How to Seduce a Scoundrel (10 page)

Julianne blew out her breath as if relieved.

He ought to bow out as her guardian, but then he’d have to explain his reasons to Tristan. What would he say?
Your sister got foxed, and I punished her with a lascivious kiss
?

He’d made a bad mistake, but that didn’t change his responsibility as her guardian. If anything, he must tighten the reins to ensure she stayed out of trouble. “We have yet to settle the matter of last night’s fiasco.”

She clasped her hands and faced him. “We both had lapses in judgment, but we will forget them.”

He considered her guileless expression for a long moment and didn’t trust her. “To prevent future problems, I will set forth my expectations.”

She frowned. “What?”

“As your guardian, it is my duty to make the rules clear in advance. Now, rule number one: You may not accept any invitations until I approve of them.”

She muttered something under her breath, but he refused to let her deter him. “Rule number two: No more than one glass of wine or sherry.”

“Am I allowed to count the number of brandies
you
imbibe?” she said, her voice rising.

He would not let her divert him. “Rule number three: No flirting.”

“Do you plan to sew my lips shut?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “Rule number four: I must approve all your dance partners in advance.”

“Do you plan to make them audition?” she said in a sugary-sweet voice.

Her saucy retort irritated him. “It was wrong of me to kiss you, but that leads me to rule number five: If any other man tries, you are to slap him and then inform me so I can kill him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, and I do not appreciate you giving me rules.”

“I’m not done,” he said. “Rule number six: You will have nothing to do with Ramsey.”

“How am I to avoid him when he is Georgette’s brother?”

“I will keep him away,” he said.

She made an exasperated sound. “Next thing I know, you’ll tether me in leading strings.”

“As long as you follow the rules, there will be no trouble. Now, tonight, I will escort you and my aunt to Lady Morley’s literary salon.” The last thing he wanted was to waste an evening listening to fops read syrupy verse, but he had no choice. After last night’s debacle, he dared not trust Julianne again.

“My mother drummed the proprieties into my head long ago,” she said.

Evidently, they had flown out of her head last night. “If you wish to stay in London for the remainder of the season, you had better adhere to the rules,” he said. “There will be no more chances for you, my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.”

No, and she never would be.

Hawk took up a stance near the sideboard in Lady Morley’s crowded drawing room and sipped a brandy as he watched the guests milling about. Naturally, half a dozen young bucks surrounded Julianne. He tried telling himself they were young, in awe of her beauty, and therefore harmless. But they were
males
. The second they clapped eyes on a lovely woman, their primitive instincts took over, and their brains conjured up a picture—a naked picture.

Fire sizzled his blood at the thought. Clenching his fists, he moved to rescue Julianne from their lascivious ogling. But Lord Morley, a rotund fellow with florid cheeks, lurched past him. Hawk stepped sideways, sloshing his brandy and barely avoiding a collision. He set the glass aside and took out his handkerchief to dab at his damp sleeve.

Julianne sashayed over to him, her slim brows elevated. “You reek like a brew house. How many brandies have you had?”

He put the handkerchief away. “I am not foxed.”

She scoffed. “More evidence of your hypocrisy.”

“You violated rule number three.”

“Refresh my memory,” she said.

“No flirting,” he growled.

She huffed. “I spoke to those gentlemen for a brief time. They are very nice.”

“Right-oh.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Ramsey, Georgette, and Amy headed toward them. He knew Ramsey intended to use his sister as a means of engaging Julianne in conversation. Determined to thwart the fiend, Hawk took Julianne’s arm and all but dragged her away.

“Let me go,” she said.

His hand clamped tightly on her fingers. “No.”

She looked over her shoulder. “You did that on purpose.”

Well, that was obvious. “I’m taking you to my aunt.”

“What next? Do you plan to lock me up?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

As Hawk passed the cubs who had flirted with her earlier, he gave them a menacing don’t-even-glance-at-my-ward look. He smiled evilly at their arrested expressions, certain now they would keep their distance.

A sense of satisfaction swelled his chest. He had complete control of the situation now. Granted, he’d probably go bloody mad with boredom while escorting Julianne and his aunt about town. But he would not renege on his promise to Tristan.

When they reached his aunt, a slim, elderly gentleman with thinning hair approached her with a cup of tea.

“How very thoughtful of you, Mr. Peckham,” Hester said. “And here is my nephew and Lady Julianne.”

While Hester made the introductions, Hawk wondered where she had met Peckham. Then again, his aunt collected strays wherever she went.

Lady Morley clapped her hands and asked everyone to find seats so that the literary event could commence. Hawk sat next to Julianne, wondering how long the poetry
readings would last. His aunt had mentioned a midnight repast. He retrieved his watch, and with an inward groan, he noted it was only a quarter past nine. What a dull way to spend the evening.

Julianne leaned closer to him, filling his head with her light floral scent. The devil. This guardian business was addling his brain.

“If you are so eager to depart, be gone,” she whispered. “Your aunt and I can take a hackney home.”

He put his watch away. “You wound me. I thought you longed for my company.”

She huffed.

Lady Morley smiled. “Now let us begin. Lord Ramsey has graciously agreed to read one of Shakespeare’s sonnets.”

Hawk snorted.

Julianne elbowed him. “Stop acting like a wayward schoolboy,” she said sotto voce.

He grinned. “Must I?”

“Hush.”

Ramsey strode to the fireplace, opened a small leather-bound book, and looked directly at Julianne. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

“How original,” Hawk muttered.

Julianne swatted his hand with her fan.

“Ouch,” he yelped, shaking his stinging hand and interrupting Ramsey’s droning voice.

“Hawk, you rogue,” Lady Morley said, affection in her voice. “Will you behave?”

He winked. “I shall try to mend my naughty ways.”

When laughter erupted, Ramsey narrowed his eyes. “I will start from the beginning so that we may experience the verse as it was meant to be heard.”

No doubt the bard was rolling in his grave at the prospect.

Ramsey cleared his throat. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and—”

Lord Morley, who was passed out on the sofa, broke wind. His lady kicked him in the shin. He jerked up, looking round wild-eyed. “What? What?”

Hawk’s shoulders shook, knowing the next verse would trip up Ramsey.

Ramsey’s jaw worked, but he stubbornly continued reading. “Rough winds do shake…” His face heated as he paused.

Julianne clapped her hand over her mouth.

Hawk bit back laughter and slid down in his chair. This evening was turning out to be far more entertaining than he’d expected.

Ramsey managed to stumble through the rest of the sonnet. When he finished, Lady Morley hurried to the hearth. “Lord Ramsey, thank you for that stirring rendition.”

Ramsey stalked off to the sideboard, poured himself a brandy, and tossed it back.

As two more gentlemen read from Thomas Wyatt and John Donne, respectively, Hawk fought back a yawn more than once. Then one of the cubs approached Lady Morley. With a bright smile, she informed everyone that Mr. Charles Osgood wished to read his own verse.

The lanky cub blushed as he withdrew a folded paper from his coat. He affected a lovesick expression, one he must have thought suitably poetic. “It is called ‘The Lady of Moonlit Tresses.’ ”

Hawk cupped his hand round Julianne’s ear. “Things are bound to liven up now,” he whispered.

“You are incorrigible,” she murmured. “He’s a very nice young man.”

Osgood took a deep breath and said, “The moon upon her raven tresses doth shine. Of her beauty, the stars declare divine.”

Hawk reached over and tweaked the curl by Julianne’s ear. She glared at him.

Osgood paused to place his hand over his chest. “Alack, my heart is filled with woe.”

“Is this the part where he mops his tears with a hanky?” Hawk whispered.

“Shhh,” Julianne said. “He will hear you.”

Osgood lowered the paper and looked at the ceiling as if beseeching a higher power. “Oh, lunar goddess, all my dreams upon thee I do bestow.”

A smattering of applause followed. Osgood’s friends were smirking and elbowing one another. No doubt they meant to rib the bad poet mercilessly.

After four more dull readings, Lady Morley once more walked to the hearth. Hawk hoped it was time for refreshments.

Lady Morley smiled sweetly. “Lord Hawkfield, perhaps you would care to read a verse or two.”

He grinned. “Very well. I shall recite my favorite. There once was a lady with a penchant for whist, who drank so much ale that she pi—”

“That will be quite enough, you scamp,” Lady Morley said.

An hour later in the noisy dining room, Julianne huddled with Amy and Georgette in a corner, apart from the other guests. Hawk sat at the table, wolfing down sandwiches.
Satisfied that he was preoccupied, Julianne turned to her friends and told them about the rules he’d given her.

Georgette pulled a face. “That devil.”

Amy sighed. “He
is
taking matters too far. I’m sure he’ll relent once he realizes you are abiding by the proprieties.”

Julianne thought better of telling her friends she’d already broken every rule of conduct when she’d fallen into his arms. She’d given in to his every kiss and touch as if she were a… a courtesan. The memory heated her face. She unfurled her fan and wafted it to cool her cheeks. “I need your help with the next chapter of the pamphlet. How is a lady to become irresistible to gentlemen?”

“Lady Rutledge mentioned implied promises of, er, seduction,” Georgette said under her breath.

Amy shook her head. “Julianne, you must not include such indecent advice.”

Julianne ignored Amy’s warning. “I suppose the lady could give the gentleman a suggestive look. What do you think?”

Amy’s lips parted. “I think your scruples have gone on holiday.”

Clearly, Amy would object to every idea, so Julianne directed her questions to Georgette. “What else can a lady do to entice a man?”

“Flirt,” Georgette said.

Julianne waved her hand. “Yes, but I need an idea that is unique. The lady must stand out among a crowd of women. What can she do to become an original?”

“Beauty trumps everything,” Amy said with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

Julianne regarded Amy with excitement. “You just
solved the riddle for me. Beauty may be the initial attraction, but beauty alone will not sustain a gentleman’s interest, particularly one who balks at marriage.”

“That would be all gentlemen,” Georgette grumbled.

Julianne continued. “It is said that Anne Boleyn was no great beauty, and yet she charmed every man at court.”

“Anne Boleyn is no one to emulate. She was a horrid, conniving woman who committed adultery with the king,” Amy said.

“She got the worst of the bargain.” Georgette demonstrated by slicing her hand across her throat.

“All the same, she knew how to play gentlemen to make them want her,” Julianne said. “I need to include specific examples.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Have a care. Lord Ramsey is approaching.”

Julianne glanced at the table, fearing Hawk would intervene, but he’d wandered off to speak to a group of gentlemen. She mentally chided herself. What did she care what he thought? She would speak with whomever she chose.

When Ramsey reached them, he bowed. “Lady Julianne, at long last, I have an opportunity to speak to you.”

Georgette rolled her eyes. “Henry, can you not see we are engaged in a private conversation?”

He ignored his sister and kept his bright gaze on Julianne. “Am I to be privy to your confidences?”

She blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “Are you interested in ladies’ fashions?”

“I’m interested in ladies, or should I say one lady in particular,” he said, his voice rumbling.

Good Lord. Hawk had been right about Ramsey’s intentions.

Julianne darted a glance at Hawk. He’d yet to notice Ramsey, but he would soon. He’d been watching her all evening and likely would try to rescue her from Ramsey’s supposedly wicked clutches. But she’d no intention of letting him take her away from her friends.