Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Arabella nodded shyly.

“Lord Parker.” Meredith sighed. There were days when she knew far more than was good for her. Parker disliked inexperienced talkative women, but he did like to spank his bed partners until they couldn’t sit easily. He would not be the best choice for a virgin.

Meredith turned Arabella toward a mirror and began to unbutton her gown while she wondered how to warn her off that particular man. Given the lady’s willingness to court scandal for a friend, Meredith had to protect her from making a grave mistake. “Consider someone else. Please. He’s much more dangerous than he appears to be. Choose someone who will talk to you, too, and yet has the experience to make the tryst enjoyable. Surely there is another you know to be in London for the winter, or even the coming season. Even the most scandalous rake should have the skills to hold a conversation first. An unfeeling and selfish scoundrel is not for you. Parker thinks only of himself. You want… a man who can look at you and turn your legs to jelly. Do you know someone who fits that description?”

Arabella nodded so fast her ringlets jiggled. “But he’s considered rather a rake.”

Meredith laid the prim, expensive gown over a chair and worked on loosening the lady’s corset. “Is he intelligent?”

“Yes, he’s rather eloquent on the topics discussed in parliament. When he speaks, he draws a crowd and not just ladies come to listen.”

Meredith tossed the corset aside to cover her urge to laugh. Arabella sounded as smitten as any debutante. She hoped this fellow was as good as he sounded. “Is he handsome? Clean in his habits?”

“He’s rather devastating when he smiles. Many a lady has ruined their reputations to be with him. Sadly, he rarely smiles in my direction.”

Arabella could be describing Grayling’s unsmiling twin. Meredith shook herself. She’d done enough fantasizing about Grayling’s many charms to last a lifetime. “And you’d like this intelligent rake to look again?”

A dreamy smile flittered over Arabella’s face, but then she glanced down at her hands. She twisted a ring on her third finger. “I would, but I doubt my chances. Perhaps I should forget about it after all. What would such a man want with me?”

Meredith slipped her finger beneath Arabella’s chin and lifted her face to her reflection. “When I’m done, he won’t just be looking and smiling. With luck, you’ll have him eating from the palm of your hand and whimpering like a puppy for more of your attention.”

She caught Meredith’s hand and peered at the ring. A wedding ring. That had to go first. “There is nothing more off-putting to a man than a reminder of the one who came before. Trust me on this. Leave the ring behind when you go to London.”

“Are you sure?” Arabella worried at her lip as she tugged the simple gold band from her finger. She stared at it for a long time and then met Meredith’s gaze in the mirror. “I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I’m in search of a husband.”

“They say rakes make the best husbands.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a wife again.” Arabella shook her head violently. “I’d just like to discover what every other bride knows.”

The ringlets had to go, too. Too much like a debutante and too difficult for a man to take down in the heat of passion without ripping half her hair from her head. The one thing Meredith had discovered in her line of work was that the faster a woman could be divested of her embellishments, the better.

“And I don’t want to be a mistress. What a pair we make.” Meredith slid the fine chemise from the countess’s body and stood back. Not an ounce of undesirable flesh anywhere. Arabella had a body any woman would covet and any man would crave for his own. Whoever the gentleman was that Arabella had set her sights on would be a lucky man. When the countess moved to cover her breasts, Meredith stopped her. “You must grow accustomed to nudity before others. If you’re not, it will give away your inexperience. I assume you don’t plan to tell your intelligent rake of your untested state until after the deed is done?”

“I can hardly tell you, let alone consider telling him or any other man.”

Meredith nodded and circled the woman. “Probably for the best, but I should warn you that he might have enough experience to guess. Now, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but what exactly do you know of a man’s intimate proportions?”

A fiery wash of color swept over Arabella’s cheeks and Meredith chuckled softly at her obvious distress. “That little?”

“I’ve never even seen.”

Meredith smoothed her hands down Arabella’s arms and rubbed away the woman’s gooseflesh. “There is no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure I can impart enough information that when the time comes you don’t squawk like a scared infant and run away. All right, let’s start with the easy part, your wardrobe for the season, and go from there. If you are going to catch a rake’s eye, you need to be properly dressed for battle.”

Arabella frowned. “I didn’t think it would be so complicated.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “Men make everything complicated. Even the simplest seductions can be derailed by a man’s sense of honor. Grayling is proof of that.”

“Did he seduce you?”

“You know, I’m still not exactly sure which one of us seduced the other.” She grinned at Arabella. “It wasn’t anything like I planned, but the end result is all that matters.”

Arabella glanced at her slyly, amusement hovering behind her green eyes, but wisely kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t Meredith’s fault she’d fallen victim to a dangerously wicked earl. Arabella would find out just how hard they were to master in due time.

CHAPTER 12

THE STEADY KNOCK on Constantine’s study door sent his pulse skyrocketing. He glanced toward the trembling wood and swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe the promises he’d made yesterday to Miss Clark and the hours since had made him question his decision. Could he really keep his hands to himself and what the devil could Arabella know that was worth imparting to his new governess?

Constantine stood, tugged his waistcoat down, smoothed his hair, and then cursed himself. What did it matter what he looked like for Miss Clark? She was here for his children not for his pleasure. He sat back down again. “Come,” he called.