The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Patience was one of the few virtues Grayson had cultivated between his vices. If Jane desired courtship, he would oblige her. In their game of love, he had no doubt who would emerge triumphant. She might tease him to death, but in the end the male would dominate. He would gladly wear his heart on his sleeve to prove to her and the world that he adored her.

Yet if he was confident of his ability to win, he did not take much else in life for granted. Jane had challenged him emotionally and intellectually from the moment they’d met. Until they stood before man and God at the altar, he would continue to pursue her. Even if only to prove his devotion. To prove that while seducing her had been sublimely pleasurable, it had not been his sole aim.

He was utterly serious when he told her he needed her help to handle his family. What a wildling bunch they had become. He sensed in Chloe a revolution brewing, a deep unhappiness that, if not thwarted, could only lead to disaster. Heath also appeared to be headed for some enigmatic, undoubtedly dangerous course.

The worry did not end there. His prim and proper sister Emma had lost her husband, and, as a widowed viscountess, stood in a vulnerable position in society, even if she refused to see herself that way. Drake and Devon had always been restless souls, drawn to trouble time and time again. And brave young Brandon would never be coming home to bedevil them again.

The Boscastle line needed Jane’s strength and cunning to survive the perils of another century. Grayson needed her for his own survival.

He called formally that same evening at her house to escort her family to the opera. The two of them stood alone together in the drawing room for several minutes. Grayson, in elegant black evening wear and gleaming boots. Jane, in an off-white satin gown draped across her soft shoulders like the petals of an exotic lily.

They went so well together. What other woman in the world aroused and tamed his demons at the same time?

He circled her slowly, a lion examining his prey. “That dress,” he said in a low voice, “looks a little too nice on you.”

“Do you like it? You should. It is one you picked out for me, the only selection from the mistress wardrobe that I could wear in public.”

He stopped, leaning down to rub his chin on the enticing curve of her shoulder. “I think I had a private affair in mind when I chose it. Did the drive back from Brighton give that devious mind of yours a rest?”

“Indeed, my lord. And your devious mind?”

He pressed a kiss on the arch of her throat, murmuring, “Plotting all over the place to have you to myself again. I miss you, Jane.” She shivered lightly as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “How long do we have to wait?”

“We can’t get married until after Cecily is married, and one simply can’t throw a wedding together in a week.”

“Elope?”

“Except, Grayson, I do have my heart set on a proper ceremony, a wedding to remember. . . .”

“You had one as I recall.”

“Well, I thought this time I might invite the groom.”

He sighed. “When is Cecily’s wedding?”

“A fortnight from now, in Kent, at her father’s manor. Are you coming?”

“Why not? The last wedding you and I attended was certainly entertaining.”

“My family will be there,” Jane said, warming at the thought of showing her rogue off to the rest of her relations. “You can frighten my sisters with your appalling manliness.”

“I suppose I shall have to get used to these family affairs,” he said quietly. He turned her around to face him, drinking in the sight of her satin-draped curves. Was she carrying his child? Had that delicate waist begun to expand the tiniest bit? They had certainly made love enough in Brighton to make it a possibility. He ran a finger beneath her throat. He felt very protective of her all of a sudden. “I want to set a date.”

“A date for what?” she asked with a smile.

His fingertip teased the underside of her breast. He watched in satisfaction as her breathing quickened. “For baking Christmas pudding. What do you think?”

Jane lifted her face to his. “Wasn’t that part written into the clandestine contract?”

“Despot that I am, I neglected that important detail.”

“I’m surprised the other despot who is my father allowed the omission.”

“I believe he was in shock,” he said, and stole a kiss a few seconds before the father under discussion appeared in the doorway with his wife.

“Are you two going to stand here all night or accompany us to the opera?” Lord Belshire demanded, his gruff tone hiding his pleasure that his Jane had found a man like Sedgecroft to take care of her. “Nothing worse than arriving right in the middle of a damned aria.”

“We shall cause a scene no matter when we arrive,” Athena said behind him, slim and elegant in a white satin shawl and an ice blue moire taffeta gown. “People are dying to know what sort of arrangement Grayson has made with Jane. I shall be delivering snubs all night long.”

The social uproar Athena had predicted came true only seconds after they took their box in the opera house.

Even those in the audience in the know could not quite decide what to make of this. Lord Belshire, his family, and his vibrant eldest daughter poised on the arm of a handsome scamp, the notorious lady looking radiant for someone who was allegedly ruined. Hadn’t the papers reported only two weeks or so ago that a certain marquess was shopping for a wardrobe with his mistress? And an indiscreet shopgirl had reported the naughtiest conversation in the upstairs chamber of a well-known Bond Street establishment. . . .

Wives and daughters borrowed quizzing glasses to take a look at Jane’s ivory satin gown, recognizing the work of the demimonde’s darling modiste Madame Devine. No one remembered that particular dress on Jane before and then . . . oh, the ever-delicious Sedgecroft had just kissed her ear! Trust him to please the crowd. Yes, he had kissed his love in public. At the very moment the scandalous couple bent heads simultaneously to pick up the program Jane had dropped.

“Everyone saw that,” she whispered with a hot blush as he glanced up, grinning into her face.

“Your father didn’t,” he whispered back. “That’s all I have to worry about.”

“The scandalmongers will say they were right all along, and the papers will keep printing horrible things about us.”

“Gossip will not kill us, Jane, or I would have been dead long ago.”

She pretended to scan her program, tempted to throw her arms around his strong neck and kiss him back. “You’re probably right.”

He settled his large frame back in his seat. “The truth, my darling, is that anybody who is anybody will hope to be invited to all the social affairs hosted by the new Lady Sedgecroft. That would be you.”

“Would it?” she whispered, smiling as she pictured the pair of them presiding over the ton in the ballroom of his Park Lane house.

“I am the head of the family,” he added. “As such, it will be my privilege to enjoy watching the other eligible Boscastles be cornered at the supper parties my wife will give.” He leaned down to whisper, “That would be you again.”

She glanced up at his handsome face and felt her heart overflow with an almost fearful happiness. Yes, this Boscastle was hers. His wonderful, wicked brood would become her children’s heritage. The prospect should have sent her straight to the sofa with a vinaigrette, but Jane had always been the type to challenge fate.

She said, “Which of your siblings do you think will marry next? Drake?”

His blue eyes darkened. “At the moment, I am focused on achieving that status for myself. Perhaps I shall have to make you want me more.”

“How?” she whispered, unable to imagine how such a thing could be possible.

“I shall not touch you again, Jane, after tonight. Not so much as a kiss until our wedding day.”

“You, Sedgecroft, showing self-control?”

“We shall see who weakens first,” he said smugly.

“Did you just issue me a challenge?” she whispered.

“I believe I did.”

“What shall we bet?”

“What do you have to offer?”

“Excuse me.” Jane’s father, seated behind them, stretched forward to tap them on the shoulder. “Is the opera interrupting your conversation? Shall I ask Signora Nicola to take her solo into the alley?”

“My apologies, sir,” Grayson replied with a straight face. “Pay attention to the performance, Jane, dear,” he added in a voice loud enough to carry.

“Oh, I am,” she replied, giving him a scowl that might have had more effect if behind her Caroline and Miranda had not suddenly burst into giggles.

Grayson glanced around to flash them a charming grin. “All right, you two. You’re going on the list along with the other family members who need to be married off for the benefit of Society.”

“Which is all very well and good,” Lord Belshire said grumpily, leaning forward a final time to speak. “But let us see you married first, hmm?”