The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,135
intends to do it again. The handsome scoundrel has never felt more compelled to be a better man. But the damage has been done, for his buttoned-up spinster refuses to marry a bounder like him—and maddeningly, she doesn’t seem to like him. Nevertheless, he can’t seem to forget her, or her passionate response to his kisses. How much danger could there be in one more try?
She wants revenge
Practical headmistress Lucy Lancester naively believes her charming rogue has moved on to his next conquest, leaving her free to cherish their one night together for the rest of her bluestocking days. Until the afternoon he arrives at her school intent on proving their one night together wasn’t enough…and this time, the scandal can’t be contained. Well, two can play at that. How hard can it be to ruin a rake?
Chapter One
IF MISS LUCY LANCESTER’S LIFE WERE A BOOK, she’d be living in the last few pages where the villain had been vanquished, the world rescued and the hero galloped on his steed toward the horizon. Her days as headmistress of her School for Unfortunate Females filled her completely. She oversaw the tutelage and deportment of twenty-five bright-eyed girls. Her responsibility extended to the employment of two teachers, a retainer, four maids and a cook. If her school was not profitable it was at least solvent, and she adored living in Bath.
Her life now was a chapter of perfect contentment. If it was the last chapter of her book, and she could look forward to nothing but year after year of this harmony, she would be the luckiest female on earth.
She looked up from her correspondence when Mr. Mowry, her retainer and the only man welcome on the property, appeared in her doorway. He was of middling height, with black hair turning to gray at the temples and a pleasant air. There’d be no more stuffy servants in her future. “Miss Lancester, there’s a gentleman to see you. Shall I show him in?”
“Mr. Strickett? I wasn’t expecting him to collect Wilhelmina until tomorrow.” Wilhelmina was the last of her paying girls to return home for winter break. The charity girls would stay on with Mr. Mowry and Miss Brown. Lucy smiled at him. “Perhaps I may leave Bath early, then, and visit with my sister for an extra day before heading to Devon. Would you mind terribly?”
Mr. Mowry shrugged, a common gesture that would have been cause for a lecture in Lucy’s brother’s house. But Mr. Mowry did know the finer points of conduct, and would never embarrass her in front of her girls’ wealthy families. “You go on now whenever you like, Miss Lancester. But I don’t think it is Mr. Strickett. He gave his name as Lord Montborne.”
Lucy lost her imperturbable comportment for the first time since opening her School for Unfortunate Females. Her mouth dropped open. She stared at Mr. Mowry for several speechless seconds while her heart did somersaults and her hands turned to ice.
“Do you want me to see him out?” Mr. Mowry’s brow wrinkled in concern. He stood a bit straighter. “I’ll have no truck with a man who upsets you, Miss Lancester. I’ll toss a marquis on his ear if you ask me to.”
She blinked twice. Mr. Mowry’s sweet defense of her shook her surprise long enough for her to remember she’d closed the book on Lord Montborne’s chapter. He didn’t get a chance to come groveling back. It was her epilogue. There was no room for a series’ ending, one that left the reader on tenterhooks to see how the next episode progressed.
“Yes, please.” Her voice was embarrassingly faint. She was sure she couldn’t stand.
He nodded once. A gleam twinkled in his eye. He was going to enjoy tossing a marquis on his ear, maybe more than was proper. Lucy’s hand wobbled as she unfolded the next letter in her stack. She didn’t see the contents, only the image of Roman’s face the last time she’d turned his proposal of marriage down.
He’d been crushed.
The air in the room suddenly seemed cloying. She pushed back from her chair so suddenly, it screeched across the tile. She went to the window and threw it open. December air flooded in. She let it flow over her, blindly watching the busy street below. Her school was on the outskirts of Bath, the most beautiful city in Britain. Roman couldn’t be here. This was her paradise. He was the villain she’d so heroically vanquished.