A Rake’s Guide to Seduction (20 page)

He came back across the room to her side. “Good night, my lady,” he said softly.

“Must you go?” She reached for him again.

“Yes, you know I must.” He pulled the coverlet over her, smoothing it around her shoulders. His eyes crinkled again as he grinned at her. “Sleep well. Until tomorrow.” He kissed her forehead and left.

Celia curled her arms around herself. He used a sheath to spare any children of his the pain of being bastards. And to spare her the shame of having a child out of marriage. He might be a hedonist, as people said, but he certainly wasn’t reckless or selfish in his pleasures.

She snuggled into her coverlet. Her pulse seemed to echo between her legs, strong and steady and blissfully sated. It would be very easy to get used to being worshipped by Anthony.

The next morning the Hillenbys left for London. Mary said goodbye in a subdued, almost fearful tone, often glancing at her husband. Celia decided
she
must be the reason Lord Hillenby wanted to return to town early, from the cold look he gave her as he said farewell. Mary walked out to the carriage behind him, her shoulders stiff despite the rain drumming down on her. She didn’t look back as the carriage drove off, even though Celia watched them to the gates.

That could have been her life, Celia realized. Not because she would have been married to an old man like Hillenby, but because she and Bertie had already fallen into a similar life of silence and resentments. She just hadn’t been afraid of him, as Mary clearly was of Hillenby.

She went back into the house and found Louisa in the drawing room. Elton, a round, soft pudding of a man, always slept late. Louisa was normally glad of this, but today she seemed out of sorts. It gave them little to talk about, as Celia was still preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night. And Jane came down late, which seemed to vex Louisa most of all.

“There you are,” exclaimed Louisa when she finally appeared. Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t you look pleased!”

Jane drifted into the room, a contented smile on her face. “Good morning,” she said graciously, dropping into a chair next to Celia. “What a splendid day.”

Two thin lines appeared between Louisa’s brows as she glanced at the rain drizzling down the windows. “Why is that, Jane?”

Jane gave Celia another wide, almost silly grin. “It could only be a splendid day, after such a night.”

“What about your night?” Louisa was in a peevish mood today, thought Celia. She felt much more in charity with Jane, whose expression mirrored her own mood.

“Mmm. Percy.” A tinge of color rose in Jane’s cheeks, and suddenly Celia knew exactly what Jane had done last night. She resisted the urge to feel her own cheeks as her blood warmed again.

“That’s all you can say?” Louisa scowled at her. “What about Percy? Did he come and talk to you of horses?”

Jane laughed, the full, rich laugh of a well-satisfied woman. “Not one word of horses! Oh, good heavens, no. At first I was quite astonished to see him; he nearly followed me up to bed, which is out of the ordinary. And especially in such company! He’s more likely to sit up late and play at cards or billiards than come to bed early. But last night…” She sighed, her eyes drifting closed. “He asked me if I were happy, and if he could make me happier—as his wife. I was so surprised I scarcely knew what to say at first.”

Louisa’s face had been growing stonier and stonier. “What did you tell him?”

Jane blushed again and lowered her voice. “I said I wanted a child. We have been married almost two years, and although Percy feels no urgency for an heir, I—I would like a child.”

This time Louisa just stared at her. Celia’s lips parted in surprise, and Jane gave her a hesitant nod.

“And he agreed.” Jane’s voice warmed, and her smile returned. “Oh, how he agreed. And after, we talked until late at night. Did you know, I never knew Percy liked a well-played violin? I never thought he had musical opinions at all.”

“And what brought this on?” Louisa recovered her voice to ask.

Jane glanced around, then leaned forward. “That was the most astonishing thing,” she confided. “When I asked what made him so attentive, he apologized for not being so earlier—Percy, apologize!—and then he said he had had an enlightening conversation with Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton, of all people! I asked what he meant and he said it was Mr. Hamilton who put it in his head that he ought to pay attention to me!” Her eyes glowed, and Jane actually giggled. “Well, it was astonishing, but I must say, Percy ought to spend more time with Mr. Hamilton, if this is the result.”

“It is incredible,” said Louisa after a moment.

But Celia didn’t think so. She wondered if Anthony had meant to send Mr. Percy into Jane’s arms, or if he had just spoken sense to Mr. Percy, but she rather thought he would be quite pleased to see Jane’s happy glow this morning.

“And this morning, Percy composed a verse to me as I was dressing.” Jane giggled again, drawing her fingertips along her collarbone. “It was dreadful, of course, but so dreadful it was amusing. I couldn’t help but laugh and laugh, and then it took ever so long to get dressed.”

“What a dreadful pity Elton won’t speak to the man,” Louisa lamented, beginning to look peeved again. “How convenient it would be if my own husband could be persuaded to care for my happiness and satisfaction.”

“Oh, yes,” said Jane on a sigh. “Much more convenient than dancing around a lover, trying to be discreet, and of course the uproar if you can’t manage it. My father-in-law is such a martinet, I would be pilloried for that sort of scandal. And I wouldn’t mind in the least if Percy and I were to become one of those disgustingly devoted couples. After this visit, seeing His Grace and Her Grace together, and Lord David and his wife…well, it looks rather pleasant.”

Yes, Celia thought warmly. It did. She remembered again Hannah’s face yesterday:
I would have missed Marcus most of all
….

“But who would have thought such a thing of Mr. Hamilton?” Louisa asked. “Certainly not I. Are you sure he didn’t give Percy the idea that perhaps he meant to seduce you, and that spurred Percy?”

“No,” said Celia before Jane could answer. “Of course not.” Louisa looked at her in surprise. “He would never do that,” Celia repeated.

Louisa cleared her throat delicately. “Er—no. Perhaps not.”

“Oh, do stop,” Jane told her, unperturbed. “Percy’s not precisely the jealous sort. He did not specifically say, but I believe Mr. Hamilton’s words were more in the nature of advice. And I for one should like to thank him for it. He can give Percy all the advice he likes in this vein.”

It wasn’t until after luncheon that Celia had an opportunity to speak to Anthony. Someone proposed going boating once the morning rain had been driven away by sunshine, and so a small party walked to the lake. Celia contrived to end up alone in a boat with Anthony, even sending her brother David a fierce look when he seemed about to approach and join them. It wasn’t quite private, but they could talk without fear of impropriety.

“You have made Mrs. Percy very happy,” she told him as he rowed them out.

“Have I?” He cocked his head curiously, pulling on the oars.

Celia grinned. “She barely made it downstairs before luncheon.”

His eyebrows went up. “I had no idea.”

“Hmm.” Celia twirled her parasol. “And yet you are to thank, according to her.”

Anthony gave her another quizzical look as he removed his hat and jacket. The sun was bright and hot in the middle of the lake, despite the cool breeze. The other men had already removed their jackets. “I don’t believe I’ve spoken to Mrs. Percy in several days.”

“Oh, but you spoke to her husband, and that made all the difference.”

Comprehension dawned in his face. “Ah,” he murmured with a slight smile. “Then I am delighted to have been of some small service to her.”

“What did you tell her husband, I wonder?”

He squinted across the water at the other boaters, rowing them farther out. “How to win at the races.”

Celia dipped her fingers in the lake and flipped water at him. Anthony laughed, flicking the end of an oar and sending a light spray of water back at her. “What did you really tell him?” she demanded, laughing.

“How to please a woman.” He gave her a speaking look, flexing his arms as he rowed.

Celia pretended to take affront and tried to ignore the healthy display of masculinity in front of her. “And I suppose just because everyone considers you such an expert—”

“Everyone? Really, I had no idea my fame was that widespread.”

“—you think you know all there is to it—”

“I am always ready to learn more, madame.”

“You’re such a scoundrel!” she exclaimed. He just gave her a sinful smile in reply, until Celia blushed. “So what is the secret, then? What did you tell Mr. Percy?”

Anthony shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. Start by rubbing her feet—” He broke off, laughing, at Celia’s horrified exclamation as she looked wildly around to see if any of the other boats were near enough for the occupants to overhear. “Of course not. I didn’t know that would please you. You might have turned me out on my ear, scandalized at the very suggestion of someone fondling your naked ankles.”

“You manage to make it sound even more wicked than it was.” Satisfied no one could hear him, she settled back into her seat.

Anthony dug in the oars again, sending the boat across the lake with a lurch. “Ought it to have been more wicked? You must tell me these things.”

“You aren’t answering my question, so I shan’t answer yours. What did you tell Mr. Percy?”

Anthony rowed in silence for a few minutes. At this rate, he would take them all the way across the lake. “I told him to pay attention to his wife,” he said finally. “To talk to her. To listen to her. I told him that a happy wife is a faithful wife. What Percy did after we spoke, I cannot say. I did not mean to advise him on his marriage.”

“How do you know so much about marriage and wives?” Celia leaned forward, studying him.

His mouth twisted. “I’ve seen a lot of bad marriages, and even more unhappy wives.”

“Then what makes a marriage happy?”

Again he hesitated a long time. “I know an unhappy marriage is one where there is little affection or respect between the parties,” he said. “A companionable warmth, even, will make each person care more for the other’s happiness, and therefore do less to ruin that happiness. An unhappy wife will do things a woman who is even moderately contented would never do.”

“And what makes a wife happy?”

He looked at her, then grinned. She realized she had been holding her breath for his answer. “I am still hoping to learn, when I have a wife of my own.”

Celia licked her lips, feeling very daring. “And what would you do, if you had a wife?”

He leaned forward under pretense of rowing, bringing his face very near hers. “Right now, at this moment?”

She nodded.

“In this boat, on this lake…with my wife?” he asked.

Celia nodded. He leaned back on the oars, looking thoughtful, then leaned close again as he brought the oars forward for another stroke. “I think…” His golden gaze wandered over her face. A sensual smile curved his mouth. “Ah, what a question you pose, my dear.”

“And you have no answer?”

“Oh, I have an answer,” he replied softly. “Many answers. I was merely savoring the prospect of my answers.”

“Now you must tell me.”

Anthony grinned again, leaning back on a stroke of the oars. “I should prefer it a bit darker.” He rowed again. “As dark as night, in fact. Yes, that would be best. A night with no moon, but a warm breeze.”

“Night?”

Anthony made a low noise of assent. “Late at night, when all others have long since retired to their beds. But we—my wife and I,” he clarified with a gleaming look. “We would steal out of the house together and row out on the lake until it was just the two of us, alone. Just like this.” He leaned toward her again and his voice dropped. “Then I’d put up the oars, and we would lie down in the bottom of the boat…”

“And?”

That wicked smile returned. “And count the stars.” He pulled back on the oars. “What else would one do out on a moonless night in a boat?”

“Wretch,” she said with a laugh. “You know I thought you were going to say make love!”

“Make love in a boat?” He made a scandalized face. “How obscene. How shocking. I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing.”

Celia blushed but laughed again. “Now you’re making sport of me.”

Anthony grinned. “Not at all. Never suggest such a thing. But perhaps you’ve been contemplating it,” he said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. “Is this a fancy you’ve taken lately, my lady? Far be it from me to refuse—”

“No!” she cried, feeling the blush extend over every inch of her skin. “Of course not!”

“Hmm.” He rowed again, watching her with a devilish smile. “How unfortunate.”

“I shan’t speak to you anymore,” she announced, turning in her seat and presenting him with her profile. Anthony grinned again and rowed some more, leisurely. They were quite alone on the water now. The others had not kept pace. He pushed aside the thought that it was not entirely proper. He was alone with Celia, at her instigation, and he was savoring every moment of it.

“Anthony,” Celia said after a while, “I have been thinking about something you said last night. I—I have been wondering what you meant.”

“What is that?” Unconsciously he tensed, wondering what the hell he had said that made her hesitant.

“You said you had come to persuade me.” She turned back toward him. “What did you mean?”

“Ah.” His shoulders eased. “To persuade you that I’m a decent fellow.”

She dismissed his light comment with a wave of her hand. “I’ve known that for years.” He glanced at her sharply, but she was already speaking again. “What did you really mean?”

Anthony rowed again, turning the boat in a wide, lazy circle. “That is what I meant. To persuade you that I won’t hurt you. That I don’t want to disappoint you. That you wouldn’t be throwing yourself away, if you were to decide…” Anthony let the sentence remain unfinished as she jerked her gaze away, her cheeks scarlet.
Oh, Lord,
he thought in sudden dismay.

“Why?” she asked, head bent. Her fingers were white around the handle of her parasol.

“Why?” he echoed stupidly.

“Why would you want to persuade me of that?” She lifted her eyes. “Why
me?”

He was so surprised by the question, he couldn’t reply. Why Celia?
Because it couldn’t be anyone else,
whispered a voice in his head. Because he cared what she thought of him, when he didn’t give a bloody damn what anyone else thought. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

She twisted the parasol handle between her hands. “The other night…in the library. I said nothing when my mother and David accused you of…of seducing me and ruining me. But you wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t told you to meet me there, and I don’t think you would have…” Her whole face was scarlet now but she plowed onward. “I don’t think you would have made love to me if I hadn’t thrown myself at you. And yet when everyone blamed you, you didn’t say a word.”