The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Jane lifted the sinewy male arm that imprisoned her midriff like an anchor and let it drop onto the bed. The owner, a great naked, blond beast who had ravished her, gave a grunt of contentment and rolled onto his side. This reaction afforded her an eye-popping view of the long torso that tapered into lean buttocks, then iron-hard thighs. As she admired the sight, he wrapped his arm around the bolster she had vainly attempted to shove between them throughout the night.

Not, she reflected wryly, that such an insubstantial barrier had deterred him one bit. He had not made poetic love to her. He had gleefully debauched her, and she, just as gleefully, had encouraged him to new heights of decadence.

She stared in wonder at the devastation of the bedchamber. It had been a night to remember. Chairs overturned, champagne glasses on the floor, her chemise hanging like an emblem of surrender from the bedpost.

Surrender? Good heavens, she had been the one on the attack toward the end, making the most of her glorious fall from grace. Had she really let him bind her to the bed with her stockings? And those little love bites all over their bodies . . .

How had this happened? She had been such a decent young lady until recently, so well behaved, so virtuous. Yes, rebellion had always simmered under the surface, but the acts in which she and Sedgecroft had participated were unspeakably naughty by any standards. Loving him had turned her entire world upside down. The thought he might resist returning her affection was unbearable.

A hesitant footfall sounded outside the door. A soft knock followed, and she held her breath as the knob did not turn. That could only be Simon, she thought, aghast, sliding off the bed where her partner in decadence slumbered on.

She dressed in her robin’s-egg blue muslin traveling gown and fished her half boots from the tangle of bedding on the floor. At the door she stopped to stare back with reproach at the reflection in the looking glass of the ruined woman she had become. Obviously she had made a muddle of her life and needed pots of tea and days of solitude to think it through.

“You could at least look as if you were sorry,” she whispered to her disgraced reflection. “The best of the beau monde tried to warn you, but did you listen? No, you became a mistress.”

Halfway down the stairs she remembered that Nigel’s aunt lived in Brighton with her retired barrister husband. Since to stay in this house would only encourage her own latent indecency, she supposed she could ask for refuge until she convinced Simon to take her home. If anyone in her family ever spoke to her again, she thought, sighing at what she had done.

As she tiptoed between the marble pillars of the entrance hall, she spotted her pelisse and reticule on the hall stand where a servant had left them while their owner shamelessly revealed the wanton side of her nature in the bedchamber above.

She pulled on her pelisse and eyed the front door with its fanlight allowing pale shivers of sun to penetrate the villa’s peaceful gloom. She would look like a Cyprian strolling the promenade alone at this hour of day, but if Sedgecroft had his way that would probably be her fate.

A deep voice reached out to her from the shadows. “My brother would never forgive me if I let you escape.” A tall broad-shouldered figure detached itself from one of the pillars and stepped in front of her. “Neither would I forgive myself, for that matter. Why don’t you join me for breakfast in the green drawing room? That way, I can acquaint myself with the lady who has the head of the family behaving in such an odd manner.”

There was an air of command behind the invitation. In fact, he had taken her arm and was guiding her toward the east wing of the villa. This, she thought, sneaking a glance up at him, would be Heath, a darker, quieter, more intense representation of the Boscastle male. His straight black hair was brushed back from an angular face with chiseled features and a square jaw that denoted strength. He was practically as tall as his brother, perhaps a little leaner, with the coiled, dangerous control of a panther. The arrogance was there, but more subdued. She could sense him examining her as they walked the length of the marble-tiled floor.

“It is early to be up.” He hesitated. “Especially after a day of travel. I’m Heath, Jane, as you probably have guessed. I believe we have never been properly introduced.”

She smiled ruefully. “I don’t know that one would call these circumstances proper, either.”

“No?” His deep blue eyes glittered with guarded amusement.

“You know what Grayson is like.”

“Yes.” His tone was low, inviting trust. “But I don’t know you, Jane.”

“I am hardly at my best,” she said, her voice breaking.

She moistened her lips, aware that his dark blue gaze flickered over her, assessing every detail of her appearance from the shadows under her eyes to the reticule she clutched nervously in her right hand. Of course he knew she was not exhausted from traveling, but from a night spent in intimacy with his older sibling. The realization brought a hot stain to her cheeks.

She shook her head. “I don’t want breakfast.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Perhaps I can change your mind.”

“I know what you must think of me,” she said in a soft, halting voice.

“I doubt it.”

She swallowed, wondering what it was about him that so immediately put her at ease. “It was you at the bedroom door, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted with an apologetic smile.

“Then I am caught.”

He led her into a large room in which a cheerful fire burned and a linen-draped table tempted the appetite with a hearty breakfast for two. “Yes. I caught you going out for a walk before you had eaten. What a terrible sin that is. Come, Jane. Sit down and eat.”

“You don’t understand,” she said in chagrin. “My life is unraveling thread by thread.”

“And there is no way to piece it back together?” he asked cautiously.

She thought of the rogue asleep upstairs and smiled a little sadly. “I don’t see how.”

Her stomach contracted in hunger as he lifted the lid of a silver dish to entice her with a dish of crispy fried bacon and poached eggs. She sat, her hands folded in her lap, and sighed. “I could not eat after . . .”

His perceptive gaze rendered the end of the thought superfluous. She fell silent as he mused aloud, “Do you really love the monster all that much?”

“I would not be in this house if I didn’t.”

“Ah.” He glanced down, holding back a grin. “Then I am sorry.” Although for which one of them, he had not yet decided. Obviously Grayson had gone ahead with his plan for revenge, which a few days ago had seemed amusing. But now that Heath sat face-to-face with Jane and formed his own personal opinion, he did not perceive her to be the shallow, duplicitous female he had imagined. Instead, he admired her spirit of initiative in escaping an undesirable marriage—his grin broke free as he remembered Nigel in bed with the Iron Glove.

“Do you find my situation amusing, Heath?”

He shook his head. “Life is what amuses me, Jane.” Rising from his chair, he retrieved the silver teapot on the sideboard to pour cups of steaming black tea for them both. “The servants in this house are remarkably well trained. They do not appear unless they are summoned.”

She wrapped her fingers around the porcelain cup. “I imagine that suits your brother’s needs quite well.”

He returned to his chair. “Actually, I do not believe Grayson has ever brought a woman here before, although I know it is the fashion to maintain a mistress at one’s seaside resort. The villa has been reserved for family. And do not repeat that I told you this.”

Jane put down her cup. She tried to recall what Grayson had told her about Heath. A spy and soldier, wasn’t he? And he had ferreted out information about Nigel. She glanced up covertly and searched his handsome features. He seemed very patient, pleasant, but she realized it would be dangerous to underestimate him. Had he guessed her secret? Not to judge by the mask of masculine angles and shadows that were arranged into a very beguiling face. Or else he was a master of masquerading his thoughts, a valuable skill for an intelligence officer. She was afraid to ask him what new discoveries he might have made, but she really had to know.

“Grayson said—”

Heath turned his dark head a split second before his older brother appeared in the doorway. Jane wondered if he had been there all along, listening. He strode straight toward her, looking lithe and elegant in a pewter gray long-tailed morning coat over a white linen shirt and buff breeches. His wheat blond hair had been brushed back, revealing the bones of his face. A bolt of heat went through her as his gaze caught hers.

Despite her confusion, her uncertainty over their future together, she felt herself softening at the sight of him. Last night had tipped the balance between them even more, but she wasn’t sure what it would mean. He had stolen her heart. She had shared his bed. What would be hers in return?

Everything, she thought. She wanted every single wicked inch of him for herself. She wanted him for life. What a scandalous pair they made. How Society would be shocked by their behavior. She blushed suddenly, feeling Heath’s gaze upon her. Who knew what he made of this?

“I heard my name.” Grayson bent and boldly kissed the back of her neck before taking the chair beside her at the head of the table. “Was I mentioned in a flattering way?”

She wanted to slide under the table at the pleased grin on his face, even if his kiss had sent a shiver dancing down her spine. “What do you think?”

His eyes sparkled as his gaze held her immobile. “I think that after last night a little flattery is in order.”

Heath coughed and set down his cup. “As modest as ever, aren’t we?”

“I’m in too good a mood to bother with modesty,” Grayson said, sending Jane a sensual smile that flooded her with warmth. “Why aren’t you eating, sweetheart?” he asked in concern, putting his hand over hers. “Has my brother been intimidating you?”

He was so male, so possessive and open about what was happening between them that Jane had no idea how to react. Obviously he didn’t intend to hide anything from his brother, who looked a bit at a loss himself over Grayson’s behavior. “I’m not hungry,” she said, trying to wrest her hand from his.

“How could you not be hungry after we—” He glanced at Heath, his manner suddenly sober and disapproving. “Did you tell her about Nigel? Is that what has killed her appetite?”

Heath leaned back in his chair, regarding his brother with a resigned smile. “Why don’t you tell her, Grayson? I do so hate to be the messenger of bad news.”

“Bad news?” Jane said, her heart missing a beat. “About Nigel?”

“All right.” Grayson’s hand tightened protectively over hers. “Heath has confronted him, Jane. I don’t know of any easy way to say this, so I will be blunt and tell you everything. My cousin has married another woman. She is carrying his child.”

The room seemed still and stifling, the two men watching her so closely that she could barely swallow. Jane had never considered herself a good actress or liar. Her natural instinct was to confess her guilt. “I see. Then that is that.”

“How accepting you are,” Grayson murmured. “I would not be so in your place. Jane, really, this must be settled.”

“I cannot say it is a complete surprise.” She raised her head, forcing herself to meet the curious regard of both men. “I told you that Nigel and I never loved each other in that way.”

Grayson released her hand, running his tapered forefinger along the sharp blade of a knife. “Still,” he mused, “he must be made to pay. Your parents will insist upon it. I insist upon it. Perhaps I shall even call him out.”

She caught her breath. “Except that he’s your cousin. It would cause the worst scandal, not to mention the chance he would probably be hurt or die. I didn’t want to marry him. I . . .”

He stared steadily at her, turning the knife over in his hands. “It is a question of honor, Jane. I shall do what I must to maintain my family’s honor.”

Heath cleared his throat. “I’m not certain I agree.”

Grayson speared him with a quelling look. “Agree? Of course you do. There are legal ramifications, after all. Jane could sue Nigel for breach of promise, although personally I prefer to shoot him in the heart and be done with it.”

Heath arched his brow in reproach. “Leaving his wife a widow and their child with no papa? What are you thinking?”

Grayson gave a careless shrug. “Jane must be avenged.”

“Not necessarily,” she said, finding her voice, which emerged as an unflattering squeak. “In time the whole scandal will die down—”

“Never.” Grayson’s voice resounded across the room like a clap of thunder. “His behavior was deplorable. I refuse to let the matter rest, and that is the end of it.”

“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.”