Then Comes Seduction

been behaving out of character, you know. He never singles out any lady at any social event. The fact that he has done so now more than once with the same lady accounts for the notice everyone is taking. Unfortunately, you are the object of his attentions. I will have a word with him-he really ought to know better and doubtless does. His trouble is that he does not care a fig what the ton thinks of him. Please do be careful. Not of your virtue-I know that is safe. But of your reputation. Monty is trouble, Katherine, even if he is my friend.”

They had emerged from the cover of trees. The sun was now shining in earnest, and Katherine raised her parasol above her head.

“This was all very unnecessary, Constantine,” she said, “but I will remember that it comes from your concern for me. And I always appreciate that. How I wish we had known each other from childhood on as we ought to have done since we are cousins. I would have known Jonathan too. I am sure I would have loved him.”

Jonathan had been Constantine’s younger brother-his legitimate brother and Earl of Merton for a while after their father’s death. He had been handicapped and had died at the age of sixteen, leaving Stephen the title and properties and fortune. Constantine had once described his brother as pure love.

He turned his head and grinned at her.

“Anxious to change the subject, are you?” he asked. “Very well, then. Yes, you would have loved Jon, and he would have adored you. All of you.”

Katherine relaxed and tried to enjoy the rest of the outing.

But part of her was almost numb with shock.

There was gossip about her. About her and Lord Montford of all people.

And she was at least partly to blame. She might have said no when he asked her to dance at Lady Parmeter’s ball. She might have insisted upon taking Stephen’s arm for the walk back through Hyde Park from the Serpentine and left Lord Montford to escort Meg or his sister. She might have told him yesterday quite firmly that she wished to be alone in the pavilion. Better yet, she might have got to her feet, bidden him a civil good day, and left him there.

Oh, yes, she was at least partly to blame. For she had actually been finding his company amusing and his conversation witty and stimulating, much as she disapproved of him and told herself that she wanted to have nothing to do with him. Much as she knew very well that he was up to no good.

She must indeed be more careful. She must have nothing whatsoever to do with him while she remained in London, and when she went to Cedarhurst Park-how she wished now she were not going-she must remain with Meg or Stephen or Miss Wrayburn or one of the other guests at all times.

But all resolves to be more careful came too late.

Trouble hit with full force for Jasper the following day. He had spent the evening at home, a rare thing for him. He had accepted an invitation to the Clarkson soiree, but it was sure to be one at which Katherine Huxtable would also be making an appearance, and it seemed wise to stay away. He could have gone, of course, and made a point to the would-be gossips by staying far away from her all evening, but that would have been a flat bore, and he chose never to endure boredom when it could be avoided altogether.

So he had delighted Charlotte by remaining at home with her all evening.

He was taken quite by surprise the following morning, then, when, on his arrival at White’s Club to read the papers he was greeted by a veritable army of friends, acquaintances, and the merely curious.

“Ho, Monty,” Viscount Motherham called out by way of greeting, “we all guessed that you would have run for the hills by now as fast as your legs would carry you.”

“Splendid courage, old chap,” Barney Rungate said. “I did not guess any such thing. I would have wagered on your sauntering in here as you have just done as though nothing had happened.”

“Courage?” Charlie Field said. “More like a death wish, Rungate. Is it not a mite suicidal to be still in town this morning, Monty? I would have thought even Cedarhurst unsafe territory. Or even the hills, for that matter. Does the American wilderness beckon, perhaps?”

“You are a dead goner, Monty,” some unidentified voice said mournfully. “No doubt about that.”

“With the key word being dead,” someone else added. “I believe the Duke of Moreland and the Earl of Merton and Con Huxtable are after your blood, Monty, to mention only three.”

Ah! What now?

Jasper raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“Where the devil have all the papers gone?” he asked. “Has Norton taken them all again? And have I perchance missed something interesting? Three gentlemen turned vampire, for example?”

“Monty,” Charlie Field said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “never mind the papers, old boy. Those three would probably have found you by now and relieved you of a pint or two of blood each if they had not considered it of greater importance to go after Forester first. He is your cousin, I believe?”

Ah!

Jasper went very still. He did not even correct the misconception.

For the first time he felt a powerful premonition of disaster.

“I am devastated,” he said languidly. “Forester is deemed of greater importance than I? What has he done, pray, to merit such a distinction? Or said?”

“It is more what someone else has been saying, Monty,” Motherham explained, “though no one seems to know who, and understandably no one is owning up to having loose lips and saying it. But someone has told Forester about that infamous wager you lost a few years ago. A few dozen men knew about it, of course, but not a one of them ever broke the code of a gentleman’s honor to spread the word outside our own circle, especially as the reputation of an innocent lady was at stake. Not a one until now, that is. But someone told Forester, perhaps because the man is your cousin and whoever it was assumed he already knew.”

Jasper stared at him, all pretense of languorous unconcern abandoned. It was far worse than anything he might have expected.

“And-?” he said softly.

“And Forester spent all evening yesterday at Clarkson’s telling everyone who would listen,” Motherham continued. “Except that he changed a few details and cast aspersions on the lady’s honor and on your word that you had failed to win the wager. He has been saying that her behavior this year indicates that she did not spurn you on that occasion, Monty, and has not spurned you on any occasion since then either.”

“It’s a disaster, old chap,” Charlie said unnecessarily, slapping him on the shoulder again. “You know that gossip is like the contents of Pandora’s box. There is no recalling it.”

“It is going to be parson’s mousetrap for you if you do not make a dash for the hills now or sooner,” Hal said. “I would dash for the hills if I were you.”

“It is going to be the end of all matrimonial hopes for the Huxtable chit if you do that, though, Monty,” Barney Rungate said. “And probably for her sister too. Even Merton may find himself not so well received for a while. It’s a devilish thing. I wonder if Moreland and Merton and Con will toss for it to see who gets to put a bullet between Forester’s eyes-before coming after you, that is. However did you get yourself saddled with someone like Forester for a cousin? It’s dashed hard luck. And what the devil have you done to offend him that he has dreamed up this sweet revenge?”

Jasper had recovered some of his famous ennui. He even managed a yawn behind one hand, though admittedly that was probably overdoing things just a little.

“My mother had the misfortune to marry his uncle,” he said. “He is not my cousin, and I would be obliged never again to hear that he is. I believe he has taken exception to being called Sir Clarrie instead of Sir Clarence. It is, I suppose, provocation enough for a vicious attack upon a young lady who has done nothing to offend him and is entirely innocent of all charges against her. I trust everyone here is convinced of that fact?” His voice had gone very quiet.

There was a murmured swell of assent.

“Whiter than snow, Monty,” Charlie said. “There has never been any doubt of that. Not here, anyway. But it will be another story in almost every drawing room in town, old fellow. I believe Lady Forester was with her son