To Catch A Spinster (The Reluctant Bride Collection) (3 page)

Nathaniel didn’t know what was worse, being twittered at by a brainless child or stared at without pause. He’d at least had experience with brainless chatter.

And she wasn’t even flirting! Miss Blakesley simply stared. No coy smiles, silly fan work, fluttering lashes. Just watching him— sizing him up, he couldn’t help but feel.

He wondered if she found him lacking. Was there something on his nose? His cravat in ruins? Surely his mother would have rushed over to save herself the embarrassment.

He excused himself from his partner, thankful that tonight there were men enough as dancing partners. He had done his duty; his mother could not fault him tonight. Although, unless he introduced her to a new bride this evening, she would anyway. Perhaps he would make his escape and leave his sister and brother-in-law to escort her home.

“Mr. Jenkins? Please excuse me for intruding on your thoughts.”

He turned and found Miss Blakesley inches from him, staring.

“Miss Blakesley, forgive me. I did not see you in the crush.”

She smiled slightly. “I do apologize. You looked quite ready to leave and there is a...a small matter I wish to discuss with you.”

He nodded, looking down at her. Up close, she was prettier than he remembered—in a serious, studious way. From afar she looked ready to battle the world. But to his surprise he towered over her; her personality loomed much larger than her frame. And her all-seeing eyes were a pale shade of blue.

“Shall we dance, Miss Blakesley?”

She looked at the dance floor longingly, then shook herself. “I would like that, Mr. Jenkins. However, the matter I wish to discuss is a bit private.”

Private? Was the girl trying to catch him? Being seen together in a compromising situation would certainly speed things along.

“I’m afraid there is not much privacy offered tonight. A waltz may be the closest we can get.”

“A waltz? Oh, yes. Well, perhaps that would work. Shall we?”

Nathaniel grinned down at her, offering his arm. “Why, thank you.”

Miss Blakesley blushed, taking his arm. What was she up to? No gently bred lady had ever tracked him across a ball before, nor wished to speak to him in private.

Or stared at him with icy blue eyes, making him feel like an open book.

He led her once around the floor, noticing the rigid corset under her dress.

“What was it you wished to speak about?”

Miss Blakesley cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder. “I want to assure you that I am in earnest. I can only imagine what you will think, but I...I would like you to seduce me.”

Nathaniel missed a step and tripped over her foot. A blush rose again to her cheeks. “Perhaps waltzing wasn’t a good idea.”

He was silent while he tried to think of an appropriate response. Had she really just asked him to seduce her?

She glanced at him, her cheeks glowing, and he decided she
had.

“Are you completely mad?”

She glanced at him quickly, then continued to stare over his shoulder. “No. I’m inexperienced and wish to change that. I had hoped you could help me.”

“I hesitate to ask why out of all the men of your acquaintance you have chosen me to relieve you of your inexperience.”

“You are not a rake.”

“No?”

“No. Having been through eight seasons I assure you I can spot the type.”

He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising at her frank admission of eight seasons. He didn’t even know how old his mother was and his sister wouldn’t admit to any age.

“Miss Blakesley, this is absurd. Even if I were a rake, I could not...assist you.”

The waltz ended and Nathaniel escorted her off the floor.

She gripped his arm. “Teach me the acts of seduction, Mr. Jenkins.”

He steered her to a blissfully empty corner and sat her in a chair rather abruptly.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” he said, taking another chair as far from her as possible and still be in the conversation.

“I assure you I do. But all my knowledge is second-hand. I would like to experience it myself.”

Nathaniel muttered a curse word not intended for polite ears and crossed his legs. Good God, he was hard! Simply talking about the subject in a most clinical way he was tempted to haul Miss Blakesley out of her chair and ravish her senseless.

She wanted him to seduce her!

What was the world coming to.

“Miss Blakesley, this is highly irregular, and very definitely immoral. I must advise you to do as every other woman and find yourself a husband. You are a gently bred lady with a good reputation.”

“And I am seven and twenty. Far too old to ‘find myself a husband’.”

“You are not so old; I would not have guessed a day past twenty-five.”

One of her elegantly cynical eyebrows raised. “Fine. Would you marry me?”

Nathaniel pushed himself back in his chair. “Me? Miss Blakesley...”

“Exactly. I am too old and too set in my ways with far too many freedoms-”

Nathaniel muttered, “Amen to that.”

“-to make a good wife, and I doubt I would enjoy a husband. I would enjoy a lover though.” She studied him a bit, eyeing his polished boots, the breeches molding his thighs, his hands clasped in his lap. “I would enjoy you.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“Miss Blakesley, I still can’t help but think you don’t know what you are asking, else you wouldn’t be asking a practical stranger.”

“It would be perfectly acceptable to marry you after such a short time. I don’t see how this is any different.”

What logic. If she couldn’t tell the difference between marriage and what she was suggesting there was no hope he could point it out.

“I’m willing to pay you.”

His mouth fell open. “Pardon?”

“I have access to the money saved for my dowry. I’m not willing to part with all of it, since you won’t be marrying me, but I’ll be able to pay what you think is fair.”

Nathaniel felt his face go red. “You want to pay me? I am not a damn prostitute!”

Miss Blakesley blinked, then coughed discreetly. “I had not thought of it like that. Male prostitution? Would I call you a gentleman of the night?”

She chuckled and the low sound sent a chill down his spine.

“You belong in Bedlam.”

She chuckled again. “I did not mean you would be a prostitute. I would like you to seduce me, woo me, not just...you know.”

“You want to pay me to woo you.”

“Yes. This is my one chance; I think I should have it all. I would like to be courted. You can come calling, dance with me, escort me to the opera. My sisters were never so happy as when they were being pursued. I would like the same.”

“And then presumably after I have wooed and won you, I would seduce you, and then jilt you in the eyes of the
ton
when I never see you again.”

“I know it will cause a very minor stir but I will take the blame. I have no one to impress, while one day you will have to take a wife.” She leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. “I would suggest girls a little older. Not too old, but not ones right out of the nursery. You seem to need a little heavier conversation than they can provide. Just a thought.”

“Thank you for the advice, Miss Blakesley.”

“You’re welcome. Now where were we?”

“You were turning me into a rake.”

“I wasn’t!”

“That is what it sounds like to me. I court you, make you fall in love with me, take your innocence, and leave you. I can’t think of a better definition than that. Perhaps you should find a man with more experience with that than I.”

She stared at him, her forehead wrinkled in consternation. “But I specifically do not want a rake. I do have my reputation to consider and I don’t want even a breath of scandal surrounding my family. Surely no one would think that you compromised me.”

“I hesitate to ask what you mean by that.”

“Well... I mean... You seem quite... Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to attack your virility.”

Nathaniel guffawed. “I didn’t know you were attacking my virility.”

“I just meant you have a reputation yourself. You never let your passions overwhelm you. You don’t drink or gamble to excess and you are quite discreet with your...lovers.”

He stared at her. Where this woman got her ideas and information from he didn’t know, but she had to be the most informed woman in the
ton
.

She smiled a little at him. “I do have five brothers-in-law, Mr. Jenkins. I usually can wheedle what I need out of them.”

“And I assume you have their blessings for this insane scheme of yours?”

“They all agree you are excellent husband material so I will have to assume you are excellent seducer material as well.”

He rubbed his forehead, thinking her circular arguments would land him in Bedlam as well.

“Miss Blakesley, I must admit that though I am intrigued by your proposition, I must decline. My honor would not allow me to compromise you in such a fashion.”

Her shoulders seemed to sag a little, but she rallied quickly. “Of course. I do understand, Mr. Jenkins. Your refusal tells me I was right about your character.” She smiled wryly. “I shall have to find someone with not so many morals. Could you recommend any other gentleman of your acquaintance?”

He stood sharply. “Certainly not. This entire affair is a foolish idea. Find yourself a husband.”

Miss Blakesley stood as well. “As I have told you, that is impossible. I have a few extremely bad habits and I do not desire a husband.”

He took a step closer, ignoring her sad eyes and pert nose. “I’m afraid, Miss Blakesley, that you must be ruined without my help.”

She glanced at his lips and whispered, “That’s a shame, Mr. Jenkins.”

He stared at the maddening woman, then turned briskly away. The faster he got away from her the better.

Honor was beginning to seem a poor consolation prize for what she was offering.

Three
 

A
week later, Nathaniel waited impatiently as his carriage slowly wound its way to the Hamilton’s. He had prepared for this ball with more excitement than he had felt in a long time. Possibly ever, as he wasn’t more than a passable dancer and the conversations had always run toward fashion. Now, however, there was Miss Blakesley. What scandalous dialogue she would insist on spouting while buttoned up to the neck, he had no idea. But he did not doubt it would be amusing. And intriguing. And arousing.

He had thought of little else than her this last week, playing again their conversation. No wonder. He had never before been approached by a woman to ruin her. He could in all honesty say she did not look mad. Or devious. Or even passionate. And yet, she was all three.

She looked like the scholarly spinster that she was. But underneath she was so much more. He was looking forward to her shocking him again tonight.

Oh, he had no intention of taking her up on her offer; he would talk her out of her madness if she continued to insist upon it. But he could not seem to stop thinking about it or her.

His mother intruded his thoughts. “You look quite eager tonight, Nathaniel.”

He immediately dropped the curtain and sat back in his cushion. “Perhaps I have accepted the necessity of all these social engagements.”

“Mmm. What’s her name?”

He grinned at his mother, who sat back with an expression of shock on her face. He laughed. “Come, Mother. I can’t be such an ogre that a grin throws you.”

She composed herself. “Of course not. But you must admit this is quite a change from last week when I practically had to drag you.”

He nodded. “On reflection, I have decided I enjoyed myself immensely last week. And I have every intention of doing so again.” He skewered her with a stare. “But I do not want you jumping to conclusions about every young lady I come in contact with.”

His mother opened her fan, waving it idly. “You could do worse than find someone who excites you, Nathaniel.”

It was true. However, he doubted his mother would approve of the lady if she knew why he was excited.

As if reading his mind she said, “If it is Miss Blakesley, I think it a good match. She does seem to have a certain indescribable character about her.”

“Yes, she is fascinating.”

“And really dear, don’t think too much on the age. It is true she is not fresh from the schoolroom but she is still young enough. She is from a good, quiet, respectable family.”

Nathaniel snorted. If Miss Blakesley was anything it was not good, quiet, or respectable.

Olivia searched the crowded ballroom with little enjoyment. Since Mr. Jenkins had so very effectively dismissed her, she had been hard pressed to get excited about the project.

It didn’t help to know that he was right—it was a foolish idea. And the chances of her succeeding were shrinking every day. She needed to find a good, decent man and ask him to act in a reprehensible way.

Foolishness, indeed.

She hadn’t actually thought he would reject her. What man could ignore his baser passions when offered an unplucked flower on a platter?

Obviously, when it was her unplucked flower, it was easy.

At this rate she was going to have to find a rake after all. And one who didn’t have high expectations.

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