How to Seduce a Scoundrel (6 page)

“Lean back,” Georgette said. When Julianne complied, Georgette dabbed the cool, damp cloth over her face and laid it across Julianne’s eyes. “This will help reduce any puffiness.”

“I wish it would take away her pain,” Amy murmured.

Julianne only wished for numbness.

None of them said anything. Julianne appreciated their silence. For now, it was enough to have them beside her. She would not be able to bear being alone.

After an interminable amount of time, she became aware of an aching in her neck. She removed the cloth and lifted her head.

Georgette took it to the washstand. When she returned, she let out a long sigh. “Better now?”

A hysterical laugh escaped her. “Oh, yes. All my dreams are dashed, but I’m perfectly content.”

Her friends exchanged worried looks.

“He was only trying to put my brother off the scent,” Georgette said. “Hawk would not admit his feelings before telling you.”

Julianne huffed. “Are you deaf? He did tell me his feelings.” Then, realizing her harshness, she winced. “Forgive me, please.”

“You are wounded,” Amy said. “We understand.”

“I refuse to believe he isn’t halfway to falling in love with you,” Georgette said. “When he danced with you, he could not tear his eyes away.”

“Georgette, it is no use.” Julianne shuddered. “He teased me tonight, the same way he’s teased me since I was a little girl.”

“Where is your spirit?” Georgette laid her hand on Julianne’s shoulder. “You cannot give up so easily.”

“Easily? I’ve waited four years for him. Nothing I do will change his feelings.” She hung her head. “I gambled on him. And I lost.” She’d convinced herself she could make him love her. The same way she’d tried so hard to win her father’s love.

What was wrong with her?

The maid returned bearing a tray with a decanter of wine and three glasses. Amy rummaged in her reticule. Coins clinked in her hand as she followed the maid over to the table, speaking softly. After the maid handed round the glasses, she left the room.

“Her name is Meg,” Amy said. “I gave her a shilling.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of it,” Georgette said. “You are always so thoughtful, Amy.”

The three of them sat silently, drinking wine. After the first few sips, Julianne felt a tiny bit better. Each time thoughts of Hawk entered her head, she drank some more. After several minutes, she tipped the glass to her lips and frowned. It was empty.

“More?” Georgette asked.

“I’ll get it.” Her legs trembled a little, but the wine numbed her. She refilled her glass and returned to the settee. “I suppose I shall live.” Despite her brave words, sorrow flooded her heart.

Georgette sniffed. “You will make him sorry.”

“Georgette,” Amy admonished.

Julianne contemplated her glass. “He is a swine.”

“Amen,” Georgette said.

“Let us talk of something else,” Amy said.

Georgette gulped her wine. “All men are swine.”

“They all take mistresses,” Julianne said, remembering what Hester had said about Hawk. “Even some of the married ones.” Like her late father.

Georgette sighed. “Sometimes I think mistresses have all the fun.”

Amy made an exasperated sound. “They are poor women who have no choice but to sell their bodies. It must be very frightening to be so dependent.”

“But we are dependent,” Julianne said. “Men control our lives. They have all the power. We wait and wait for them. All the while, they dally with bad women and put off marriage. We pin all our hopes on them, and then,
poof
, they dance away because they do not want to give up their raking.”

“You are right,” Amy said. “But do we not give them the power?”

“This conversation is depressing my spirits.” Georgette rose. “I need another glass of wine. Amy, I’ll pour more for you as well.”

“But I’m not done with this one.”

“I’ll top it up.” Georgette snatched Amy’s glass, spilling a bit on her skirt. A red stain spread, seeping into the cloth. “Oops.”

“You had better dab that damp cloth on the stain,” Amy said.

“But then my skirts will be wet.” She giggled. “Oh, they are already wet.”

They all burst out laughing.

Georgette walked to the decanter and refilled the glasses.

“We should take care not to become inebriated,” Amy said.

“Oh, why not?” Georgette gulped her wine. “All the gentlemen are sure to be three sheets to the wind by now.”

“But we are ladies,” Amy said.

Georgette snorted. “We are foxed ladies.”

“Not foxed enough.” Julianne sipped her wine. “How shall I hurt him?”

Georgette returned with both glasses and handed one to Amy. “We could put a curse on him.”

Amy set her glass aside. “Silly. We don’t know any curses.”

“I do.” Julianne smirked. “Damn.”

“Bloody hell,” Georgette said, lowering her voice in a bad imitation of a man.

“The devil.” Amy snickered.

The three of them planned various, ridiculous tortures for Hawk that included the rack and chains. A few minutes later, Georgette poured the dregs of the decanter into her glass. “Julie, I am still convinced he is in love
wish
you,” she said.

“No, he isn’t.” A hiccough escaped her.

Amy regarded her with a frown. “Julianne, everyone in the ballroom remarked upon the way he looked at you on the dance floor. He continued to hold you even after the music stopped. I think his actions speak louder than his words.”

Julianne stilled. He’d teased her, and then he’d gazed at her longingly. “Amy, you’re right.” She hiccoughed again. “He made me believe he cared. But when he realized everyone was talking about our waltz, he got cold feet. How dare he—
hic—
toy with me?”

Georgette smirked. “We will find a way to make him pay.”

“We are not the only ladies who suffer because of those rogues who evade marriage,” Amy said. “There must be some way for all the ladies to take the power into their hands.”

“How?” Georgette said.

Julianne grabbed Amy’s arm. “You are brilliant.”

Amy blinked. “But I have no solution.”

Julianne grinned. “I do. Thanks to Hester. She told me how to entice a rake, and—
hic—
I foolishly ignored her.”

“But do we want to entice rakes?” Amy asked. “Should we not concentrate on the nice gentlemen?”

“What
nish
gentlemen?” Georgette grumbled. Then she polished off her wine.

Amy frowned. “The younger ones are agreeable.”

Julianne covered another hiccough.

Georgette scoffed. “The cubs can barely utter a word without
twipping
over their tongues.”

“You are both missing the—
hic—
point,” Julianne said, revenge on her mind. “We can entice the gentlemen by making them think we desire them. And then we will drop them like hot coals.”

“We won’t remember this tomorrow,” Amy said. “Julianne, you have a terrible case of the hiccoughs. You had better stop drinking.”

She hiccoughed again and nearly spilled her wine while setting the glass on the floor. “I remember every word Hester said and will write it down for the two of you.”

“If we are to succeed, we need all the single ladies to join us,” Georgette said. “Then the gentlemen will
notish
.”

Julianne frowned. Georgette was slurring her words.

“We will have to sw-swear all our sisters to silence,” Georgette said. “I wager all the other girls are as
disguised
with the gentlemen as we are.”

“You mean
disgusted
,” Julianne said, noting the glassy look in Georgette’s eyes.

“But will we not drive the gentlemen into the arms of those hussies who troll the theaters? Or worse, those married women with no scruples?” Amy asked.

Julianne gave her friends a smug look. “We will be—
hic—
like Anne Boleyn.”

“What?” her friends cried out in unison.

“She kept Henry the Eighth on a frustrated leash for years. If she could do it, so can we.”

Her friends burst out laughing.

The door opened.

“Meg, you’re
jush
in time,” Georgette said. “Will you bring more wine?”

“It appears you’ve had quite enough.” Hester strode past Meg.

Julianne hiccoughed and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Hester glanced at the empty decanter and turned to Meg. “Everyone is filing downstairs for the midnight supper. Do not let the girls leave. I shall return directly.”

Hawk slouched in his chair at the card table. He assumed Julianne was well enough. Amy Hardwick was a responsible girl and would have alerted his aunt if Julianne had taken a turn for the worse. He wondered about Julianne’s sudden illness. Was it his confrontation with Ramsey or had the overheated ballroom made her ill? Hawk had never thought Julianne one of those delicate
female creatures, but the devil knew his sisters complained incessantly of mysterious ailments.

Despite his preoccupation, he’d automatically memorized the cards previously played. He visualized the remaining ones, an easy task given that he need only recall by a single suit, in this case hearts. Across the table, Ramsey frowned at his hand, hesitating. The reprobate had joined the game at the last minute. Over the years, Ramsey had taken every opportunity to needle him. Hawk had ignored him for years. Tonight, Ramsey had forced a confrontation.

Hawk covered a yawn, growing bored with the tedious delays. Ramsey made a stupid play. With a smug grin, Hawk threw down his queen, winning the trick and the rubber, in this case, the best three out of five games.

His partner, a young cub with a blade of a nose, crowed. “You’re a wizard,” Eastham said. “It’s almost as if you could see through the discards.”

Hawk said nothing. Long ago, he’d learned to calculate the odds at cards.

“The devil.” Ramsey’s partner, Durleigh, gathered the cards and shuffled.

Eastham leaned across the table, his intent gaze on Hawk. “Do you have a talisman?”

“No.” Most gamblers were superstitious and kept all sorts of lucky charms on their person while playing. Far too many lost fortunes and called it capricious luck. He’d amassed a considerable fortune simply by leaving the table when he was ahead. When he’d attempted to use his winnings to pay for a mistake he’d made long ago, his father had refused to take the money. The memory still burned, but he shoved the useless thought aside.

At the approach of a footman, Hawk frowned.

“Lord Hawkfield, your aunt requests you attend her in the ballroom,” the servant said. “She asked for Lord Ramsey as well. The matter is urgent.”

Hawk’s heart drummed in his chest as he shoved his chair back. Julianne could be dangerously ill, and he’d wasted precious time. He strode from the card room, fearing the worst. Ramsey followed close behind.

Hester waited near the door. Hawk noted the other guests were leaving the ballroom, probably for the midnight supper.

“Where is Julianne?” Hawk asked his aunt.

“With her friends in a bedchamber adjoining the lady’s retiring room.”

Hawk envisioned Julie-girl shivering on the bed. “My God, how bad off is she?”

“All three girls are in a shocking state,” Hester said.

Ramsey stiffened. “I’ll find Beresford and have him send for a doctor immediately.”

Hester shook her head. “That would be unwise.” She looked about her as if checking to be sure no one listened. Then she leaned toward them. “They drank an entire decanter of wine.”

Silence reigned from the retiring room next door.

“Everyone has gone downstairs for the midnight supper by now,” Amy whispered.

“Oh my God, I cannot let my brother see me foshed,” Georgette said.

“You mean
foxed
.” Julianne hiccoughed again. “I will have to convince Hawk to say nothing to Tristan. Otherwise, my brother will make me return home.” The very thought made her stomach roil.

“I have a plan,” Georgette said. “We will disappear until their tempers cool.”

Amy made an exasperated sound. “Hiding will only postpone the inevitable and make everyone angrier with us.”

“Hah! You’re not the one who must face the f-firing squad.” Georgette lurched to the door and opened it. “Meg, come inslide.”

“She means
inside
.” Julianne hiccoughed.

After the maid entered, Georgette spoke. “We need to go to the water cl-closet.”

Meg looked uncertain. “You had better wait for the lady to return.”

“I cannot wait,” Georgette said. “Tell Lady Rut-Rutledge to meet us downstairs if we mish her.”

“My lady, you’d better stay put,” Meg said. “The wine has gone to your head, it has.”

“No.” Georgette motioned to Julianne and Amy. “Come.”

Julianne hesitated. “Georgette, we’d better not.”