Page 64 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

She stopped at the potting shed, glancing up at the house just to see a bedroom curtain fall quietly into place.

“The spying network has spotted us,” she said with a grim smile.

“Who is it this time?” he asked in a stage whisper. “Caroline or Miranda?”

“I think it was both. In fact, I think Caroline had a spying glass in her hand.”

He studied her with a slow smile. “Shall we give them something to worry about?”

“Oh, Sedgecroft, what a scapegrace you are. What are we going to do? We shall have to stop this silliness before the ton demands to know our ‘wedding’ date.”

“Are you breaking off our engagement, Jane?”

“Would you be serious for a moment?”

He glanced up, distracted by the distinctive creak of a window opening. His face dark with amusement, he grasped Jane’s hand and led her around the potting shed. “Now they can’t see us at all, which should really alarm them. So, what will it be tonight, a soirée or a private supper for two?”

Jane resisted the temptation to melt against his hard torso. “Did it ever occur to you that normal people simply stay home at times to read . . . or rest?”

“There’s no rest unto the wicked, my dear, or so the Bible says.”

“As if you had ever read it.”

“Oh, I did.” His blue eyes danced at the memory. “With a governess who was practically my own age holding a rod to my backside. I’ve had some difficulty studying Scripture since then though. Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to that woman and whom she’s torturing now.”

Jane forced a smile to hide her reaction. She could believe what a handful he had been as a boy. But heaven help her! By governess he could only mean Esther Chasteberry, or Lady Boscastle, as she would now be called, mother to another generation of misbehaved Boscastle schoolboys. The Governess of the Iron Glove. It set off all of Jane’s anxieties to discover he remembered the woman so well. He certainly wouldn’t be joking if he knew Esther had married his missing cousin.

“I don’t know what to say. You probably deserved whatever punishment she dealt. I—”

She blinked as he caught her chin in his hand and gave her a quick hard kiss. In an instant a dangerous surge of warmth flooded her senses, then disappeared as he drew away, leaving her feeling a little unbalanced and annoyed. “That will have to hold you for a few hours,” he said with regret. “The gardeners are coming.”

“Hold me for a few hours. Honestly, Sedgecroft, as if a woman cannot live and breathe between your kisses. That is arrogance.”

He laughed, casually steering her off the path to avoid the wheelbarrow being pushed their way. “I’ve been told that more than once,” he said, and kept his hand on her shoulder. “Anyway, it’s just insurance to make sure you don’t fall into the clutches of any brooding young barons who fancy you.”

“I feel sorry for him,” Jane replied. “You shouldn’t make fun.”

“A male on the prowl can use such sympathy to his own advantage.” His voice was cynical.

“Spoken as one who knows all the tricks of his trade.”

“But you can do better than Brentford, Jane. We have only begun our quest.”

“Has your heart ever been broken?” she asked him softly.

He took a step away from her, drawing his hand to his side. Caroline and Miranda had just appeared in the garden, making an embarrassing show of pretending to admire the hollyhocks.

“Only once. Horrible feeling.” He grimaced, escap-ing in the direction of the garden gate. “We’ll have a good time tonight. Bring your Bible or a rod. Whatever pleases you.”

Chapter 16

Her Bible or a rod.

Jane felt a glacial chill go through her as his tall frame disappeared from sight. She was going to need all the prayers in her Bible and a rod for self-protection when Grayson found out the fate of his iron-gloved governess. And what part Jane and Nigel had played in her life. How long could she maintain this charade before she broke down? How long would it take him to realize that she had been deceiving him?

She folded her arms across her chest as her two sisters crept up behind her. “What happened?” Caroline demanded, one eye on the garden gate.

“We hurried outside as fast as we could when we saw you,” Miranda said, pausing to take a breath. “We would have been faster, but Caroline couldn’t find one of her shoes.”