sunlight streamed through the pane and danced through his tousled curls. Idly, he turned his hand so that his sapphire signet ring caught the rays.

Lucy pasted a look of utter innocence on her face. “What part of town, my lord?”

He grinned and flexed his hand so his signet cast fairies of light over the carriage walls. “The very naughty part, Miss Lancester. Or did you not know you’re in St James?”

She pretended to look through the window as if she hadn’t known, but might somehow recognize this area of Town she ought never to have seen before. Then she sat back again.

The man across from her managed to fill the entire seat even though he was, on the whole, a rather lean specimen. He watched her, amusement written on his face.

She folded her hands in her lap and reminded herself to breathe. This was why she’d agreed to come to London: chance meetings with Roman. She must make the best of this scandalous opportunity to spend time with him unchaperoned. “Where shall I instruct my driver to take us?” she asked, hopeful he’d know better what sorts of amusements were available.

“Take me? Why, to return you to Trestin, of course. I’d never abscond with a lady, especially not a dragon-slaying one.”

She frowned. “You can’t hand me off to my brother like some mislaid bauble you found in the street. I will arrive home when I arrive home, and Trestin must make do.”

Roman watched her with an unfathomable expression. “Do you always speak your mind?”

Her bravado faltered. Then she remembered—she was in control. “I say what is necessary. Being an unmarried woman, that means defending myself when warranted. I suppose you expected me to simper, to be grateful for the benefit of your protection as I make my way through the treacherous streets to the safety of my brother’s influence. But it was I who offered
you
protection. You’re the one who no longer need worry he will be accosted in an alley.”

He laughed at her brazen speech. “Danger lurks in these streets for both of us. This carriage, on the other hand”—he captured her gaze with his just long enough to cause her to shift in her seat—“is perfectly safe.”

Her heart skipped. Unbidden, a flush heated her face. “If you won’t tell me where you’re going, the least you can do is tell me where you were.”

He waggled his blond eyebrows at her. “You first.”

Oh, devil take the man. If Roman wanted to remain an enigma, so be it. She knew enough about him to crave his body wrapped around hers and his mouth slanted across her lips. That was all she needed, wasn’t it?

She met his gaze with a boldness she only halfway felt. “I am in the process of founding a girls’ school, if you must know. I was meeting with my adviser.”

“Oh?”

She nodded, sitting straighter, her hands pressed to her knees. “I shall be its headmistress, once I am free of Trestin’s ridiculous plans for my marriage.”

Across the carriage width, one golden eyebrow rose with incredulousness. “Does he know?”

She turned her head toward the window. Oh, he knew; if only he would understand. But fighting with Trestin never seemed to accomplish anything. “He doesn’t accept it.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Roman tilt his head as if weighing her answer. “He ought to have had brothers, rather than sisters. They’re much easier to manage.”

“Your brothers are hardly saints,” she replied, thinking of the four men she’d known from infancy.

“No, but I don’t concern myself with their troubles. They can get on without me. Ashlin is too engrossed in caring for you and your pretty twin to remember he has his own life to live.”

Lucy frowned as she looked at Roman. Trestin was hardly as obsessed with her daily activities as he’d been before Roman had stolen Miss Gray away with the shocking truth.

Lucy wanted to ask him why he’d ruined two people’s happiness when Trestin might have gone on obviously, but instead of bringing up what must surely be a sore subject, she corrected him on his second point. “Delilah and I are not twins.”

Roman grinned. “But she is pretty.”

She felt her face heat. It was the second time he’d called her pretty, even if the compliment was a little convoluted. “Trestin is distracted of late,” she mumbled, redirecting the conversation to her brother, without intending to do so.

It was just that Roman made her feel so…flustered.

Roman shrugged, a charismatic insouciance that made him seem worldly. “We can’t every one of us set our best foot forward all the time.”

Yet he couldn’t be entirely ignorant of the reason why Trestin was maudlin. “Will he be more attentive at my come-out, do you think?” Lucy asked. “It’s only three days away.”

Roman shrugged again. “Who can say?”

She shook her head slightly, so that it was clear his answer didn’t satisfy her.

“Oh, come now, I won’t have you put out on your special day,” he said with a handsome smile, swinging his legs so that he sat upright. “I’ll be there, if you must have someone doting on you.”

Dear Zeus, if Roman deigned to dote on her at her
come-out,
she’d swoon!

She might swoon just looking into his eyes. He seemed utterly serious.

Her pulse began to pound.

He grinned. “I’ve always said Trestin should treat my brothers as his own. It stands to reason his sister is my sister, then.”

Her face fell before she could stop it.
Damn him three ways to the Underworld
. That was hardly the sort of attention she craved from him.

She mustered an indifferent smile that didn’t begin to reflect the frustration rebuilding in her breast. “In that case, be prepared to be ignored at every turn. And I
will
dance with Kinsey twice. You can’t stop me.”

Roman’s head tilted almost imperceptibly, as if he were considering something altogether new. “Will you be at Lady Melbourne’s ball tonight?” he asked, holding her gaze.

She couldn’t quiet the flutter in her breast.
This
was more like it.