Page 111 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“I do.”

“So do I,” she whispered, winding her hands around his neck to kiss him. “I cannot bear to be away from you. I am ruined, Grayson, inside and out, thinking of you.”

A discreet cough interrupted Jane’s long-awaited passionate moment.

Grayson glanced around first, irritated that anyone would intrude on their privacy.

“What the—”

“Forgive me. I was looking for Chloe.” Heath held up his hands, trying not to laugh.

Grayson caught Jane by the hand. “Since it’s only you, you’re forgiven, although I can’t imagine why you couldn’t wait a minute. We were finally celebrating our engagement.”

Heath glanced around the avenue. “Congratulations.”

“Is something wrong?” Jane asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Heath replied, his gaze returning to hers. “Chloe disappeared during breakfast.”

Grayson shrugged. “I’m sure she’s somewhere on the estate.”

“But with whom?” Heath asked in a low voice. “Baron Brentford disappeared the same time as she did.”

“He was staring at her during the wedding ceremony,” Jane said in concern. “He’s such an intense young man.”

Grayson frowned. “I thought he was staring at you.”

“Only until Chloe caught his eye. She really is unhappy about losing her officer. I think she was talking with Brentford this morning.”

A blur of movement at the end of the avenue attracted their attention. Jane gestured at the two figures on horseback riding back toward the park gates. A gentleman in black from head to toe. A young woman in royal blue, her head of dark curls thrown back in laughter. No groom. Jane sighed, wondering who she was to pass judgment. These Boscastles wielded their charms like a weapon.

Grayson swore, a Boscastle not at his charming best. “We’re too late now. Whenever mischief passed between them is already done.”

“Which doesn’t mean we will allow this to happen again,” Heath said with a grim look. “I wondered why Brentford took that bottle of wine off the table.”

“Now we know,” Grayson said, his jaw taut.

Heath pivoted on his heel. “I think it’s time I introduced myself. I assume you have a few choice words for him, too, Gray. Shall we include Drake?”

Grayson looked at Jane before backing away to join his brother. “No. One of us will have to stay here to guard the queen. Jane, please give our excuses to our hosts.”

“Queen, am I? Well, listen to me, both of you, I am ordering you not to embarrass your sister again—”

“I am subtlety incarnate,” Heath said, laughing.

“And that word is not in your brother’s vocabulary,” she said in exasperation.

She watched them hurry off to harass their sister and thought, This will be my life, my fate. All her actions subject to Grayson’s approval, the concerns of his family her concerns. She turned to the statue of Cupid, picturing the stormy days ahead. There was no help for it once that winged-tip arrow struck home, and all she could hope was that one day Chloe would find the love she desperately sought and that he would love her in return.

Grayson and Jane announced their engagement at the end of the bridal ball held in the oval salon that same night. Lord Belshire was so relieved that he led a toast and celebrated by drinking an entire bottle of champagne. In the peculiar standards of Society, the betrothal instantly canceled out all the scandals of the previous weeks. The roguish implications of Grayson’s conduct suddenly took on the rosy glow of a romantic courtship. It was quite the thing to pretend one approved of the couple’s antics.

“The rogue must have planned this all along,” whispered a dowager to her niece. “Go and talk to Heath, darling. He’ll be looking for a bride next.”

“Don’t they make a perfect match?” cooed the same people who had predicted disaster only a few days ago.

“So it’s to be a Boscastle-Welsham connection, after all.”

“Except that Jane’s traded in an ordinary baronet for a marquess.”