Scandalously Yours (Hellions of High Street 1)

He shook his head. “You are acquainted with the gentry in the surrounding area. There are no children near his age. And what with estate duties and my Parliamentary responsibilities in Town, I am often away. I daresay the lad gets lonely.”

“Only if he is idle, Wrexham.” Lady Serena straightened the pleats of her skirts. “I believe a well-or

ganized routine is the best thing for a child. After his daily lessons are done, you might engage the vicar to provide spiritual instruction, and then, if there are additional free hours, I don’t doubt that there a great many educational books or games in the schoolroom to occupy his time.”

“He is only ten—”

“I see you are an indulgent father,” she replied before he could go on. “And it is all to your credit. But it doesn’t do to spoil a child. Indeed, my father has always held that is never too early for a young gentleman to learn the responsibilities of his station in life.” A small smile softened her criticism. “Good Heavens, I am not suggesting you put young Prescott on bread and water. I am merely saying that you may want to ensure that he keeps occupied with more appropriate activities. And company.”

“Yes, yes. No doubt you are right.”

Yet John couldn’t quite dampen the niggling suspicion that Lady Serena would not consider splashing about in a rowboat appropriate behavior for a future earl. His late wife had found nothing wrong in coming home soaked to the bone from catching frogs, or in voicing laughter rather than reproaches as her young son and half a dozen puppies tracked mud across the expensive carpets.

But he forced himself to swallow such thoughts. It was grossly unfair to make comparisons.

Lady Serena Wells might lack Meredith’s natural exuberance and warmth, but she had a good many admirable qualities of her own. Poised. Polished. Pretty. John began composing a mental checklist. More importantly, she was sensible enough to converse on more than the latest fashions and gossip.

Repressing a shudder, John recalled all the simpering young things who had been pushed his way during his last visit to London.

So, he assured himself, he was fortunate to have made the acquaintance of his neighbor’s cousin, who had arrived several weeks ago for an extended visit. The daughter of a marquess, Lady Serena possessed a peerless pedigree to go with her faultless manners. That her dowry left something to be desired, due to the gaming habits of her father, was unimportant. He didn’t need to remarry for money. And if her demeanor tended to mirror the cool marble smoothness of her profile, that was perfectly well and good. At the advanced age of thirty-four, John was the first to acknowledge that he was also rather set in his ways.

Lightening didn’t strike twice.

Which might be all for the best, he reflected, as another twinge of guilt stirred deep within his chest. After the first blaze of attraction had burned down to the comfortable glowing coals of everyday life, he had come to wonder whether he and his late wife would ever share more than a sunny but superficial marriage. Meredith had cared naught for serious subjects like politics or philosophy, which had left him feeling…

Unhappy wasn’t precisely the word. It was a far more complicated emotion than that.

But John shook off his brooding, deciding it was best to delve no deeper into such thoughts. It was unrealistic to dream of a perfect partner. He was older and wiser and had learned to temper his expectations. So while there was no real spark of passion between him and Lady Serena, he had come to the conclusion that what they had in common augured well for an excellent match.

It was time to put memories and recriminations aside and think of the future.

Lady Serena would make a perfect countess, bringing order and companionship to his life, and a much-needed female figure of authority for Prescott.

John sighed again. From the atrocious display of behavior he had just witnessed, it was none too soon for the latter.

“Are you alright, Wrexham?”

John turned his exhale into a slight cough. “Er, just something caught in my throat.”

“Ah.” The look of concern smoothed from her brow. “Thank you for tea. I ought to be returning the Close, for I know Aunt Clara is anxious to have the embroidery thread I purchased in the village.” She set aside her cup and made to rise. “Will you be attending Squire Tresham’s gathering next week? Or does the upcoming debate in the House of Lords require your presence in Town?”

“I may have to run up to London for several days, but will make a point of returning so that I may have the honor of a waltz with you. I trust you will save me the first one.”

Her lashes lowered demurely. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

“And mine, I assure you.”

Lady Serena accepted his arm, resting her hand upon his sleeve with just the proper amount of pressure. As he escorted her and her maid to the waiting carriage, John congratulated himself on having come to a tentative decision about the future. Sensible, steady—the two of them were really a perfect match in that they were each in complete command of their emotions.

We rub together without creating any friction.

Unlike a certain other recent encounter.

For an instant, the unbidden memory of a smoke-swirled room and a sultry mouth voicing highly improper innuendos flared up, its spark leaving a trail of tingling heat on his skin…

Shaking off the unsettling sensation, he assured himself that once the current political battle in Parliament was settled, he would begin his courtship in earnest.

Lady Serena and I rub together without creating any friction, he repeated to himself.