Page 33 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“They are compatible, believe me.”

“In your world, perhaps.”

“Are we that different, you and I?” he teased.

“Of course we are.”

“Well, far be it from me to corrupt you.”

“I don’t think you’re all that corrupt.”

He looked up suddenly, his eyes narrowing. Something had caught his attention behind her. “Don’t you?” he asked distractedly. “Does that mean there’s hope?”

She glanced around. She couldn’t tell at what or whom he’d been staring so intently. Another woman? “I wouldn’t bank on it.”

“I know how men think,” he said in a smug undertone, “especially those men.”

“Those men,” she whispered, trying to rescue another strawberry from over his free hand before he returned her plate to the table, “are of your class and background. They admire—they emulate you.”

He guided her off the walkway and down a cushioned slope of camomile. “Which is precisely why I know how they think. And why I was worried about you.”

“That does not say very much about your character.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” He laughed suddenly. It was good fun but rather a challenge to spar with her. “Perhaps I should have left you in the gray dress.”

“I tried to warn you.”

They walked in silence for a few moments. Jane could not say how his hand had managed to slide down the small of her back, where it rested, provocative and proprietary, the weight of his fingers sending warm tingles down her spine. She had no idea where they were going either. All she knew was that he seemed preoccupied and that she was enjoying herself more than she should.

“I thought you wanted to place me back into the social arena as soon as possible.”

“Yes. But not in the gladiator’s pit. And not by yourself. Did they ask you any personal questions?”

She halted in her tracks to face him. He was starting to sound like her parents. “As a matter of fact, they did.”

“Such as?” he demanded.

“Such as whether I cared for coffee or chocolate.”

His eyes danced in amusement. “What was your answer?”

“I said neither.”

“A woman of mystery.” He feigned a disappointing sigh. “Those rascals will take that as an invitation to intimacy.”

“I told them I liked tea,” she said tartly. “I do not see how that can possibly be interpreted as an invitation to anything, let alone to an intimate act.”

“To a male on the prowl, the mere hint of a smile on a woman’s lips is enough to encourage him. Trust me,” he said with authority. “The fact is fixed as firmly as any scientific principle.”

“My lips were engaged in eating, Sedgecroft, until you confiscated that plate from under my nose. I happen to be hungry.”

He chuckled, claiming her arm again to lead her farther down the slope. “Did anyone ever tell you that your honesty will land you in trouble someday?”

Her stomach rumbled as she glanced back longingly at the breakfast tables. “Only my mother, at least a dozen times a week for my entire life. Where are we going now? People are talking about us.”

“I’m sure you’ve made a favorable impression, Jane.”

“I’m not. I told you this was too soon to make an appearance. Nigel and I never caused this kind of scene in public.”