Page 32 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

And then he let her go. Releasing her breath, she turned quickly to lose herself in the crowd.

Grayson watched her pensively, half aware that he himself was being watched by the other woman beside him. Acting the part of a smitten suitor was easier than he’d expected. Just being in Jane’s presence made him ache for unbridled sex and reminded him he had not had a lover for longer than he cared to admit.

Perhaps her inaccessibility was what challenged him. He suspected there was more. She was intelligent, practical, his equal in conversation. She amused him with her prim dignity, and he was positive there were depths to her she had never dared reveal to anyone. He might have enjoyed plumbing those depths had his task not been to smoothly reinsert her back into Society.

His sultry gaze followed the movements of her body, her awkward dash to escape across the lawn. The fact that she strode like a soldier in no way detracted from the sway of her nicely rounded bottom beneath her pink gauze dress. Pink, he thought, his body hardening in a swelter of arousal. She’d be pink and white all over. Roses and cream. Sweet enough to enjoy in one bite. But he wouldn’t devour her all at once. He would savor her in slow, tender nibbles. . . .

Dear heaven. She had his thoughts chasing one another in circles. His intention was to return her to respectability, not ruin her.

“Is it possible, Sedgecroft?” Audrey inquired softly. “Are you behind that wedding scandal yesterday?”

He hesitated, his lean face amused. This was a critical moment, a test of his ability to dissemble. Audrey had known him for a long time. He didn’t want to lie to her, but chances were that anything he told her today would be broadcast all over London by tonight. “You know better than to ask me that. Would I admit it if I were?”

“This is very unusual behavior. I believe I am concerned. Do you know that the gossips are calling her Lady Jane Jilt?”

He felt a surge of anger. “Not to my face, they’re not.”

“It is the first time I have ever seen you with a decent female,” she said quietly, following his lead as he merged back into the flow of traffic. “Beware, Sedgecroft.”

“Beware of what?” he asked with a negligent shrug, his gaze leaving her to return again to Jane. “I am an honorable man. Have you ever known a woman to regret a friendship with me?”

She put her hand on his wrist. “It is you I worry about. That heart of yours may not easily be captured, but once it is, I suspect the loss might be fatal. Despite what happened to her yesterday, she is a woman made for marriage.”

“That accursed word again. Yes, I know she is made for marriage.” He frowned, noticing that quite a few of his acquaintances had crowded around the breakfast table to introduce themselves to Jane. Little boys, he thought in contempt. They’re practically licking their chops. He couldn’t see her expression, what she made of it. But was she actually going to eat while they all stood there drooling over her? “Look, we’ll have to continue this lovely conversation later. The wolves are gathering, and she is in no state to defend herself.”

Audrey turned to see what he was talking about. “This possessive side of you is fascinating. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen it before. It doesn’t mean—”

He brushed around her in annoyance. Hadn’t he promised to protect Jane? “It isn’t what you’re thinking.”

Audrey stared after his broad-shouldered body as he broke through the line of his male friends with his usual Boscastle arrogance. Her heart gave an unsettling flutter even though she had long ago resigned herself to a platonic association with the intriguing marquess. “It might not be what you’re thinking either, darling,” she said wistfully.

Several tables had been set up on the southwest lawn, draped with damask tablecloths that held silver chafing dishes, jugs of lemonade, and pots of coffee, tea, and chocolate. One of Sedgecroft’s friends had brought Jane a plate of strawberries and sugared almonds.

She had just popped a strawberry into her mouth when she saw him cutting like a sword through the cluster of guests. Her tongue curled around the tart berry. She was conscious of the other women around her interrupting their conversations to stare. And no wonder. His masculine vitality cast a spell too potent to ignore. Who would not be swept away in his whirlwind of staggering appeal? He was a breath of fresh air to challenge the stale strictures of Society.

His male friends clapped him on the back and cast meaningful glances from him to Jane, as if awaiting a formal introduction. Which he refused to give for reasons she could not fathom. She already knew several of the young men through her brother. Sedgecroft actually looked angry at them. And at her. What an actor. What a nuisance.

“There you are,” he announced across the table in a loud possessive voice that could not help but draw attention. “I have been looking for you everywhere. Do not leave me alone again.”

Jane felt people staring at her, conversation arrested. Her voice caught at the back of her throat as she swallowed the strawberry whole. Color climbed into her cheeks. She wasn’t as polished at this as Sedgecroft. Her natural impulse was to hide under the table. “Well, I was right here.” Which of course he had known. “With your friends.”

“Friends? My friends?” He cast a dismissive glare at the four men standing behind her. The quartet immediately began to drift away, warned by Grayson’s tone of voice that they had trespassed on private territory.

“Well, who would have guessed?” one of them murmured. “Nigel’s jilt and Sedgecroft?”

“Perhaps she wasn’t a jilt, after all. Perhaps Nigel was given no choice in the matter.”

The four men stopped and stared back at the table, sharing the same covetous thoughts. Was the Earl of Belshire’s beautiful daughter about to be set up as a mistress? Who would have guessed she would be available for such a delicious arrangement? Or did the situation carry more serious implications? Was their idol about to be leg-shackled?

“That,” Jane said, pursing her lips as the rogue himself came up beside her, “was a rather unnecessary act of drama for this early in the day.”

“Convincing, wasn’t I?” He grinned sheepishly. “Forgive me, but I had a hunch you needed to be saved.”

“From eating breakfast?”

He took her elbow. “One does not accept attention from a gentleman without a certain indebtedness,” he said with mock severity. “Breakfast today, bed tomorrow.”

“Oh, honestly, Sedgecroft. Only a mind like yours could make such a connection. Breakfast . . . and bed sport.”