The Seduction of an English Scoundrel by Jillian Hunter Page A

compliment.”
    She smiled reluctantly. “I suppose in your own way, you’re only trying to help.”
    â€œThat’s right.” As unbelievable as he himself found the notion. “Now do as I ask. I shall set the rascals straight on your status.”
    â€œA rake with a conscience,” she went on in a thoughtful voice. “A rake with a streak of kindness running through his rotten heart.”
    He gave a laugh. He was not comfortable with this role. “Well, don’t let it become common knowledge. I have a well-earned reputation for rottenness to resume once I have put your life back in order.”
    She folded her arms across her chest and sat back to examine him. “Seriously, Sedgecroft, haven’t you ever considered marriage yourself?”
    He gave her an exaggerated frown. “Seriously, Jane, no.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œWhy should I?” he asked mildly.
    â€œOne cannot remain a rogue forever. Not with your obligations.”
    â€œI can certainly try,” he retorted, although the same damning thought had haunted him lately. “In the olden days my male forebears had the good sense not to submit to wedlock until they were maimed within an inch of their lives on the battlefield, and good for nothing else.”
    â€œTheir wives must have been beside themselves with gratitude,” Jane said in a wry voice. “What an honor to care for an incapacitated Boscastle.”
    His grin was devilish. For a moment he was disconcerted by the realization that he was already revealing more about himself to Jane than he ever had to any of his mistresses or old friends. “The point, my impudent lady, was to breed another line of ill-behaved Boscastles when all other options for adventure were exhausted. My ancestors proved themselves quite capable of fulfilling this pleasant duty until their dying breaths.”
    â€œDid they indeed?” she asked faintly.
    â€œYes, Jane,” he said, enjoying her reaction. “And their wives never complained. They performed.”
    â€œPerformed?”
    â€œTheir wifely duties. Which—”
    â€œFurther explanation is not necessary.”
    He paused, wondering how far he dare go and why he liked provoking her so much. “Forgive me. I thought you might be curious.”
    She felt a telltale flush of pink warm her cheeks. The thought of breeding a Boscastle heir brought some unspeakably earthy images to her mind. How in the world had this conversation evolved?
    â€œMy brother is probably listening,” she whispered admonishingly.
    â€œIn all his corpselike attentiveness.”
    She wiggled around to give Simon a firm shaking. Grayson watched, grinning, as she virtually pummeled her brother back to life. She had a delightfully sharp bite under all that reserve.
    â€œWake up, you wastrel,” she said sternly. “Make yourself of use to the world.”
    Simon stirred, opening his bloodshot eyes to examine his surroundings in disbelief. “Sedgecroft. Jane. And all these flowers.” He levered up on one elbow. “Has someone died? Was it—God, has Nigel been found? Don’t tell me we’re on the way to his funeral.”
    Jane examined his rumpled clothing in chagrin as he blinked painfully against the daylight. “No one has died, Simon,” she said in a very precise voice. “You are here as my chaperone, as useless as you appear to be in that capacity.”
    He ran his hand through his tousled brown hair. “I wouldn’t talk about appearances. That dress is rather revealing for—” The warning look Sedgecroft gave him stopped him cold. “
Has
anyone heard from Nigel?”
    â€œNot a word,” Grayson replied, his jaw hardening at the reminder. “I’m still making inquiries, of course, but it appears he’s left London without a trace.”
    Simon released a sigh. “Where are we going anyway?”
    â€œTo the Duke of