How to Seduce a Scoundrel (34 page)

“You won’t remember this tomorrow.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

She frowned. “Hawk, don’t say that.”

“Truth.”

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

He closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. He’d fallen asleep again. She considered going back upstairs, but she didn’t want to leave him like this. When she rose, his eyes opened.

“Hawk, I’ll go to the other sofa and watch over you.”

He curled onto his side, bending his knees. “Lie with me, like a spoon.”

She hesitated but sensed he needed the comfort. They fit, just barely. He wrapped his arm around her and cupped her breast. Oh, dear, what had she done? His thumb circled her nipple. She caught her breath, knowing she should move to the other sofa. His fingers unbuttoned her night rail.

“Hawk.”

“Shhh. I won’t hurt you.”

His hand delved inside and cupped her breast. He suckled her neck. Desire flooded her veins. But he was drunk, and she shouldn’t let him. She felt him harden against her bottom. “Hawk, we shouldn’t. Not like this when you’re drunk and liable to regret it.”

“You want me to stop?”

“I think I should move to the other sofa,” she said, “so you can sleep.”

“Yes, you better go, because I want to bed you. And we don’t have a bed.”

She laughed a little as she stood and buttoned her night rail. Then she kissed his cheek once more. It was a little scratchy from his beard. “Sleep.”

She curled onto the other sofa, watching him in the wavering candlelight. He twitched once, but his deep breathing continued. She wondered if he would remember anything he’d said to her. Even if he did, he would probably feign no memory of it. She knew now that the clowning was a cover for deep wounds.

His father had told him men like him never change.

Her eyes welled with tears. She’d known whatever had happened all those years ago had been bad. But she’d not known his own father had condemned him.

He woke her before dawn. She sat up a little disoriented, and then all of it flooded her brain.

“I must go before the servants stir,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “Can you make your way upstairs again? I lit a new candle.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I’ll return later this afternoon,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Julie? Thank you.”

She stood and took the candle. “Wait. Look out the window and see if your driver is still there.”

He did and cursed under his breath. “He’s gone, of course. Poor man probably froze out there for hours.”

“He knew you were drunk and probably left shortly after you arrived.”

Hawk scrubbed his hand down his face. “I was roaring drunk.”

“You don’t make a habit of it.”

“I said things.”

“You needn’t worry. I know you were soused.” She provided him with the excuse so that he could save face.

“I touched you.”

“You were a gentleman and agreed it wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’ve kept you from your bed. Go upstairs. I’ll get the servants to find me a hackney when they’re up and about.”

She wanted to hug him but knew he would realize she’d heard too much last night. “I’ll see you later, then,” she said.

She trudged up the stairs. Despite her exhaustion, she found it difficult to fall asleep. He needed her, but she didn’t know how to reach out to him.

A Scoundrel’s Confession: The path to reform is fraught with temptation.

H
e’d slept until noon. When he’d awakened, he’d bathed and drunk a dozen cups of tea dosed with willow bark. Last night, he’d reached a proverbial crossroad. He’d envisioned two paths. One involved going on as he had been, living day to day, refusing to look at the bleak future in which he remained the family scapegrace. The other involved letting go of the past and forgiving himself, as Julianne had said. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d ceded defeat a dozen years ago. Ever since then, he’d worn an invisible hair shirt and covered up the melancholy by acting the clown.

He’d made his choice, one that would free him from the past and open up a real future. One that would allow him to fully embrace his family and the incredible inheritance his father had left him.

His father had said a cruel thing to him that day so long ago. In hindsight and through the eyes of an adult, he knew his father had spoken out of anger and fear. Recalling his own fears that night Julianne had gotten foxed, he could imagine all too well how his father must have felt—only magnified a hundred times.

No father should ever have to face the possibility of his son dying in a duel.

He remembered how he’d felt. Scorned and scared. And full of bitterness. Tristan had said his father had been a good man. His father had been a hard man in many ways, because he’d felt Hawk didn’t take his future responsibilities seriously enough. After Westcott had agreed to a payment in lieu of a duel, his father had been tough on him. He’d not given him any quarter nor had he sympathized.

Hawk suspected his father had wanted him to prove himself, but after hearing his father’s denouncement, he’d felt he could never please his sire. So he’d set out to become the scoundrel his father had labeled him.

He couldn’t turn back the clock and change his past. And he couldn’t make contact. To do so would be a supreme act of selfishness, one that would condemn an innocent to scorn forevermore. His punishment would be to never know. And to always have an empty place inside his chest.

Today, he’d made his decision. He had chosen the right path, the one that meant doing his duty. No, it was more than duty and responsibility. He’d seen a glimpse of joy that day in the park with Julianne. That night at the ball, she’d shown him the way. She’d told him that his past did not define who he was to her, and she had said she would
not pressure him to divulge his secrets. She had accepted him unconditionally. He’d not trusted that unconditional acceptance at first. He’d returned to old patterns, looking for a courtesan and drowning his sorrows.

Last night, she’d stayed with him. Any other woman would have turned away in disgust. But Julianne had stayed and told him not to worry about anything he’d said.

He’d always adored her, but never more than last night. He knew what she’d suffered as the unwanted child. Years ago, her vulnerability had touched him deep inside.

She was, and always would be, his Julie-girl.

He looked at the clock. It was time to go. He would not rush her. She deserved to be properly courted.

He looked in the mirror and laughed at himself for thinking he’d look different. His aunt would put a flea in his ear for choosing her sofa as a bed. She’d never let him live that down.

With a deep breath and one last tug on his cravat, he strode out to his new life.

Julianne sat in the drawing room, looking at the clock a little too often. She had some idea what to expect of him. He probably would make a great jest of it all. She would not let on how much his drunken confessions had disturbed her. He’d been worried last night about what he’d said, though she wasn’t sure how much he would remember. She’d done her best to reassure him, but she felt at sea with him.

All these years, she’d thought she knew him. She’d learned that something bad had transpired involving Ramsey, but she’d never guessed that Hawk’s father had condemned him in such a cruel way.

She’d only been thirteen when the late earl had died. All she remembered of Hawk’s father was that he’d been a serious man, so unlike his son. She did know that Tristan had respected Hawk’s father and had relied on his advice.

“Did he talk last night?” Hester asked.

Her voice startled Julianne. “A bit. He didn’t make a great deal of sense.” She didn’t tell Hester that he’d revealed some disturbing facts about his father’s treatment of him.

Hester set her novel aside. “How much do you know, dear?”

Julianne met her gaze. “Enough.”

“I knew his father had covered up something. Marc was wild-eyed and tormented. His father said nothing to his mother, of course. But she knew and pretended not to notice. Louisa has a good heart, but she has always been one of those childish women who need others to take care of her.”

Footsteps sounded on the landing. Hawk walked inside. “I told the butler I could see myself up.”

Julianne rose. “I’ll pour you a cup of tea.”

“Thank you, but I’ve drunk enough to fill a bath.” He looked at his aunt. “I don’t know why I told the driver to bring me here last night. I suppose I’ve spent so much time here I’ve begun to feel at home.”

“You are always welcome,” Hester said. “Drunk or sober.”

“Aunt, will you allow me to speak privately to Julianne?”

“Of course.”

He helped her rise, and then he kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

After Hester left, he sat beside Julianne. Her stomach fluttered nervously.

“The things I said last night—”

“Don’t worry. The spirits loosened your tongue,” she said.

“It’s true,” he said. “I’ve thought a great deal about what my father said. He reacted out of fear for me.”

Julianne swallowed. “You were in danger?”

“He paid a fortune to keep me from facing pistols at dawn.”

She clasped her shaking hands hard. What had he done?

“When you told me I needed to forgive myself, I didn’t think it possible at first. But you said something that helped me.”

Her heart beat faster.

“You said no matter what transpired, it does not change who I am to you.”

“Never,” she said.

“You believe in me unconditionally?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve chosen to bury the past,” he said. “I’ve chosen the future instead.”

She blinked back the threatening tears. “I’m glad,” she whispered.

“I have to make amends with my family,” he said. “While I haven’t completely ignored them, I haven’t fully lived up to my responsibilities. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t look closely enough into Montague’s character before giving my blessing to Patience’s marriage. She has suffered for it.”

Julianne reached over and clasped his hand. “I know
you feel responsible, but Patience chose to marry him. And she is stronger than you think. She doesn’t let him run roughshod over her.”

“When she returns, I will speak to her privately and ensure she knows I will help her and the children if the need ever arises.

“Ironically, Montague was right about me. I have broken my mother’s heart by refusing to live at Ashdown House. And I did thumb my indiscretions in my father’s face. I should have tried to make amends, but I let pride hold me back.”

“But your father was equally guilty, if not more so,” she said. “He should have begged your forgiveness for what he said to you. Words used as weapons have the capacity to wound.”

“It cannot be changed now,” he said, “but I am the head of my family. And I have shirked my responsibilities to my brother. William probably thinks I don’t care about him.”

Julianne squeezed his hand. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I let him run amok and put no restraints on him whatsoever. I didn’t want him to suffer from an overbearing brother, because that was what I’d endured with my father. So I went in the extreme opposite direction and gave him too much freedom. It’s time I called him home and spoke to him about choosing a profession.”

She smiled at him. “You’ve made so many decisions in such a short period of time. Good decisions.”

His eyes traveled over her face. “I have you to thank for it.”

She had never loved him more than at this moment. “I’m proud of you.”

He smiled and pulled her curl. “Will you allow me to escort you tonight?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. Could it be possible? Did she dare hope that he loved her?

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“The theater.” She laughed a bit nervously. “I don’t even recall the play.”

“Let my aunt know I’ll call for both of you.”

She rose with him. He kissed her hand. “Tonight,” he said.

Her eyes welled with happy tears as he strode out of the drawing room. After he’d disappeared from her sight, she ran to the window for one last glimpse of him through the wavy glass. When he emerged from the house, she whispered, “I love you.”

At the theater, Julianne felt as if she were living the dream she’d kept alive for four long years. Hawk sat beside her, and when the stage curtains opened, he reached over and held her hand on the seat beside her, where no one could see.

Hester and Mr. Peckham were engaged in a lively conversation. Julianne pretended to watch the play, but she could not concentrate. Excitement raced through her veins. She allowed herself to imagine returning home and announcing her engagement to Hawk. His family would arrive and exclaim over the happy news. Perhaps everyone would stay for an extra month while the banns were called. And then at long last, she would be Hawk’s wife.