Page 88 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

She rose from her chair. At this point a coward’s retreat seemed her best option. “I think I should leave the two of you alone to discuss this.”

Grayson frowned at her. “Don’t feel you must leave, sweetheart. You have a perfect right to know exactly how I plan to avenge your honor.”

“Quite frankly,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I would prefer to pretend the whole affair never happened.”

I’m sure you would, Grayson thought wryly as he glanced down at the knife in his hand. But, don’t worry, my darling, I promise you the happy ending you deserve. We both owe Nigel a debt of gratitude for bringing us together. The tale of our romance shall entertain our descendants for years to come.

“Would you like Nigel to make a public apology to you before the duel?” he asked, his expression solicitous.

She paled at the thought. “That will not be necessary. Grayson, you must understand that I do not care whether he is married. He could have seven wives for all it mattered to me.”

He shook his head in dismissal. “Women are far too forgiving. Besides, he is a Boscastle, and I have taken it upon myself to be your protector. What would people think of me if I failed to make a stand? What would my father think if he knew I had let my own family down?”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Heath, please try to talk some sense into your brother. I am apparently unable to dissuade him from this course of male idiocy.”

Heath lowered his gaze, seeming quite at sea himself. “I shall do my best, but my brother rarely takes advice.”

She cast a dark look at Grayson as she stepped around her chair. “Yes, I know. But try anyway. I am going back up to my room.”

Grayson caught her hand before she took another step. “We’ve been invited to Plumpton for the races tomorrow, if you are up to it. And there’s a puppet show on the promenade this afternoon. I thought we might watch it before the ball tonight.” He smiled up into her eyes, his voice deliberately provocative. “Unless you would rather stay home alone with me again. That thought appeals to me, Jane.”

To Jane’s horror she felt his large hand sliding around her backside, and instead of resisting the outrageous wretch, she caught herself leaning into him, eager to be held against that warm hard body. While his brother watched in utter, fascinated silence. “Stop it right now,” she said firmly.

“Kiss me before you go.”

“Take your hand off my bum, you silly beast,” she whispered, twisting at the waist.

His hand caressed the curve of her bottom. “Not until you kiss me.”

“Your brother is watching.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Grayson, you are—”

“A kiss,” he demanded. “Heath, turn your head.”

She bent to brush her mouth primly across his freshly shaven cheek. A second later she found herself sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her with a flagrant sensuality that left him breathing as unevenly as she. His eyes glittered with raw desire when he finally, reluctantly, set her back on her feet.

She marched toward the door. The flare of passion between Grayson and her had charged the room like the stillness before a thunderstorm. The imprint of his powerful body seeped deep into her bones. She could not bring herself to glance back at Heath as she hurried into the hall, but if she had stayed she might have intercepted the meaningful look that passed between the two men. She might have seen the love and hunger for her that Grayson tried so hard to hide.

“Whew,” Heath said, pressing the heels of his hands against the table, “after that little display, I am feeling rather deprived myself. Congratulations. I understand everything now. One doesn’t need a fire in the room when you two are together.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet.” Grayson’s voice was husky as he exerted a conscious effort not to follow her from the room. The woman weakened him without even trying. “I haven’t gotten her to the altar yet. She might find a way to dispose of me.”

Heath stared at him in disbelief for several seconds before throwing back his head to laugh. Grayson, worried he would lose the woman he desired? Grayson, insecure in the role of seducer? His eyes shone with appreciation. “A first in the Boscastle family history—one of our men plotting to capture a bride.”

“Your legendary memory is failing, Heath,” Grayson said dryly. “Our predecessors kidnapped their brides as a matter of course. And don’t forget the shame of our recent history—Nigel himself went to quite desperate measures indeed to marry his heart’s desire.”

Heath grinned in delight at the reminder of their boisterous past. “But we never really considered him one of us, did we? As I recall he failed our rite of initiation in the castle when he turned thirteen.”

“That’s right.” Grayson broke into a grin. “I’d forgotten that one myself. Do you remember his face when our milkmaid began to disrobe in front of him?”

“And then he was rescued by—”

“The Iron Glove.” Heath looked stunned. “Oh, my God. That must have been the start of their infamous love affair. Esther rescued him from our corruption only to corrupt him years later herself.”

“Did she actually beat us with a rod or her bare hands?”