How to Seduce a Bride

indeed,” he murmured. “Despite the cliche, I must say that you look fresh as your namesake. It’s good to see you haven’t adopted Town hours. I wanted to speak with you without multitudes hovering nearby. That let out most of my usual haunts: soirees, musicales and parties, and the theater. But we can go for a stroll in the fresh morning air. Will you come for a walk with me?

“Helena,” he said, “I know your devotion to duty and it is commendable. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather you didn’t follow too closely. I need some privacy with Daisy. There are things of a delicate nature I wish to say.”

Lud! Daisy thought; he was going to give her hell for turning Geoff down. Well, she could face it, in fact, welcomed it, because she felt bad about it herself.

“If that meets with her approval,” Helena said primly.

“It’s fine with me,” Daisy said. “I like the morning. I know you’re probably used to seeing it the other way ’round, my lord, from the night as it turns into day. But I always liked morning best. You get to breathe the air before everyone else gets to it.”

“When I’m in the countryside I rise when I’d be going to bed in London,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on his sleeve. “There’s really not much else to do at night in the country,” he added, “unless you have company.”

She laughed out loud. “Now that sounds like you. I was beginning to wonder if someone was posing as you.”

“So pleased to have relieved your mind,” he said as they went out to the street. “Believe it or not, it was an inadvertent double entendre. But a good one,” he mused. “I must remember it.”

They walked on toward the park, Helena a discreet few paces behind them.

“As I thought,” he said when they went through the park gates. “No one who knows anyone is out this early. Oh, some rugged young men and women are doubtless galloping hither and yon. But they use the equestrian gates, and go deep into the park. We’re just going to promenade on its perimeters. Helena, would you like to feed the ducks? They look ravenous. Or maybe you’d prefer to rest on that bench over there? I’ll just stroll on ’round the lake with Daisy. Nothing dreadful will transpire. Even I can’t think of a way to disgrace or dishonor her here.”

Helena smiled. “I’d love to sit and enjoy the morning sunlight, my lord. As it happens, I’ve a book with me. Take your time.”

“I always do,” he said with a lazy smile.

“How do you make even the most innocent statement sound so immoral?” Daisy asked him as they walked on.

“It’s a gift,” he said. “But that wasn’t an innocent statement.”

She laughed. It was pleasant strolling the path with him; his company wasn’t so unnerving in the day as it was by moonlight and lamplight. He was still a strong presence and a fascinating male, but she felt less threatened in such mundane surroundings. There were nannies and prams, toddlers, old folks, and many dogs everywhere. She could see a milkmaid in the distance, hurrying to where the cows grazed on the meadow. The trees were in full leaf; the day was mild, Daisy felt relaxed and happy for the first time in a long time. Which was odd, because she knew he’d soon drop his calm facade and read her the riot act.

“You turned the earl down,” he finally said.

She nodded, and watched her slippers as they walked on. “I listened to your advice, after all. It was best for him. He’s a very nice man. I’d have made a bad wife. You were right.”

“I never said you’d make a bad wife. I just said you wouldn’t be the right one for him.”

“Six of one, half dozen of the other,” she said. “I’ll leave London when this business of accusing me of all sorts of mischief about Tanner is over. I think I’d like a quiet life, after all.”

“Quieter than one spent with a scholarly man twice your age?”

That made her look up. He was serious. She looked down again. “He’s not dead. I realized that old doesn’t mean incapable. I just don’t want… a capable husband.”

“Because of your experiences with your late husband? I can understand that, certainly. Did you know,” he said idly, “that I was savaged by one of my father’s hunting dogs when I was a tot? It’s true. I got between him and his prey. He didn’t kill me, after all, and looked very shamed when they pulled him off me. He was a valuable hound, and lived to a ripe old age. I almost didn’t. Yet I bear no scars, because my nurse was a wonder with a needle; she could mend sheets so you’d never know they’d been torn, and, it turned out, earlobes and scalp lesions with the same deft hand.

“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “I may have scars at that, it’s just that I can’t see them. If I lose my hair, perhaps I will. My point,” he went on, “is that though I had parents who didn’t care, my nurse did. Do you know what she put into my bed to cheer me as I lay convalescing? A puppy. Imagine that. I learned, early on, that experience can teach you some things, but it’s far better to keep learning new things.”

“Geoff isn’t a puppy,” she said in annoyance. “And it isn’t a thing I can think about and banish.”

“Neither were my wounds,” he said. They’d stopped walking, and stood in a quiet shaded spot, beneath a huge oak.

She watched him suspiciously. They were, she realized, now out of sight of most people in the park.

“But the feel of that puppy!” he said, smiling. “Lord, I can still remember. She was fat and smooth-coated; she felt like my mother’s seal cape, only of course she was warmer. Her tongue was warm, too, and her teeth prickled when she nibbled at my fingers. My attacker had been all fangs and claws. The puppy was nothing like that. I hesitate to ruin my manly reputation, but I still shudder when a dog bares its teeth. The difference is that I also quite like dogs of any size or shape, purebred or mongrel. Speaking of which,” he went on casually, “your husband was doubtless a cur. Most men are not. I certainly am not. Neither is Geoff, but he was so devastated by your refusal, he confessed he wouldn’t know how to court you now. I do. I could. Would you care to marry me?”

She stared.

“I would make a most unexceptional husband,” he said serenely. “Once I was wed, I’d give up the chase. That, I promise. I’d never do to any other person what my unfaithful mama did to my father and brothers, and me. There are other advantages. I’d be able to help you dress, because among my few talents is a fine sense of fashion. I possess a melodic tenor, too; I like to ride, spar and fence, and discuss current affairs, in all senses of the words. Which means I’d have interests to take me from the house so I wouldn’t hang at your elbow all the time.

“My estate in the north is historic; it’s actually quite magnificent,” he said. “But I don’t go there often, because that’s where my mother lives. I prefer my little country home in the West Country. I’d want to remove to London for the Season, though. I love the theater, and am thinking of going into politics. I’ve always imagined dabbling in politics is even more delicious than gossiping. After all, just think of all the lives you can actually change by discussing them. And,” he concluded, “I’m very rich. So, what say you? If you were married to me, no one could or would dare prosecute you for anything. Unless, of course,” he said thoughtfully, “you decide to heave a bomb at our prince after shouting some stirring republican slogan at him, or stabbed him repeatedly, in public.”

“Are you mad?” she gasped.

“Almost certainly,” he said. “But benignly so.”

“Why in God’s name would you want to marry me?”

“I collect originals,” he said.

“I’m a convict-or was,” she blurted. “I’m wellborn but not titled. And I’m wealthy, but not rich.”

He smiled. “You also need some lessons in basic English. You probably meant to say it the other way around: rich but not wealthy. It hardly matters. I have enough money to last me and you, and our heirs, all their lives.”

“I won’t be giving you heirs,” she said angrily. “Don’t you understand? I don’t like the process.”

His smile faded. Something else, something both tender and determined, lit his eyes. He ran one kid-gloved finger down the side of her cheek. “Your lips told me otherwise the other day. You don’t like what you know. I can show you what you don’t. I can show you so well, you’ll be amazed at how you felt before.” His eyes never left hers.

She again felt that he’d shrunk the world to just the two of them.

“It will be slow going,” he said, his finger slowly traveling down her cheek to her lips. “And only going forward when you agree, but it will, and you will. I think, deep down, Daisy, that you already know that.”

He lowered his head to touch her lips with his. She didn’t move. Again, she felt the shock of his mouth on hers