A Game of Persuasion: Extended Prologue for the Art of Ruining a Rake (The Naughty Girls Book 3) (3 page)

Without budging, the stone-faced sentry flicked his eyes over Lucy’s person. “Who are you?”

Lucy cleared her throat and stood taller. “Miss Lancester, sir.” She wasn’t entirely certain why she was “sir’ing” a servant, but it seemed appropriate.

Really, she
must
hire on a man like this for her school.

No sooner had she given her name than the servant pulled himself upright. His barrel-shaped chest puffed as the door opened wider. He stepped back and waved her in. “Miss
Lancester
! Come in.”

Lucy hid her surprise. Now
this
was intriguing. The man must be aware of Trestin, or else why would he have snapped to attention at the sound of her surname?

But she said nothing about it as she entered the foyer. It shouldn’t surprise her to learn he was familiar with her brother. Miss Gray’s domestics had returned with her from Devon, leaving her little stone cottage empty. Just because this man hadn’t been in the countryside didn’t mean he didn’t know what had transpired.

Faster than Lucy would have thought possible given his size, the burly man whisked in front of her. He led her into a sitting room done up in a bold saffron yellow, his expression guarded despite the speed with which he settled her on the crimson-colored couch in the center of the room.

He departed, presumably to notify his mistress, and Lucy kept her expression carefully composed as she took in a room that was anything but staid. Two additional red chairs splashed across the space, accenting the yellow walls and the Spanish landscape hanging over the mantel. Wrought iron frames accented the decor, giving the room a distinctly Italian feel.

A deliciously
worldly
feel. No wonder Trestin was in love with her. Miss Gray was vivid. Alive. Just like Lucy wanted to become.

Finally, the renowned courtesan peeked into the room, as though unsure whether she would really find Lucy sitting in her front parlor.

Lucy sat up straighter. Suddenly, she was nervous. If anyone learned of her call today, she would be ruined. And if Trestin learned of it, she’d be locked up.

What frightened her most, however, was the thought of Miss Gray rejecting her request for help.

Miss Gray stepped gracefully into the room, her poise almost regal. Lucy rose.
She could do this.
Asking a favor of another female shouldn’t give her heart palpitations.

Requesting that an illustrious consort advise her in the tricks of lovemaking might justify a
small
tremor, however.

 
“Miss Smythe!” Lucy said, bungling the woman’s name in her nervousness. “I mean, Miss Gray.”

Miss Gray faltered, flinching visibly. Lucy felt her cheeks heat. Miss Gray likely needed no additional reminders of the unpleasantness that had been her time in Devon. Foolish, foolish mistake.

“Miss Lancester.” Miss Gray enunciated the syllables slowly, seeming to choose her words with care. “I am pleasantly surprised to see you, but surely you shouldn’t be here.” A frown creased her brow.

The vast understatement gave Lucy hope. Miss Gray might be an Impolite, but she was still
too
polite to toss Lucy out on her ear.

Lucy walked forward and held out her hands. “He’ll never know,” she reassured Miss Gray, clasping the other woman’s hands. On impulse, she pulled the courtesan in for a quick hug. There had been a time when Lucy, too, had believed their neighbor to be simple Miss Smythe, and they’d become tentative friends of a sorts, until Trestin had learned the truth and separated them. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Miss Gray didn’t return Lucy’s spontaneous embrace. Rather, she stepped back and pulled Lucy onto the red sofa.

“It’s wonderful to see you, too,” Miss Gray said uneasily, leaving no doubt she’d never expected to see Lucy again after Devon, let alone inside her house of ill repute. The tenuous friendship they’d formed had clearly been tainted by Trestin’s harsh treatment of her.

It might require time for her to warm to and trust Lucy again.

In a way, Lucy was glad of the hesitant, awkward greeting. Miss Gray wasn’t
always
confident and poised, then. She could be shaken. And if she was not a goddess, but a human woman, surely that meant Lucy, too, could learn the art of sensuality.

Miss Gray patted Lucy’s hand tentatively, visibly acclimating herself to the sudden surprise appearance of her former beau’s younger sister.

“How is your Season faring?” she asked after a time, seeming to decide she would visit with Lucy after all.

The perfect opening for the subject Lucy had come to discuss. “Not
my
Season, you know. Trestin is the one on the Marriage Mart, though he prefers to pretend it’s Delilah and me. Not that Delilah is husband-hunting, either. My dear sister
cannot
stop pining for Mr. Conley. She’s quite withdrawn.”

“Poor Trestin,” Miss Gray murmured, her skin turning almost translucent as the color left her cheeks.
 

Lucy instantly felt contrite, again. What was she blabbering on about? She ought not to have mentioned Trestin, when all she’d meant to explain was that
she
wasn’t looking for a husband, for she was quite in love with Roman.

She certainly hadn’t intended to cause the other woman misery.

She forced herself to laugh, though she felt gauche for putting her slipper in her mouth. “Poor
me
! Trestin is a hound with a bone. He has some misguided opinion I would make the perfect cleric’s wife. Where he got that notion, I have no idea. I detest the church. The more left unsaid on that the better, though I vow
you
will not judge me for it.”

Miss Gray’s brow crinkled. Once again, Lucy winced at her
faux pas
. Had she truly rehearsed this tête-à-tête before coming? It had all sounded much better in her head.

She leaned forward, squeezing Miss Gray’s frigid hands. She needed to say one right thing before she bungled her visit entirely. “There are only two things I want in this life and I know you can help me with one.”

Miss Gray’s fingers attempted to slip Lucy’s grip, but Lucy held tighter as her former co-conspirator looked at her with skepticism.

Lucy steeled herself, then said, “Teach me how to seduce Roman Alexander.”

Miss Gray’s green eyes went wide with shock. “Your brother would kill me!”

Lucy’s heart pounded in her throat. She wasn’t sure when her objective had changed from a few heated looks to full-on seduction, but now that she’d said the words, her entire being sprang to life. She wanted to
feel
Roman. To touch him, to taste him, and yes, to see him look at her with naked desire.
 

Please, Zeus, Miss Gray couldn’t
refuse
her. If she did, all hope was lost. Lucy would never have another chance to know what pleasures he could bring her.

“He’ll never know,” Lucy assured her coyly, with more confidence than she felt. “Why would I tell him?”
 

When Miss Gray continued to gawp at her in horror, Lucy smiled as if they shared a lovely secret—as they very much did, now. “I have a dream of starting a girls’ school, you know. All very proper. This shall be my last hurrah. I trust you can do this, Miss Gray.”

Miss Gray stared mutely, clearly dumbfounded by Lucy’s request.

Lucy tried to see herself from Miss Gray’s point of view. She was asking a woman with no reputation to risk one that was unblemished. She must think Lucy mad.

It didn’t hit far from the mark.

Lucy released Miss Gray’s hands and rose. Calmly, appearing far calmer than she felt, she took in the graceful ironwork decorating the room like an Italian palazzo. “You worked magic for me that day on the shore,” she said, referring to the outing that had ended—most unfortunately—in Trestin’s scathing rebuke of the woman he’d come to admire. “Roman had never spared me a glance before and hasn’t since.”

Miss Gray blinked once, as though taken aback.

Before she could cut in with an objection, Lucy continued, “Oh, I know I’m not the type to catch his eye, but that’s where
you
come in. You were friends once, weren’t you? Until he didn’t approve of your interest in my brother. Well, of course he didn’t.” Lucy decided not to mince words, for the reason that she’d come to Miss Gray rather than anyone else was contained inside one simple statement of fact. “You’re a courtesan.”

Miss Gray’s lips parted. “How old are you again?”
 

Lucy laughed, this time truthfully. There was indeed something liberating about being with Miss Gray. She possessed an aura of having seen and done everything, an atmosphere that tempted a person to speak openly, even about subjects that would otherwise be forbidden. As if, just because Miss Gray had given herself to licentiousness, Lucy had permission to do so, as well.

Miss Gray seemed to have gained control of her thoughts. She sat up straighter and frowned. “Absolutely not. You’re too young, too innocent, and you have far too bright of a future ahead of you. I won’t usher your ruination.”

“I’m four and twenty. Firmly on the shelf. Who will ever know I seduced my brother’s best friend?”

Miss Gray’s eyes widened. “Everyone!”

Lucy
tsked,
for while there were many risks to her plan, this was not one of them. “Come now, Roman isn’t going to shout it out for all and sundry. That’s the fastest way to the parson’s trap. He’s certainly not going to tell my brother. Trestin is a crack shot. It will be a secret only the three of us know.”

“A ridiculously innocent notion,” Miss Gray replied, rebuking her sharply. “Men talk. Especially him. Look how well he kept my secret.”

The volley hit its mark. Roman had been the only one in Devon who’d known of Miss Gray’s past, and he hadn’t been able to keep it to himself. Lucy had heard him tell Trestin the truth that day on the beach. It was one of the many conversations meant for gentlemen’s ears she’d eavesdropped on over the years, especially when those conversations involved Roman.

He’d meant well, she was sure. He’d had Trestin’s best interests at heart. But Miss Gray had lost the new life she’d begun building in Brixcombe-on-the-Bay, and Trestin had become a maudlin, withdrawn wreck. All because Roman hadn’t understood how easy it was to fall in love with someone unsuitable. A terrible complication Lucy knew only too well.

Yet she couldn’t let Miss Gray’s dashed hopes interfere with her own future. “I’m well aware Roman is a horrible gossip. But I promise you, he will not want to risk it.”

Miss Gray paused before she said, “Much can be deduced from very little.” Then she rose and approached Lucy. “How exactly did you find me?”

Lucy clasped her hands before her in a picture of gentility. “A lady never reveals her sources.” She glanced at her hands demurely, though she couldn’t contain a small, satisfied smile. If Miss Gray knew the extent to which she’d gone to investigate her brother’s would-be wife, she might think Lucy completely without scruples.
And she would be correct.

“The answer is no.” Miss Gray’s tone was final.

Lucy relinquished her guiltless expression with a roll of her eyes. “Oh, very well.” Raising her linked hands to her bosom, she spun to face the window. She wouldn’t explain how she’d come to find Miss Gray’s direction, for her methods were devious, even for her. But she did wish to explain how she’d come to learn Miss Gray’s secret. “If you must know, I overheard Trestin and Roman arguing that day on the shore. The pieces came together. Our father was a profligate, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trestin loathes any reminder of Father, and that includes his feelings for you. I’m afraid he doesn’t understand love, Miss Gray, but he will.”

She sighed, feeling terribly sad for her misguided, moral compass of a brother. “For the last seven years, he’s kept the concept pure and perfect in his heart, believing that if my parents had loved each other with a pure, perfect innocence, Father would never have had mistresses and Mother would never have shot him for it. But they did love each other. I remember them clearly.”

A shiver passed through Lucy, unbidden.

She turned, drawing a breath. “I apologize for what I’m about to say, Miss Gray, but you need to understand why I came. After witnessing my brother’s melancholy, I’m even more adamant to have a night in Roman’s arms. I want to
live
. I fear I will never have another chance.”

Almost imperceptibly, Miss Gray leaned forward. Worry clouded her eyes. “Trestin is hurting?” Her voice sounded strained.

Lucy flinched inwardly. She ought not to have let that slip. What if she’d given Miss Gray hope, when he hadn’t changed his mind, not at all?

“Not anymore,” Lucy hedged. “I
am
sorry about that.”

Miss Gray glanced away, making Lucy feel terribly for lying. Lucy
did
wish she could improve her brother’s opinion of the beautiful, fun-loving woman. She’d love nothing more than to see Miss Gray and Trestin carefree and happy again, as they’d been in Brixcombe. But it wasn’t in her power to convince Trestin to return to Miss Gray, and she certainly couldn’t promise her brother was thinking about it. Only he could decide when and if he would admit he’d been a horse’s arse.

Lucy approached Miss Gray and gave her hand a squeeze, wanting to comfort her, yet reluctant to betray assumptions about her brother’s change of heart. “Won’t you help me?”