Page 61 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“I think the world is deceived by you, Jane.”

She hesitated, the sparkle in her eye fading. “How so?” she asked in a subdued voice.

“There is a vixen’s mind at work beneath all those ladylike airs. A true devil you are.”

“Oh, look who’s talking.”

He grinned, tightening his powerful thighs to urge the stallion toward her. “One devil recognizes another, I suppose. Shall we try to lose your brother?”

At her nod they took their horses onto the bridal path for a brief ride before Grayson slowed and suggested a walk. Several other couples waved at him, studying Jane covertly, as if unsure whether to pretend they knew about the wedding scandal or not.

She ignored their glances and stared fixedly at the water of the lake, embarrassed by all the attention. To think that the beau monde might assume the pair of them were destined for marriage. She and Grayson. Man and wife.

“I wonder if Simon is looking for us,” she said suddenly, more to divert her imagination from that provocative possibility than any concern over her errant sibling.

Grayson caught her by the hand as she dismounted, the press of his hard body against hers a pleasant shock. “You can let go of me now,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

“Why?” he murmured, his lips grazing her hair. “You feel divine, that riding habit fits you like a glove, and I fit against you even better. As to Simon,” he added, slowly releasing her, “he appears to be heading toward the Serpentine with a group of young ladies.”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t fall in,” Jane said. “He was wobbling on his horse like Humpty Dumpty the entire way here. I wish he would find a decent young woman to marry.”

They fell into step together, skirting nursemaids chasing after children and dogs, an elderly duke and his servants taking the air. Grayson noticed Baron Brentford’s appearance on Rotten Row; heads turned at the two spirited bays drawing the elegant phaeton along the track. Deliberately, Grayson guided Jane rather forcefully in the opposite direction. Brentford brought out a very aggressive streak of possessiveness in him.

“What are you doing?” she asked with an uneasy laugh.

“Protecting you from the ill wind about to blow our way. And back to the subject of Simon. Why is it you females always think marriage is the cure-all for our woes?”

“Marriage is the cornerstone of our civilization,” she said distractedly, peeking around Grayson’s shoulder.

He glanced back, his face darkening in anger when he saw the baron slow his well-sprung phaeton to look at her, making a show of bringing his bays under control. Hadn’t he made his point clear to Brentford at the ball?

“You are staring at him, Jane,” he said in a cool displeased voice.

She started. “I’m sorry. I was, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know. He was staring at me first. One is compelled to stare back.”

“Jane.” His smile was strained, his manner uncompromising. “One of us might be compelled to stop his staring once and for all.”

“Not here?” she said in horror, afraid he was rash enough to do exactly what he threatened.

“Why not?” he asked lightly. “Blood has been shed on these grounds before. I do, after all, come from a family that follows tradition.”

This time she captured his muscular forearm and dragged him to a peaceful patch of grass, abandoning the groom who had been trailing at a discreet distance. “A tradition apparently steeped in violence and the pursuit of pleasure. Instead of picking on Brentford, why don’t you do a good deed and introduce my brother to some sweet young lady who might exert some influence on his errant ways?”

He was rather amused at her efforts to shepherd him; not that she would influence his mind one way or another, of course. If the baron became a serious problem, Grayson would deal with him, not in a public place, but he would deal with him nonetheless.

“I sense another talk coming on the virtues of holy matrimony.” He collapsed on the grass and closed his eyes, releasing a loud theatrical snore. “Am I dead yet?”

“Get up, Sedgecroft. The papers are already full of gossip about us.”

He opened one eye. “Ah, more gossip. What have we been doing now?”

She folded her arms and glared down at him. “We’re getting married next month.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” he said mischievously. “I thought you approved of marriage.”