How to Woo a Reluctant Lady (8 page)

“Quiet! I shan’t listen to another bad word about him. I know what he’s done in the past, and I’ve made my choice. You
three have naught to say about it.”

They were sweet to be so concerned, but she was tired of their viewing her as some innocent who had to be protected from men at all costs. They didn’t treat her like that in any other arena.

“Very well,” Oliver shot back. “I’m sure Gran will have plenty to say.”

Minerva certainly hoped so. Still, she grew more uneasy the longer Gran took with Giles. Whatever were they discussing? No doubt Giles was trying his patented charm on her.

Well, he might get around other women, but not Gran. Minerva had heard enough from the servants about her brothers’ exploits—all of which had included Giles—to know that he was more familiar with brothels and debauchery than most of London’s rakehells. Gran would never countenance his suit. Then Minerva would be free of her ultimatum at last.

As they stood in the hall waiting, Freddy, the cousin of Oliver’s new wife, walked up. He and his own wife had been visiting since their return from America.

He made straight for a dish of lemon drops on a side table. “What’s going on?”

Oliver’s expression softened slightly. “Nothing that concerns you, lad.”

“Minerva wants to marry a scoundrel,” Gabe bit out. “Gran is giving the fellow what for.”

“Is that why a group of men are pouring into the Crimson Courtyard?” Freddy asked. “Are they friends of his?”

Her brothers gaped at him, then bolted down the hall.

Minerva smiled. Freddy might be obtuse, but he had his uses. “How many men would you say there were?”

With a shrug, Freddy popped two lemon drops in his mouth. “Twenty, maybe?”

That should keep her brothers out of the way for a bit.

“At first I thought the fellows might be here for the race,” Freddy went on. “Then I remembered that the race is tomorrow.”

Minerva narrowed her gaze. “What race?”

Freddy looked at her, then blinked. “Dash it all, I forgot I wasn’t supposed to say anything to you ladies.”

“The race involves Gabe, I take it?”

“How did you guess?” he said, alarmed.

She eyed him askance.

“Oh. Right. He’s the only one around here who races.”

“He’s a complete and utter fool, is what he is,” Minerva grumbled. “Even after breaking his arm racing a few months ago, he’s driven his phaeton in three more. Gran chides him every time, but it seems to make no difference.”

Freddy sucked calmly on the lemon drop. “I think that’s why we’re not supposed to tell her about it.”

“I daresay you’re right.” And that’s why the only ones in the family who’d seen him race were her brothers, since the private affairs generally involved Gabe’s rather fast set. Women weren’t supposed to attend them because of all the drinking, gambling, and soiled doves.

Hmm. Perhaps there was a way she could use this in her fight with Gran. “Are Jarret and Oliver going?”

“They said they were.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I wanted to go myself, but Jane wants me to take her and Maria shopping in town tomorrow. I hate shopping. There’s never anything to eat. Just gowns, gowns, and more gowns. Why do you ladies need so many gowns, anyway? You can only wear one at a time.”

“We have to have something to fill up the closet, or the mice move in and build nests,” she joked.

“Really?” he said with perfect sincerity. “I had no idea.”

Sadly, he probably didn’t. “What time is this race?”

He looked uncertain. “I don’t know if I should say.”

“If you tell me, I’ll tell you where Cook puts the kidney pies to cool.”

His eyes lit up. Freddy was remarkably easy to bribe. “It’s at ten in the morning.”

“And where is it taking place?”

“Not quite sure. Near some inn in Turnham. That’s all I know.”

The door to the drawing room opened and Giles and Gran came out, looking suspiciously convivial. Minerva tensed. That wasn’t a good sign.

Gran started. “Where did the lads go?”

“Apparently, the gentlemen who’ve come to be interviewed are overrunning the house,” Minerva said with some satisfaction. “Freddy tells me they’re filling the Crimson Courtyard.”

“God help us all,” Gran muttered. “I suppose I shall have to go marshal more servants.”

When she headed down the hall, Minerva called out, “Wait! What about me and Giles?”

“I gave him permission to court you,” Gran said with a dismissive gesture. “At least
he
is a legitimate suitor and not some riffraff who answered an advertisement.” She shot Freddy a dark glance. “Keep an eye on those two, will you, lad?”

Minerva was still gaping at her when Gran hurried off. Drat the woman. Minerva should have known that Gran wouldn’t give in so easily.

“What does she mean, ‘keep an eye’ on you?” Freddy asked.

“I believe she wants you to chaperone,” Giles said drily.

“Oh, God,” Freddy said with a hint of panic. “Don’t know a thing about chaperoning.”

Mischief glinted in Giles’s eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll just
chaperone ourselves.”

“That’s like asking a dragon to guard the virgin,” Minerva mumbled under her breath. She smiled brightly at Freddy. “There’s no need for you to chaperone anyway. Our guest was just leaving.” Though she meant to get some questions answered privately before he did. “I’ll see him out and be back in a flash.”

Freddy looked nervous. “Should I go with you?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said lightly. “What could possibly happen between here and the door?” Leaving a place as large as Halstead Hall required navigating several corridors and at least two courtyards, but with any luck Freddy wouldn’t think of that. “I’m sure Mr. Masters can be a gentleman for
that
long.”

“Masters,” Freddy said, his brow furrowed. “I’ve heard that name before.” He brightened. “Wait, did you bet Lord Jarret that you could drink ten tankards of ale in an hour and still pleasure a wo—” He broke off with a look of chagrin.

“Yes, Giles, are you
that
Masters?” Minerva asked sweetly.

“Absolutely not.” Giles tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, then started down the hall.

As soon as they were out of Freddy’s earshot, she said, “Liar.”

“Not at all,” he said grimly. “It was only five tankards.”

He seemed embarrassed. That wasn’t like Giles, from what she knew. Like her brothers, he’d always acted the carefree rogue with no apparent shame.

“And did you win?” she asked with an arch glance. She hated how much it bothered her that he’d made a wager that involved pleasuring
any
woman, even a lady of ill repute.

“Does it matter?”

“You’re the one who said I should ask questions about what I could expect from my future husband in the bedchamber. I figure that if you won the bet, that shows you have enough
stamina to keep me happy.”

Giles steadied a piercing blue gaze on her. “If you’re trying to shock me, it won’t work. I’ve read your books, remember?”

Yes, that was the trouble.

A niggling suspicion entered her mind. “You didn’t tell Gran that I don’t really mean to marry you, did you?”

His expression turned unreadable. “You promised to kill off Rockton. Why would I jeopardize that by scheming with your grandmother?”

“Good point.” But she still didn’t trust him. “So what
did
you say to Gran? How did you convince her to allow a courtship between us?”

“I told her I wanted to marry you. That I admired and respected you. That I could support you. Why? What did you
want
me to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Something alarming.”

“Like ‘Please let me marry your granddaughter, Mrs. Plumtree, so I can beat her every morning and chain her to the bed every night’?”

She struggled not to laugh. “Something like that.”

“You’re too immersed in your gothic novels, minx. If I told her such a whopping lie, she’d smell a rat. Or she’d refuse to let me court you, kick me out of the house, and that would be the end of your plan. She has to see me as a problem, and how can I be a problem if I let her dispense of me too easily?”

“True. So how exactly do you mean to be a problem?”

He tugged her through the nearest open doorway, which led into the deserted breakfast room. Then he hauled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

He gave her no chance to think or marshal her defenses, as she had earlier. He just kissed her with a boldness that melted her to her toes. Her pulse jumped into a martial beat, and her
head began to spin. He swamped her with the sheer, visceral power of seduction and turned her resolve to mush. Along with her brain, her knees, and a few other body parts.

Silky warmth stole through her body when the kiss turned blatantly wicked. Even knowing he was just behaving true to form for a scoundrel didn’t keep her from responding. She’d spent nine years remembering their one toe-curling kiss, and she wanted another one too badly. She’d curbed her desires earlier; she couldn’t curb them now.

Especially when his hands began to roam her body with decided possessiveness. He swept them up and down her ribs, making her ache to feel them in more intimate places. Would he dare touch her where he shouldn’t? Did she dare let him?

Then the kiss was over, leaving her shaking with unmet urges she’d never thought to feel again.

He nuzzled her cheek. “Does that answer your question?” he asked in a husky murmur that resonated throughout her traitorous body.

She struggled to regain control of it. And to remember what he was talking about. Ah yes. How he meant to become a problem for Gran. “Your kissing me cannot possibly help this situation.”

“If your grandmother sees us, she’ll realize I’m more of a scoundrel than a suitor and she’ll grow alarmed.”

Minerva drew back to glare at him. “If she sees us, she’ll proclaim me compromised and make me marry you.”

“And that would work?” he said skeptically. “I got the idea that your grandmother couldn’t
make
you do anything.”

“I don’t particularly want to test that theory.” She pushed at his chest. “Besides, I’ve got a less dangerous way to make you into a prob—”

“God help me,” muttered a voice from the doorway.

Minerva’s heart sank as she turned to see Freddy, his eyes round at the sight of Giles’s hands still clasping her waist. And Giles certainly took his sweet time about releasing her.

“What are you doing here, Freddy?” Minerva asked, irritated at them both.

“I thought there might be some muffins left from breakfast.” His gaze turned accusing. “You said you were just showing him out.” Freddy ran his fingers through his hair as he darted a glance in the direction of the Crimson Courtyard, named for its bright red paving tiles. “Dash it all, your grandmother will skin me alive. And your brothers will hold me down while she does it. I was supposed to chaperone.” His voice rose with his hysteria. “You said nothing could happen between the drawing room and the door—”

“Nothing
did
happen,” Minerva said firmly.

Freddy’s gaze flew from her to Giles. “But Masters there had his hands—”

“It’s fine, Freddy. He was just . . . steadying me. I almost fell.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know.”

She sighed. “Of course not. But honestly, there’s no reason for anybody to hear about it. I won’t say anything if you don’t. Why should we bother Gran with this?” She cast him a sly look. “I would hate to see you get into trouble.”

“That would be very bad,” he muttered. “Jane would never forgive me. She likes your family. She wouldn’t want us sent home with a cloud over our heads.”

“Exactly,” she said, feeling a small twinge of guilt at playing on his unreasonable panic. Especially since she could feel Giles’s gaze boring into her. “We’ll just keep this between us, all right?”

“All right. Although maybe I should go with you to see Mr.
Masters out.”

“Good idea,” Giles drawled as he offered Minerva his arm.

She took it, her heart beating faster when he laid his hand on hers. He wore gloves, as did she, yet she swore she could feel the heat of his flesh through both layers of leather.

As they headed for the door, she said, “Let’s avoid the courtyard, shall we? No point in reminding my brothers that they want to thrash Mr. Masters.”

Giles shot her a half-smile. “Concerned for my welfare, are you?”

“Not a bit,” she lied. “I just hate the sight of bloodshed.”

“I would never have guessed,” he said as they headed toward the back entrance to Halstead Hall, Freddy falling into step behind them. “Your books are full of it.”

“That’s precisely the trouble with you. You keep confusing fiction with real life.”

He lowered his voice. “Only because you keep turning real life into fiction.”

Shooting a glance to where Freddy lagged some steps behind them, she dropped her voice to a murmur. “And I’ll continue to do so if you ever kiss me like that again in a place where my family might see. That will void our agreement, do you understand? I will keep writing about Rockton until I
die.
”

He searched her face, as if trying to determine her sincerity, then gave her a cool nod. “You drive a hard bargain, my dear.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

They walked together a few moments in silence.

As they neared the back entrance, he asked, “May I call on you again tomorrow? I don’t have to be in court until Wednesday.”

“Actually,” she said, “why don’t you take me for a drive in the morning, say, nine o’clock? That sounds enjoyable.” Though
he wasn’t going to like
where
she planned for him to drive her.

He eyed her with clear suspicion. “It sounds early.”

“Too early for you? Or do you just not wish to go?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s an outing with you. Why would I pass that up?”

She snorted. “Save your false charm for a woman who doesn’t know you as well as I do.”

He sobered, his eyes gazing solemnly into hers. “You’d be surprised how little you know me, Minerva.”

She wrenched her gaze from his. She wished that were true. She wished he were something other than a rogue like her father and her brothers. But there’d been nothing to indicate that in all their encounters. Certainly there’d been nothing to indicate it in the stories her brothers told about him.