Page 76 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

Tell him everything. Tell him the entire truth.

He does not matter anymore. . . .

She shook her head. “What appointment? I told you I was supposed to meet Cecily—”

“Your carriage is waiting, my lord,” the footman said from the door.

“Thank you,” Grayson murmured. “Bring Lady Jane a light cloak and meet us outside.”

A few moments later Jane found herself suddenly ushered rather ungently into the hall and out the front door. “Grayson, kindly explain what you are doing.”

“Get in the carriage, Jane. I will explain in due time.” But he remained infuriatingly silent as the vehicle set off through the busy thoroughfares toward the shopping district of Bond Street. She was afraid to speculate on his intentions, or what this brooding mood of his meant. Clearly he had something on his mind. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her at all.

She knew it did.

“At least tell me where we are going.”

His gaze traveled over her briefly, bringing a blush of heat to her face. “To the modiste Madame Devine.”

“Devine—but she is the dressmaker for the demimonde, for Cyprians and dancers.”

He closed his eyes, his relaxed pose not deceiving her at all. “Her gowns are exquisite.”

Jane frowned. “I know. Cecily’s fiancé requested a few scandalous pieces for her trousseau, which reminds me. I should at least inform her we aren’t meeting today.”

The carriage passed an art gallery and pulled up before a fashionable Georgian-style brown brick shop, where a pair of footmen waited to escort customers inside the tiny candlelit interior. The small crowd of shoppers on the pavement watched them in curious silence. Wherever he went, Sedgecroft was certain to spark interest.

“Cecily will not be missing you,” Grayson said as he guided her past the front counter toward a concealed side staircase. “I took the liberty of notifying her you would be unavailable. Today and in the near future.”

“You did what?” She was certain she had misunderstood what he’d said.

He pulled her up the stairs. “Cecily’s friend, this Armhurst character, is not a suitable companion for you. And, Jane, I meant to ask you something last night,” he added as if it were an afterthought. “I suppose this is as private a place as any.”

Her temples began to throb. What was wrong? Something. Something different. Her family had deserted her, leaving her with this outrageous rogue, who might on the surface act like his usual arrogant self, but there was a change, and she still had to tell him—

“Ask me what?” she whispered, aware of movement in the hall above them.

“To be my mistress.” He glanced around in anticipation. “Ah, there is Madame Devine now. I have requested our own private fitting room.”

Her throat went dry, and her ability to think faltered for several moments. His mistress. The two words chilled her. This time there was no misunderstanding what he’d said. So this was what he had been leading up to all along. How stupid, how blind she had been to believe his pretense of kindness and responsibility. While she was falling in love with him, he had been planning the whole time to do what he did so well.

The ultimate seduction.

Well, had he ever claimed to be a saint?

She had blithely followed the same path as his other women. Step by step. No one had forced her.

He smiled down at her, obviously uncaring that he was breaking her heart with his indecent offer. “Darling, don’t look so surprised. It’s unlikely that a proper marriage proposal will ever come your way again. At least as my mistress your financial needs, as well as those of whatever children you give me, will be taken care of for life.”

“Children?” she said numbly.

He shrugged. “Mating as often as we will do, children are an inevitable part of a sexual relationship. I have always wanted a large family.”

“Have you?”

“A dozen or so of little Boscastle brats, the start of my own dynasty.”

“Far be it from me to stand in the way of your breeding ambitions.”