The Seduction of an English Scoundrel (24 page)

“The Lord has spoken,” Heath said, with an ironic smile in Jane's direction.

She rose from her chair. At this point a coward's retreat seemed her best option. “I think I should leave the two of you alone to discuss this.”

Grayson frowned at her. “Don't feel you must leave, sweetheart. You have a perfect right to know exactly how I plan to avenge your honor.”

“Quite frankly,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I would prefer to pretend the whole affair never happened.”

I'm sure you would,
Grayson thought wryly as he glanced down at the knife in his hand.
But, don't worry, my darling, I promise you the happy ending you deserve. We both owe Nigel a debt of gratitude for bringing us together. The tale of our romance shall entertain our descendants for years to come.

“Would you like Nigel to make a public apology to you before the duel?” he asked, his expression solicitous.

She paled at the thought. “That will not be necessary. Grayson, you must understand that I do not care whether he is married. He could have seven wives for all it mattered to me.”

He shook his head in dismissal. “Women are far too forgiving. Besides, he is a Boscastle, and I have taken it upon myself to be your protector. What would people think of me if I failed to make a stand? What would my father think if he knew I had let my own family down?”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Heath, please try to talk some sense into your brother. I am apparently unable to dissuade him from this course of male idiocy.”

Heath lowered his gaze, seeming quite at sea himself. “I shall do my best, but my brother rarely takes advice.”

She cast a dark look at Grayson as she stepped around her chair. “Yes, I know. But try anyway. I am going back up to my room.”

Grayson caught her hand before she took another step. “We've been invited to Plumpton for the races tomorrow, if you are up to it. And there's a puppet show on the promenade this afternoon. I thought we might watch it before the ball tonight.” He smiled up into her eyes, his voice deliberately provocative. “Unless you would rather stay home alone with me again. That thought appeals to me, Jane.”

To Jane's horror she felt his large hand sliding around her backside, and instead of resisting the outrageous wretch, she caught herself leaning into him, eager to be held against that warm hard body. While his brother watched in utter, fascinated silence. “Stop it right now,” she said firmly.

“Kiss me before you go.”

“Take your hand off my bum, you silly beast,” she whispered, twisting at the waist.

His hand caressed the curve of her bottom. “Not until you kiss me.”

“Your brother is watching.”

“It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Grayson, you are—”

“A kiss,” he demanded. “Heath, turn your head.”

She bent to brush her mouth primly across his freshly shaven cheek. A second later she found herself sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her with a flagrant sensuality that left him breathing as unevenly as she. His eyes glittered with raw desire when he finally, reluctantly, set her back on her feet.

She marched toward the door. The flare of passion between Grayson and her had charged the room like the stillness before a thunderstorm. The imprint of his powerful body seeped deep into her bones. She could not bring herself to glance back at Heath as she hurried into the hall, but if she had stayed she might have intercepted the meaningful look that passed between the two men. She might have seen the love and hunger for her that Grayson tried so hard to hide.

“Whew,” Heath said, pressing the heels of his hands against the table, “after that little display, I am feeling rather deprived myself. Congratulations. I understand everything now. One doesn't need a fire in the room when you two are together.”

“Don't congratulate me yet.” Grayson's voice was husky as he exerted a conscious effort not to follow her from the room. The woman weakened him without even trying. “I haven't gotten her to the altar yet. She might find a way to dispose of me.”

Heath stared at him in disbelief for several seconds before throwing back his head to laugh. Grayson, worried he would lose the woman he desired? Grayson, insecure in the role of seducer? His eyes shone with appreciation. “A first in the Boscastle family history—one of our men plotting to capture a bride.”

“Your legendary memory is failing, Heath,” Grayson said dryly. “Our predecessors kidnapped their brides as a matter of course. And don't forget the shame of our recent history—Nigel himself went to quite desperate measures indeed to marry his heart's desire.”

Heath grinned in delight at the reminder of their boisterous past. “But we never really considered him one of us, did we? As I recall he failed our rite of initiation in the castle when he turned thirteen.”

“That's right.” Grayson broke into a grin. “I'd forgotten that one myself. Do you remember his face when our milkmaid began to disrobe in front of him?”

“And then he was rescued by—”

“The Iron Glove.” Heath looked stunned. “Oh, my God. That must have been the start of their infamous love affair. Esther rescued him from our corruption only to corrupt him years later herself.”

“Did she actually beat us with a rod or her bare hands?”

“I'm not altogether sure,” Heath said. “Whatever it was hurt like the devil.”

“Whose idea was it to sabotage the wedding?” Grayson asked curiously. “Jane's or Nigel's?”

“Nigel refused to say, which was either remarkably brave or stupid, considering that I had two pistols trained on him.”

“It was Jane's,” Grayson decided with absolute certainty. “Nigel would never have the courage or wits to dare. I suppose they might even have gotten away with it had I not come charging in to save the day. No wonder Jane was so appalled by my offer to help.”

The two brothers lapsed into silence. Heath stirred first, glancing up with a concerned frown. “Just remember that schemes can backfire, Grayson. Jane is a delight for all her faults. Neither of you is exactly what one would call of meek character. It isn't fair to toy with her heart when she clearly adores you.”

Grayson's voice was quiet. “I adore her, too. Right now in my desk sits the special license I obtained before leaving London. Jane and I are a day away from respectability.”

“Then tell her you know what she did. You'll have to sooner or later.”

“And I will,” Grayson said. “When the proper moment arrives.”

He was more convinced than ever that if Jane were capable of sabotaging her own marriage ceremony she would not respect him if he allowed himself to be duped. Jane's cunning called for the same devious subterfuge from her partner.

“I don't want to disappoint her, you see,” he added in a thoughtful voice. “I cannot let myself be outwitted by my future wife.”

“It is a gamble to play with her. You might not be as clever as you think.”

“Our game will end soon enough.”

“Are you certain you will win?”

“How can I lose?”

Heath shook his head. The unguarded love on Jane's face for his older brother touched something deep in Heath's heart. Jane and Grayson were perfect together, a dynamic match for a family on the verge of falling apart. Until he had met Jane himself, he had not fully understood Grayson's attraction to her. Now he did. Where would his brother find a woman with the backbone Jane had shown, a mate to challenge his headstrong nature? They complemented each other so well.

“Tell her, Grayson. Trust my instincts. Tell her tonight after the ball or there might be more trouble than you bargained for.” He chuckled softly. “I shall quite enjoy seeing how this all ends.”

Chapter 21

Jane leaned against the bedchamber door, her heart beating in panic. If Heath had found Nigel and Esther, it would only be a matter of time before one of them broke down and revealed her role in their scandalous marriage.

Nigel was a friend. He would defend her to a certain degree, but she could not expect him to stand up to the likes of Grayson. Especially not if Grayson went ahead with this pigheaded notion of a duel. Nigel fainted at the sight of a pricked finger. His wife was more likely to be the one to meet Grayson on the dueling field. The way Jane's life was headed, she might end up serving as Nigel's second herself.

There was only one thing left to do. Confess everything. Apologize to all parties involved. Then throw what was left of herself upon the mercy of Cecily and her duke while the world decried her. Perhaps she would become a governess to their children and spank wicked young boys for a living. The worst of it would be Grayson's reaction. He would hardly show that her deceit had hurt him. He would simply cut her dead.

She wasn't fool enough to think she could confess to his face and live to tell of it. He would never forgive her. He would probably laugh if she tried to explain how desperately she had wanted to avoid an arranged marriage. And, frankly, she was too much of a coward even to dare. She would write him a letter and leave it under his pillow.

As she turned to the rosewood escritoire by the window, she noticed that the room had been efficiently tidied by one of his discreet staff. A hip bath sat beside the screen, filled with steaming water. Thick clean towels lay plumped up on the bed, and a bowl of fragrant musk roses occupied the nightstand.

And on the dressing table next to her treasured mouse brooch sat a new blue velvet jeweler's box with a card tucked beneath it. She read it twice, tears blurring her eyes.

Something to commemorate our first of many nights together.

G

Inside the box she found a large marquis-cut diamond pendant on a gold chain. Costly. Elegant. The gift a generous man would give a mistress to mark a night of passion.

“Do you like it?” Grayson asked quietly from the door.

She let the necklace slither through her fingers. “It's absolutely extravagant. I wish I could accept it.”

“Of course you can. Why don't you undress and model it for me?”

“I beg your pardon. At this time of day?”

He gave her a long sultry look. “Morning or midnight. I am obsessed with you, Jane.” He closed the door behind him. “It is my pleasure to give you jewels.”

How was a woman supposed to rally a defense when a man made remarks like that? How was she expected to think when he locked his arms around her waist and pulled her down with him into the chair? Her heart was aching as he sank his fingers in her hair and silenced her protests with the most tender of kisses. She had shared his bed and did not regret it.

“Jane,” he whispered. “Thank you for last night.”

She closed her eyes, envisioning his face when he found her letter, cringing at the very thought of how disgusted, how angry he would be. He was so unforgiving of Chloe's rebellions, so convinced of the male duty to dominate a woman's life. He would never understand what she had done.

“Is something wrong, Jane?” he asked gently. “Those aren't tears in your eyes, are they?”

“Promise me something, Grayson.”

“Anything,” he said, brushing her cheek with his knuckle.

“Promise me you won't hurt Nigel.”

He went still. “It really is intolerable that you mention his name to me while you are in my arms.”

“Will you promise me that?”

His blue eyes bored into her. “People deserve to be punished when they hurt others. Don't you agree?”

“I'm not sure.” His gaze pinned her unmercifully with its piercing intensity. As much as she loved him, there were moments when she could have cheerfully hit him into oblivion. “There are times to forgive.”

“Not in my book. Shall we discuss something else?”

“Please, Grayson. I ask only this one thing of you.”

“What will you give me in return?”

She might have agreed to give him whatever his wicked heart wanted had heavy footsteps not come echoing up the stairs, pounding down the hall to their room.

“Grayson!” an irreverent male voice shouted outside the door. “Where the deuce are you hiding? I just left Helene in London, and the woman is cursing you to the heavens. Are you in there?”

“God almighty,” Grayson muttered, throwing an irate look at the door. “It's Drake. Stay here while I get rid of him.”

She eased herself out from his arms. “Promise me you will not do anything to Nigel.”

His face reflective, he rose to his feet and straightened the long tails of his coat. “I shall have to think about this, Jane. Remember that Nigel and his parents have depended on the largesse of my family for years. His behavior is an insult to both me and you.”

 

The male voices outside the door gradually faded away. Jane undressed and lowered herself into the copper-lined bath, contemplating her future as a fallen woman. As soon as she had completed her toilette, she would compose two letters. One to Grayson, another to her family, although after the way her father had practically thrown her to the lion, she did not hold hope that he would forgive her for the shame she had caused the family.

She sighed, thinking of her sisters, of the pleasant life she had taken for granted, of the way Papa had bullied and protected her, of the marriage he'd arranged because he believed that Nigel would be good to her.

She sank deeper into the scented water, her brow furrowed in troubled concentration.

Papa's behavior seemed so irrational. And had her mother actually supported his moral about-face, this shove of their socially disgraced daughter into her sybaritic lifestyle? It was so out of character for her parents. After all, their reasons for selecting Nigel had been his good-natured gentleness, his puppylike loyalty, his apparent lack of interest in rakish pursuits.

In short, they had chosen Nigel because he was the exact opposite of Grayson. Which only made their betrayal all the more mysterious. Unless—

She dropped her sponge into the water.

Unless they knew. Unless one of her sisters had blurted out her secret about her pact with Nigel. Making Jane in their eyes to be the betrayer, not the betrayed.

And if her entire family knew her secret, chances were that Grayson knew, and this whole humiliating situation smacked of Boscastle arrogance through and through.

He knew everything.

Their session at the modiste's. The change that had come over him. The heartless gleam in his eye. His sudden desire to bring her to Brighton.

He knew.

She
had been the unwitting pawn in his diabolical scheme. But for how long? For what purpose?

He knew.

She surged out of the tub, Venus on the warpath as scented water sloshed all over his plush Axminster carpet.

“Oh, the fiend,” she muttered, standing stark naked and dripping in front of the dressing table. “That scheming son of Satan! Playing with me like a lion would”—her eyes lit on the diamond brooch—“a mouse!”

The fact it was her scheming that had caused this imbroglio did surface in her thoughts, but she promptly buried it under a blanket of righteous indignation. Turn her into a high-class courtesan, would he? Parade her in diamonds and pink silk, eh? Never in a thousand years with her strait-laced Papa have agreed to such a thing without a compelling reason.

Well, it would take a Boscastle to best a Boscastle, and Jane had no doubt where to find the weakest link in the family line.

She dressed and marched barefooted straight down the hall to Chloe's room, chasing out the maid who was trying to return the room to a semblance of order. Chloe apparently had plunged back into her passion for social reform after learning that her cavalry officer William had been sent to a new barracks in Devon. Now she lay curled up on the chaise, her lap heaped with letters to friends in Parliament, a box of half-nibbled chocolates, and a list of works she intended to tackle. The blinds were closed to emphasize the aura of solemnity, and Chloe merely raised her brow when Jane stormed into the room.

“Ah.” She tossed back her thick black hair, her voice sympathetic. “Your first fight with my beastly brother, is it? I don't know what you see in him anyway. Chocolates for the lovelorn?”

“I want the truth, Chloe.”

“Truth?” Chloe put down her pen, her attention caught. “He's a tyrant, a destroyer of all one holds dear. That is the truth. He went over William's head and had him sent to Devon to deal with smugglers. My brother ruined any chance that I would ever see him again. Not that I should have, mind you, but it would have been nice to say good-bye.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Chloe, but I must know something. Why did Grayson bring me here?”

“I should think that was obvious,” Chloe said, not unkindly. “Poor Jane. I held such high hopes that you would resist him.”

“Answer me.”

Chloe appraised her in silence, her blue eyes bright with conflicting emotions. “I have never, never, ever in my life betrayed a Boscastle secret, but as you are practically a Boscastle and a member of my sex, I am honor bound to do so.”

Jane sank down on the chaise, her skin tingling at the vengeful note in Chloe's voice. “What are you saying?”

“Grayson and Heath don't know that I know,” Chloe said in hesitation.

“That you know what?”

“They didn't tell me.”

“Didn't tell you what?”

“I eavesdropped, you see. I was hiding in the library when Grayson sent for the solicitors.”

“Chloe, if you do not give me a straight answer this instant, I shall dangle you out the window by your hair until you do.”

Chloe's soft pink mouth pursed in disapproval. “You already sound like a Boscastle.”

“Why did Grayson send for his solicitors?”

Chloe leaned forward. “Will you protect me from his wrath when he finds out I was the one to peach on him?”

Jane straightened in alarm. What horrendous thing had Grayson done behind her back? “I shall do my best.”

“Nigel told Heath everything,
everything,
Jane, about how the pair of you conspired to thwart your parents so that he could marry Esther, about the generous wedding gift you gave them, about the months of plotting.”

“Nigel, who swore to me he would never reveal our pact even if he were put to torture,” Jane cried in outrage, although she really ought not to be surprised. “Oh, the spineless coward. I shall throttle him for this. If Esther has not already done so.”

“Heath can be very intimidating when he wants to,” Chloe said.

“So can Grayson.”

“It appears to be a family trait.”

“Kindly return to the subject, Chloe.”

“Oh, well, as you have probably already guessed, Heath told Grayson, who reacted in typical high-handed fashion. Did he confront you and give you a chance to explain? No, he summoned his solicitors in the middle of the night and met in secret with your father.”

“To sue me for sabotaging my own wedding?”

“No. To arrange one. Yours and his.”

Jane's heart skipped several beats. She could not picture her father involved in this midnight intrigue. What was that devil lover of hers doing? “I believe I have misunderstood you. Grayson intends to—”

“Marry you.”

“Not that I should become his mistress?”

“Oh, good heavens, no. That was part of his plan to teach you a lesson.” Chloe popped a chocolate into her mouth while Jane stared at her in wordless shock. “Are you sure you don't want one of these?”

“The scoundrel,” Jane said, exhaling slowly, a smile of delight spreading across her face. So, he
had
been toying with her, had he? Planning a naughty game to punish her for deceiving him. Perhaps she deserved it. But he hadn't won yet. Jane's fighting spirit rose to the challenge. Her next move must be thought out carefully. She had played right into his hand last night by demanding he marry her. How he must have enjoyed watching her panic.

“I should have known the unprincipled rogue was up to something,” she muttered.

“Don't you just hate him?” Chloe asked in sympathy.

Jane's smile tightened. “Of course I don't hate him. I love the blackguard, or I would not have allowed myself to be placed in this unspeakable position.”

“I wish I could be placed in an unspeakable position with a man I loved,” Chloe said, her eyes glinting with wistful mischief. “Every time I come even close, one of my odious brothers makes an appearance to ruin everything. Ever since my father's death, Grayson and Heath have protected me to the point that I may as well live in a cage. I think I'm a lot like you, Jane.”