Hunting the Hero (14 page)

To tutor a virgin, a proper lady, in the intimate arts would be the challenge of her life. She would have to only convey the most useful information and give her confidence enough to carry it out later. She had less than a day to do all that, yet there was nothing she liked more than to teach what she knew. Meredith caught Arabella’s hand in hers and squeezed. Men would crumble under such a delicate touch. “What is learned, discovered, cannot be unlearned. You may never look at a gentleman the same way again. Are you sure you are prepared for that?”

“No. But I must.” Arabella shook her head. “I refuse to die a virgin. I saw how keenly Grayling regarded you. He did not want you to leave his home today. If I had not come back when I did I am sure he would have been rather more flustered. No gentleman has ever looked at me in such a fashion. I should like that at least once before I die. Can you teach me to be more like you, to capture a man’s interest?”

Meredith felt the stirrings of sympathy. A life without intimate relations was a barren life. Meredith tried not to remember that she had agreed to such a thing, even for a little while longer in Grayling’s company. She paced the room, stopping to occasionally admire the extensive wardrobe of fine dresses around them while she considered the chances of success. Too many of them were too prim for her taste, but the colors were lovely. “Does this fellow have a name? The one you hope to seduce.”

“He does, but I cannot speak it. In truth we’ve never spoken more than a few words, but I fear he will not be interested in a woman like me.” She scrunched her nose. “A bookish virgin. Never. He prefers women who frequent establishments such as the type you were living in recently and other women who have few morals.”

Meredith turned that over in her mind. “He wouldn’t happen to be the gentleman entering the House when you came to visit me a few days ago?”

Arabella nodded shyly.

“Lord Parker.” Meredith sighed. There were days when she knew far more than was good for her. Parker disliked inexperienced talkative women, but he
did
like to spank his bed partners until they couldn’t sit easily. He would not be the best choice for a virgin.
 

Meredith turned Arabella toward a mirror and began to unbutton her gown while she wondered how to warn her off that particular man. Given the lady’s willingness to court scandal for a friend, Meredith had to protect her from making a grave mistake. “Consider someone else. Please. He’s much more dangerous than he appears to be. Choose someone who will talk to you, too, and yet has the experience to make the tryst enjoyable. Surely there is another you know to be in London for the winter, or even the coming season. Even the most scandalous rake should have the skills to hold a conversation first. An unfeeling and selfish scoundrel is not for you. Parker thinks only of himself. You want… a man who can look at you and turn your legs to jelly. Do you know someone who fits that description?”

Arabella nodded so fast her ringlets jiggled. “But he’s considered rather a rake.”

Meredith laid the prim, expensive gown over a chair and worked on loosening the lady’s corset. “Is he intelligent?”

“Yes, he’s rather eloquent on the topics discussed in parliament. When he speaks, he draws a crowd and not just ladies come to listen.”

Meredith tossed the corset aside to cover her urge to laugh. Arabella sounded as smitten as any debutante. She hoped this fellow was as good as he sounded. “Is he handsome? Clean in his habits?”

“He’s rather devastating when he smiles. Many a lady has ruined their reputations to be with him. Sadly, he rarely smiles in my direction.”

Arabella could be describing Grayling’s unsmiling twin. Meredith shook herself. She’d done enough fantasizing about Grayling’s many charms to last a lifetime. “And you’d like this intelligent rake to look again?”

A dreamy smile flittered over Arabella’s face, but then she glanced down at her hands. She twisted a ring on her third finger. “I would, but I doubt my chances. Perhaps I should forget about it after all. What would such a man want with me?”

Meredith slipped her finger beneath Arabella’s chin and lifted her face to her reflection. “When I’m done, he won’t just be looking and smiling. With luck, you’ll have him eating from the palm of your hand and whimpering like a puppy for more of your attention.”

She caught Meredith’s hand and peered at the ring. A wedding ring. That had to go first. “There is nothing more off-putting to a man than a reminder of the one who came before. Trust me on this. Leave the ring behind when you go to London.”

“Are you sure?” Arabella worried at her lip as she tugged the simple gold band from her finger. She stared at it for a long time and then met Meredith’s gaze in the mirror. “I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I’m in search of a husband.”

“They say rakes make the best husbands.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a wife again.” Arabella shook her head violently. “I’d just like to discover what every other bride knows.”

The ringlets had to go, too. Too much like a debutante and too difficult for a man to take down in the heat of passion without ripping half her hair from her head. The one thing Meredith had discovered in her line of work was that the faster a woman could be divested of her embellishments, the better.
 

“And I don’t want to be a mistress. What a pair we make.” Meredith slid the fine chemise from the countess’s body and stood back. Not an ounce of undesirable flesh anywhere. Arabella had a body any woman would covet and any man would crave for his own. Whoever the gentleman was that Arabella had set her sights on would be a lucky man. When the countess moved to cover her breasts, Meredith stopped her. “You must grow accustomed to nudity before others. If you’re not, it will give away your inexperience. I assume you don’t plan to tell your intelligent rake of your untested state until after the deed is done?”

“I can hardly tell you, let alone consider telling him or any other man.”

Meredith nodded and circled the woman. “Probably for the best, but I should warn you that he might have enough experience to guess. Now, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but what exactly do you know of a man’s intimate proportions?”

A fiery wash of color swept over Arabella’s cheeks and Meredith chuckled softly at her obvious distress. “That little?”
 

“I’ve never even seen.”

Meredith smoothed her hands down Arabella’s arms and rubbed away the woman’s gooseflesh. “There is no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure I can impart enough information that when the time comes you don’t squawk like a scared infant and run away. All right, let’s start with the easy part, your wardrobe for the season, and go from there. If you are going to catch a rake’s eye, you need to be properly dressed for battle.”
 

Arabella frowned. “I didn’t think it would be so complicated.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “Men make everything complicated. Even the simplest seductions can be derailed by a man’s sense of honor. Grayling is proof of that.”

“Did he seduce you?”

“You know, I’m still not exactly sure which one of us seduced the other.” She grinned at Arabella. “It wasn’t anything like I planned, but the end result is all that matters.”

Arabella glanced at her slyly, amusement hovering behind her green eyes, but wisely kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t Meredith’s fault she’d fallen victim to a dangerously wicked earl. Arabella would find out just how hard they were to master in due time.

CHAPTER 12

THE STEADY KNOCK on Constantine’s study door sent his pulse skyrocketing. He glanced toward the trembling wood and swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe the promises he’d made yesterday to Miss Clark and the hours since had made him question his decision. Could he really keep his hands to himself and what the devil could Arabella know that was worth imparting to his new governess?

Constantine stood, tugged his waistcoat down, smoothed his hair, and then cursed himself. What did it matter what he looked like for Miss Clark? She was here for his children not for his pleasure. He sat back down again. “Come,” he called.

Cunningham widened the door and a small, dainty body followed, clutching a bag and a lace-trimmed bonnet. Prim, respectable. She was everything a governess should appear to be. Yet Miss Clark, like Calista before her, set fire to a gloomy day. Her gaze flickered to his from behind a pair of ridiculous spectacles—only worn as part of her latest disguise, he suspected—before her lids fell demurely over her expressive eyes. The dull brown dress covered every inch of her delectable skin. Outwardly, she looked nothing like the lover he couldn’t get out of his mind. If he didn’t know better, he’d think her a virginal spinster. Yet his body’s stirrings proved he wanted her no matter how she looked to others.

“Miss Clark, my lord.” Cunningham’s thoughtful glance in her direction told him full well that the butler suspected her character to be somewhat in question already. If the stodgy fool scared the woman away in the first week, he’d get his marching orders.

Constantine got to his feet and bowed. “Miss Clark, so good to see you again. I am very grateful you were available for the position on such short notice.”

Let the old stick-in-the-mud stew on that. It was about time Stanton Harold Hall employed someone with younger blood and shimmering vitality than the relics Cunningham had thrust before him for the governess position.

Calista, Miss Clark, dipped a graceful curtsy. “Good morning, my lord. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

He struggled to hide a smile. It was a relief that she’d finally arrived. He’d spent the morning debating what to do if she never appeared. “Did Lady Farnsworth get underway without incident this morning?”

“Yes, her carriage departed at the same time I did. She looked to be in excellent spirits and health for the journey.”

Constantine flicked his head, dismissing Cunningham. When the door closed, Constantine gestured to a chair set before his desk. “Won’t you sit?”

Her lips quirked up at the corners and he remembered he’d said that very same thing on the last night they were together. However, in this instance he wasn’t inviting her to mount him. The condom was returned to a drawer in his bedchamber and there it would remain.
 

When she passed him to sit where he indicated, Constantine inhaled sharply. Damn, she smelled good. He quickly sat behind his desk before he forgot his own rules. He would treat her as any other servant applying to enter his employ. They would talk, discuss her past and any references, and determine her wage. He would ignore the thickening length in his trousers and hope the desk hid his reaction to her presence. “Was your journey pleasant?”

“Yes, my lord. The light rain last night didn’t make the travel so bad as to be impossible.” She dug into her bag and thrust a wad of papers at him. “Lady Farnsworth asked me to pass along her best wishes and these letters. She apologizes for not delivering them in person, but she thought you might like to have a letter of reference from her. It’s the uppermost one. I’m not sure what the others might be.”

In all honesty, Constantine couldn’t care less about references, but their existence would lend credence to her claim of experience in educating young girls. He peeled open the missive she mentioned and read the short message it contained.

Don’t let her push you away. She needs you as much as you need her. She’d make you an excellent wife.

Bella

Constantine shuffled in his chair. “Did Arabella mention what she relates in this letter?”

“No.”

Constantine grunted and folded the letter. So Arabella thought she could manage him from London, did she? Admittedly, she’d done a spectacular job of reuniting him with his lover, albeit in a respectable guise this time. But a marriage between them was hardly likely.

A man with three daughters had to consider their futures and happiness, too. Calista, or Miss Clark, was a liar and the ultimate dissembler. Constantine had no idea who she really was beneath the superficial identity she showed the world, and that changed almost daily. It was true that one day he would have to bury his fear of putting a woman in peril and marry again. He needed a son to carry on after him. Yet he couldn’t consider any woman for a wife unless they were completely honest with him. That certainly wasn’t part of Miss Clark’s nature today.

He pushed the notion aside to contemplate on another day. He wouldn’t consider a second marriage for a long time, not until he had his daughter’s happiness in hand. Miss Clark had met the girls briefly, but she had a long way to go in gaining their trust. He would wait until he was sure of their contentment and they were showing signs of improvement with their new governess’s help before he turned his mind to his own needs. Their happiness was his first consideration.
 

His gaze fell to where Miss Clark twisted her gloved hands in her lap. Was she cold? He glanced toward the fire and considered adding more fuel to heat the room, but that was what he’d have done with Calista. With Miss Clark he shouldn’t be so obviously solicitous of her comfort. He clenched his hands before him on the desk and tried not to think of dragging her into his lap and wrapping her tight in his arms to warm her up personally.