How To Seduce A Sinner

She had chosen the right man. Now all she needed to do was to wait until he realized it.

Carter did not want to leave the ball, or more specifically, he did not want to leave Dorothea. But he had made plans to spend the evening with Benton, Dawson, and the major, and Carter felt he must stick with those arrangements. Acquiring a fiancee, and soon a wife, was going to alter his life but his friendship with these men would remain strong.

“I read the most appalling bit of news in The Times today, Atwood,” Viscount Benton said as he discarded one of his playing cards and reached for another. “There was an announcement of your marriage. Surely that was some sort of ghastly error?”

Carter blinked through the smoke-filled air and smiled cagily at the men seated around the table. They had been drinking, smoking, and gambling for nearly five hours and not a word had been said concerning his upcoming nuptials. He wondered briefly why Benton sought to introduce the topic now, but concluded his friend had most likely just remembered. After all, the viscount had been on a winning streak for most of the night.

“’Tis true, Benton,” he answered. “Miss Ellingham and I are to be married.”

Benton shot a wicked smile in Carter’s direction. “Dorothea Ellingham, the very same female under Dardington’s protection? Then I know it must be true. Only a simpleton would cross Dardington. Unless your brains have gone missing?”

The viscount looked so hopeful that Carter burst out laughing. “I am merely following your advice, Benton. I tossed out my father’s list of potential brides and found a woman on my own to marry.”

“Ah, so this is my plan in action?” The viscount squinted down at his cards for a long moment, then tilted his head to one side. “But you were supposed to find someone unsuitable and then pretend to want to take her as your bride. That would have bought you more time as a bachelor. Miss Ellingham is a perfectly acceptable female, therefore you will have to go through with it.”

“I am very aware of that fact,” Carter answered as he slid the last card across the table to Dawson.

Dawson accepted it with a smile, then frowned when he turned it over. The man really did have the worst face for cards, far too open and honest. “I confess I was also surprised to read the announcement,” Dawson added. “I thought it was Roddy who had Miss Ellingham in his sights.”

The three men turned toward the major. He abruptly ceased shuffling the cards in his hands when he realized they were staring at him. “I took her on a single picnic,” he declared, straightening in his chair.

“Ah, well, I for one wish you great happiness, Atwood,” Dawson said sincerely. “She is a lovely woman.”

“And I wish you a return to your senses before the date,” Benton quipped. “There is still time to escape. I hear the hunting in Scotland can be prime this time of year.”

Carter smiled. “I have no desire to escape. The marriage is on my terms and I’m pleased with this decision. Won’t you be happy for me?”

Benton shook his head violently. “I would be happier if I did not believe you had lost your mind.”

“To Atwood’s marriage,” Dawson said, lifting his glass.

Roddy followed suit, but Benton slumped forward, propped his elbow on the table, and rested his chin in his hand. “I cannot condone this decision, however lovely the future bride. You will not be able to exchange her for a new one, you know. She will be a part of your life forever. Perhaps, if the vicar is to be believed, into eternity.” The viscount shuddered visibly at the notion.

“You’re drunk,” Carter declared.

“Damn right. You should be, too. No sane, sober man would take this step unless he was under the hatches.”

“But it’s what I want,” Carter replied mildly.

“And you always get whatever you desire, don’t you, Atwood?” Roddy declared before lifting his glass and draining it in one long gulp.

Carter narrowed his eyes at the major’s venomous tone. “You told me you had no interest in the lady. Were you lying?”

“I’m not a liar!” Roddy snarled.

He lunged toward Carter. Despite his minor inebriation, Carter managed to tilt himself out of the way. Before the major could regroup, Dawson jumped between the two men.

“Calm down, Roddy!” Dawson shouted. “There’s no need for any of this nonsense.”

The major shrugged off Dawson’s hand and stood on his feet. “He called me a liar.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Benton moaned. “That racket is playing havoc inside my head. Atwood meant no insult, did you?”

“I’m sure he did not,” Dawson interjected. “Nor did the major. I fear we’ve all had too much good brandy tonight.”

“Hell, Dawson, there is no such thing as too much brandy,” Benton insisted. He refilled each glass before casting a stern glance at Carter and the major. “To friendship.”

Carter waited expectantly for Roddy to make the first conciliatory move. With a sheepish grin, the major raised his glass in salute. Carter accepted the unspoken apology and did the same, but he was not entirely certain that too much brandy was the true reason for the major’s tirade. And the thought left him very unsettled.

Chapter Ten

The wedding ceremony between Carter Grayson, Marquess of Atwood and Miss Dorothea Ellingham took place promptly at ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning the third week of May. St. George’s Church at Hanover Square was near bursting at the corners as gentry and common folk alike crowded inside the stately building, craning their necks for a glimpse of the bride and groom.

Dorothea wore a lovely gown of pale blue satin trimmed with exquisite lace and a small matching bonnet. The ride from Lord and Lady Dardington’s home was brief, and she was grateful, for it left no time for her nerves to flutter and catch hold.

Lord Atwood was waiting on the church steps when she arrived. Dressed in a blue superfine coat with a gold embroidered waistcoat and a fall of elegant Belgium lace on his cravat, he looked devilishly handsome and noble. Dorothea nearly felt the need to pinch herself, scarcely believing she was about to marry such an elegant, aristocratic man.

He sauntered down the church steps the moment the coach halted and insisted on helping her himself. She shifted the prayer book that had once belonged to her mother to her left hand, placed her right in his, and stepped down to stand beside him.

“You look lovely,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Lady Meredith bustled behind her, adjusting the lace on the short train of Dorothea’s gown. When she was satisfied with the result, Lady Meredith bent toward her and kissed her cheek.

Dorothea gulped back the emotions rising in her throat. Lady Meredith had been so much more than a social sponsor. She had been a kind, loyal friend and Dorothea knew she would very much miss being an everyday part of the Dardington household.

Lord Dardington embraced her next, paying careful attention to his wife’s admonishment not to muss her hair or bonnet. Then he turned to take Lady Meredith’s arm and escort her inside the church.

Dorothea’s heart lurched as she watched them leave. But she was saved from an embarrassing display of emotions by a rustling noise. She lifted her head and for the first time noticed Viscount Benton was also on the church steps, looking utterly ridiculous holding a dainty, feminine bouquet of white roses tied with white satin ribbon.

“Benton is standing up with me,” Carter explained.

“He hardly looks pleased at the idea,” Dorothea blurted out, apparently loud enough for the viscount to hear, for he stepped forward and bowed gracefully.

“I beg of you not to take my opinion personally. ’Tis an inbred abhorrence of marriage that facilitates my dour mood, not a particular prejudice against you. I further confess that I advised my good friend Atwood not to get into