Page 78 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“I do not believe you. My father would die of shame if he thought I—”

“Your family is dying of shame, darling. One must face facts. Your marriageable days are over.”

“They are not.”

“They most certainly are,” he insisted. “No one is marrying my mistress.”

“I will not agree.”

“Of course you will.” He gave her a knowing look. “Remember last night? I carried you halfway to heaven already. A person in your position must be practical. This is the most sensible solution to your dilemma.”

She took another burning swallow of the sherry, tempted to hit him over the head with the whole bottle. Coughing, she sputtered, “I don’t want to be a kept woman.”

He reacted with an indulgent smile. “What do you want?”

“I want . . . well, I suppose I want love.”

“Love?” He tsked in amusement. “Ask me for a chest of diamonds. Or a palatial manor. A shipload of silk.”

“You needn’t make it sound like an obscenity.” She came to her feet, the potent sherry, his offer, making her feel light-headed. “Some people do fall in love, Grayson.”

“Do they?” He stood to tower over her, his eyes sparkling. “Ah, I had forgotten how deeply you loved Nigel. I trust your attachment to him will dwindle over time.”

She took an involuntary step back. “I told you last night that I never loved him.”

“Then that leaves room for me in your affection, doesn’t it?” he asked without hesitating.

She stared at him, her stomach clenching at the cool mockery in his voice. “I feel unwell all of a sudden. Would you please take me home?”

His blue eyes reminded her of storm clouds, darkness brewing in their depths. “Of course, Jane. Pleasing and protecting you are part of our bargain.”

Heath raised his brow when Grayson recounted the details of his day in the privacy of his study. “All in all, I’d say it went rather well.”

“I cannot believe you took her to Devine’s. In broad daylight. What of her reputation?”

Grayson stared at him, shrugging off a faint sense of guilt. “What of it? It was my original goal to protect Jane from the damage Nigel’s fictitious desertion had done. But she did not care a fig about her name when she constructed her scheme.”

“But the ton—”

“I have never cared what the ton thought,” Grayson interjected. “Anyway, all’s well that ends well. Once we are married, the gossip will stop. It’s amazing how holy wedlock can restore honor.”

Heath managed a grim smile. “Did it ever occur to you that something might go amiss with this line of reasoning?”

Grayson glanced through the stack of letters on his desk, dismissing his brother’s warning. “I have a legal contract with her father’s signature to marry her. Will Jane be angry? Perhaps. But in the end she will realize that she has no choice. I do believe she loves me.”

Heath gave a worried sigh. “Well, I certainly hope you know what you’re doing. And that nothing goes wrong in this game.”

“It won’t.” Grayson looked up, meeting his brother’s concerned look. “As you said, it is a game, and I will not take it too far. A few days at the most. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Tell him I’ve taken desperately ill,” Jane whispered in her bedroom to Simon three hours later. “Tell him I have a raging fever. The plague. Malaria. Cholera. Smallpox.”

Simon felt her forehead in concern. “I did tell him. He sent Weed to his physician for advice. He’s been waiting here all evening.”

“All evening?” A note of panic crept into her voice. “Grayson has been in our house that long?”

“He was playing billiards with Uncle Giles. The man is determined to have you.” He hesitated, looking completely at a loss. “What have you done, Jane? I know you’re in dire trouble somehow.”

She covered her face in her hands. “Don’t ask me. I can’t tell you. I cannot explain. It’s such a hideous mess, and I caused it all myself.”