Page 80 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“Good for you,” Simon said; he was obviously of the mind that peace should be had at any price. “She never listens to my advice.”

Jane sat up slowly, her gaze locked with Grayson’s. “Are you going to force me?”

His lips curled into a thin smile. “If it comes to that. I have promised your father that I would protect you in his place. I would be remiss in my duty if I did not take this illness of yours seriously.”

“I suddenly feel much better,” she said with enforced heartiness.

He shook his head. “The strain of what you have suffered recently has finally come home, Jane. Perhaps it is not good to stay in London.”

“Do you suggest I go into hiding?”

“We cannot have you languishing in bed to grow plump, my little pigeon.”

“I do not want to go,” she said, biting off each word.

“You need a holiday, Jane. I shall push you along the promenade in a bath chair with all the other hypochondriacs.”

“Talk about a tempting offer.”

“A donkey ride then.”

“I know who the donkey will be.”

He smiled. “You might enjoy a scrubbing down with the local seaweed.”

“I might enjoy strangling you with it.”

“I shall have a maid help you pack,” Grayson said in a quiet voice, his stare challenging.

She stared back at him and wondered whether the first woman who had fallen victim to the Boscastle Blues felt as she did now. For while she was in shock over what he had proposed, in her heart of hearts she wished to go wherever the gorgeous devil beckoned. She wanted to be in his arms, to give herself to him, to be the woman he desired. Foolishly she had fallen in love with the illusion of a protector.

“Your offer is more then generous, Grayson,” she said in one last attempt to resist him. “But I can hardly go off on a holiday with you alone.”

He raised his heavy eyebrows in surprise. “Of course not. Uncle Giles and Simon will be there for the sake of decency.”

There was a pause, his diabolical smile informing her that decency was the last thing on his mind.

So, everything had changed between them. He had planned this down to the last disgraceful detail. A calculated coolness had come over him, a detachment that signaled danger. Yes, he was as charming and attentive as ever, but beneath those virtues he displayed the cunning of a . . . a jungle animal waiting for just the right moment to attack.

Had she imagined all that gentleness, the good-natured instincts that made him so irresistible to a woman? Or was her own guilty conscience muddling her ability to see? Never in her wildest imaginings had Jane envisioned herself the mistress of a rogue. Her life had taken an appalling detour off the road of decency, and it would be a dark, hard journey back. Perhaps an impossible one. Perhaps she would even enjoy it.

“Really,” she said, with more courage this time, “it isn’t possible, or proper. A woman alone with three men, even if two of them are her family.”

His smile patronized her, made her suspect he’d moved two steps ahead in their game. “Jane, you know me better than that. Naturally I have asked Chloe to accompany us.”

“And she agreed?”

“Yes,” he said.

But, he thought cynically, only after two hours of threatening and tears, followed by Chloe concluding that her presence at Brighton might be the only consolation in Jane’s devastating fate: a Boscastle seduction. Not that Chloe or anyone else would interfere in the lesson he intended to teach his darling deceiver. Grayson was merely setting the stage with the appropriate props. Oh, how he was looking forward to this holiday.

“Of course Chloe agreed,” he said. “She will come to enjoy your company as I do.” He turned back to the door, the matter clearly settled in his mind. “It works out quite well, really,” he added offhandedly. “This way I can keep my eye on both of you.”

“You mean keep us both under your thumb, don’t you?” Jane called out to his retreating figure.

Chapter 19

Spending an entire day trapped inside a traveling coach with Grayson, Simon, Uncle Giles, and Chloe did not resemble Jane’s idea of a relaxing experience. The men talked of steeplechasing and parliamentary reform. Chloe refused to talk to or even look at her brother, using Jane as a medium of communication as the well-sprung vehicle lumbered along the coast road.