How to Seduce a Scoundrel (41 page)

A tap sounded at the door. With a smile, she sat up in bed as Hester entered the bedchamber. “I knew you would come.”

Hester sat beside her on the bed. “I’m feeling rather sentimental this evening.”

“So am I,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

“Oh, my dear, it is I who should thank you. I’ve very much enjoyed being your aunt for a season.”

“I will always think of you as my aunt,” she said.

Hester smoothed the covers. “I hoped you would be my niece by marriage.”

She drew her feet up on the mattress and wrapped her arms around her shins. “I came here with girlish aspirations of winning his heart, but I leave as a woman with the knowledge that hearts are not won. They are given.”

“Since this is our last night this season, I will offer a bit of wisdom if you are willing to hear it.”

“I have always set great store by your advice,” Julianne said.

“There are no certainties in life,” Hester said. “Sometimes you must take a leap of faith. When you are in doubt, look into your heart. You will find the answer there.”

Hawk was late as usual.

His aunt would probably put a flea in his ear for arriving thirty minutes late, but his spirits had risen this morning.

He’d received a letter from Brandon. Miraculously, it had not gone astray. The new tenant at Hawk’s old rooms
at the Albany had redirected the letter to Ashdown House. Foolishly, he’d folded it and tucked it inside his coat. He hoped to find a private moment during the long journey to read the letter again.

Brandon had said he thought it ridiculous for them to remain strangers. He’d admitted he’d been ready to plant Hawk a facer when he’d come to London, but he thought Hawk all the crack for sitting by the fire and toasting cheese. Hawk smiled. His son thought him all the crack.

He’d written to him immediately and warned the boy not to reveal the truth about their special relationship. And he’d told the boy it would be best to inform his father. Hawk knew he’d done the right thing, but he feared Westcott would try to put a stop to their correspondence. Westcott would likely cut up nasty, because Hawk had violated the terms of the agreement by answering the boy’s letter. But Hawk had decided enough was enough. He’d spent twelve years in hell, believing he’d never see his own son.

He’d given Brandon his address in Richmond and let the boy know how to reach him at Gatewick Park. At the end of his letter, he’d told Brandon to contact him if he ever had the need.

Upon reaching his aunt’s town house, Hawk directed the servants carrying the trunks. A year ago, he’d traveled with Tristan and his family to Gatewick Park. Lord, he still couldn’t believe the now–dowager duchess had let Tristan and Tessa ride alone in that carriage. By the time they’d reached Gatewick Park, the pair had emerged from the carriage disheveled and flushed. Hawk had watched his friend court all those belles last season, and it had been obvious to him that Tristan was mad for his matchmaker.

Thoughts of his old friend troubled him. Tristan had entrusted him to guard Julianne, and he’d failed miserably. His conscience bothered him, but he couldn’t undo his mistakes. In the end, Julianne had made her choice, one that still left a hollow place in his chest. He dreaded telling her good-bye after the house party ended. Because he would miss her. He already did.

The front door opened. His aunt and Julianne emerged, carrying the blasted spaniels. Hawk fisted his hands on his hips as they approached. “The dogs are not allowed in my carriage.”

Julianne lifted her chin. “They will be miserable without Hester. Besides, they won’t cause any trouble.”

“They are dogs,” he said. “All they want is food and a walk. The servants can look after them for a fortnight.”

“Marc, I am bringing them, so save your breath,” Hester said.

Caro wiggled in Julianne’s arms and whined. “Oh, look, she wants you.” Julianne dumped the dog into his arms. “She can keep you company.”

“The devil take it,” he muttered.

“Watch your language, Marc,” Hester said. “By the way, you are very late. What kept you?”

“I had to respond to a letter.”

“A likely tale,” Julianne said. “You undoubtedly overslept.”

“If those dogs cast up their accounts in my carriage, you’re both going to answer for it,” he said.

Ten minutes later, the carriage rolled off. Naturally, he got stuck with the dogs on his seat, because there wasn’t room for them on the bench where Julianne and Hester sat.

They hadn’t even gotten out of London when his aunt
pulled out the pamphlet. “Julianne, perhaps you could read to us.”

Hawk schooled his features as he watched Julianne’s eyes widen. He’d known the minute he started reading it that she’d written the outrageous tract. Lord, he could almost hear her speaking the lines. He folded his arms over his chest and decided to have a bit of fun at her expense. “Julianne, I forbid you to read that rubbish.” That ought to make her blood boil.

“I’ll read what I please,” she said, opening the pamphlet. “And you have no say. I dismiss you as my guardian.”

“You cannot dismiss me. I am your guardian until we reach Gatewick Park.”

He couldn’t resist bedeviling her and leaped up to snatch the pamphlet from her hands.

“Give that back,” she cried.

He opened it. “Ah, here is one of my favorite passages.” He grinned at her over the pamphlet, only to find her fuming with her arms crossed over her chest. Hawk read in a falsetto voice, “ ‘A woman who is assured of herself exudes a mysterious quality, one that makes her alluring to gentlemen. You need not have excessive beauty. It is said that Anne Boleyn was only moderately attractive, but her vivacity and quick wit drew gentlemen to her side.’ ”

He snapped the pamphlet shut. “Anne Boleyn, the most notorious woman in the history of our nation, is held up as an example to follow in this pamphlet. I am shocked, deeply shocked, that my ward and my aunt would admire such immoral and radical advice. As Julianne’s guardian, I feel duty-bound to set an example. As soon as we reach the next inn, I shall toss this disgusting rubbish onto the fire.”

Julianne gasped. “You will not burn my pamphlet!”

He clutched his chest. “
Your
pamphlet?”

Her attempt to look innocent fell far short of the mark. “Yes, that is my copy, and I demand you hand it back.”

“I smell something fishy,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Now that I think about it, there is something familiar about the writing style. It has puzzled me for some time.” He regarded his aunt. “Do the words not ring a chord of familiarity, Aunt?”

She grinned. “Scamp. How did you figure it out?”

Julianne gasped. “Hester, no. My reputation!”

“Will be in tatters if anyone ever guesses you were foolish enough to write and publish this pamphlet,” Hawk said. “As for how I guessed, the advice about planting posies in the drawing room was one of the most telling clues. Aunt, I suppose you encouraged her.”

She held her quizzing glass up to her eye. “I did.”

“Your friend Mr. Peckham must have seen to its publication.”

“Insolent puppy,” Hester muttered.

Hawk laughed. “The day I lifted her restriction, I couldn’t believe she wasn’t chomping at the bit to escape the house.” He looked at Julianne and shook his head. “Minx. You told me you were writing, and I thought you meant letters.”

She sniffed. “I shall never tell. And I will never speak to you again if you burn my pamphlet.”

“I won’t burn it, but I highly advise you to keep it and your identity as the author well hidden,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Marc.”

He stilled. She’d not called him by his Christian name since she was a little girl. He wondered if it meant something. Probably not, though he found himself wishing that things had turned out differently for them.

A Lady’s Secrets of Seduction: Love conquers all.

A
fter an overly long journey that included far more stops than necessary, they had finally arrived at the Black Swan Inn. Now they sat in a private dining parlor adjoining their rooms after eating a plain but decent meal.

The spaniels pawed at his legs and whined. He glowered at them. “If you think I’m giving you treats, you’re dead wrong.”

“They are sweet little dogs,” Julianne said. “And you shouldn’t speak to them in such a gruff manner.”

“Those
sweet
little dogs are the reason we arrived so late. I cannot believe how many times we had to stop for them to piss.”

“Watch your language,” Julianne said.

He snorted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they did it on purpose.”

Hester yawned. “Could be. They know you’re a soft touch.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I am not.”

His aunt sighed and looked suddenly weary. When she rose slowly, he rushed over to help her.

“Don’t treat me like an old woman, Marc. I may be, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You will always be young in spirit,” he said.

“Well, my body is not so youthful. I am for bed. Julianne, you may stay with Marc if you’re not tired yet.”

“Oh, no. I should go to bed early as well. We have another long journey tomorrow.”

As his aunt ambled off, Julianne regarded him. “I will ensure she rests well.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t want to think about her aging. “I fear this journey has been too much for her.”

“I will take care of her,” Julianne said.

He looked down at her and saw the concern in her beautiful blue eyes. “You’ve grown quite fond of her.”

“She’s become like my own aunt.”

She’d spoken with a hitch in her voice.

“Hester dotes on you. I know she’s enjoyed your company this season.” He paused, unsure if he ought to say it and decided to do so. “And so have I.”

She laughed. “You obviously have a very poor memory.”

He pulled her curl. “Imp.”

She cleared her throat. “Good night.”

He wanted to beg her to stay and discuss what was and what wasn’t between them. Part of him still hoped there was a chance they could work through their differences. But she crossed the corridor to the room directly opposite his and disappeared without a backward glance.

•   •   •

He awoke, thinking he must have dreamed he’d heard geese honking. Then he heard the sound from across the corridor and winced. His aunt’s snoring was unbelievably loud. He sat up. Poor Hester. She must be exhausted, and of course she couldn’t help it. Poor Julianne. She wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with that racket booming in her ears.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it. He yawned and turned onto his side.

Outside, a door creaked. Oh, Lord, now what?

Someone knocked on his door. “Hawk?”

It was Julianne. “Just a moment. He grabbed his banyan robe from the bottom of the bed and slid it over his naked body. Then he padded to the door to find Julianne standing there in her white night rail. Her long, jet braid hung over her shoulder.

“I can’t sleep,” she said.

“Come inside.”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” she said. “But I felt as if someone were blowing a trumpet in my ear.”

“Poor girl.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll curl up on the sofa.”

He shook his head. “I’ll take the sofa. You take the bed.”

“I’m smaller and will fit snugly there. You are too big to sleep on the sofa.”

He took her elbow. “I insist.” When she climbed onto the mattress, he pulled the covers over her. God, he’d give anything to crawl inside those sheets with her. But they weren’t married and never would be. With a sigh, he took the other pillow and walked over to the small, lumpy sofa.

He didn’t fit, not even curled on his side. For the first time in his life, he wished he weren’t so tall. There was no help for it. He’d have to sleep sitting up. When he folded his arms over his chest and lowered his head, Julianne made an exasperated sound.

“This is ridiculous. I will sleep on the sofa. I insist you take the bed,” she said.

“Julianne, believe it or not, I am a gentleman, and I’ll be damned if I let you sleep on this lumpy sofa.”

“Watch your language.” Then she sat up and hopped off the bed.

“Julianne, get back under the covers. I am not letting you sleep on this sofa.” He paused and then added, “It’s probably got fleas.”

She shrieked and ran back to the bed.

His shoulders shook. Lord, he enjoyed teasing her. But the room was growing colder, and he was uncomfortable. He gritted his teeth, knowing he’d survive.

She sat up.

“Julianne, lie down and go to sleep.”

“I can’t when you’re shifting about and obviously uncomfortable. Come to bed.”

“I think a flea just hopped on me.”

“This is a big bed. We can share it.”