How to Seduce a Scoundrel by Vicky Dreiling Page A

added, “When you did not return to the ballroom, I suspected my nephew had done something to overset you.”
    Julianne picked at the covers. He had publicly rejected her. Pain sliced her heart again.
    “Will you not tell me what happened?” Hester said.
    She swallowed. “I do not want him to know.”
    “Of course not,” Hester said. “Perhaps if you confide in me, I might be able to help.”
    Her burning eyes welled with tears again. Hester founda fresh handkerchief in the drawer. Julianne dabbed at her eyes and haltingly told the story.
    Hester sighed. “I saw the way he looked at you during that waltz. It is not hopeless, dear.”
    “I have kept hope alive for four years,” Julianne said. “Every time he teased me, I convinced myself he was developing tender feelings. Nothing ever came of it. He does not love me, and he never will.”
    “He gave plenty of evidence that he desires you tonight. As I told you, that is the first step for a man.”
    He’d made it clear he didn’t want her. The thought sent a fresh jolt of pain to her heart.
    “Tomorrow, matters will not look so bleak.” Hester stood and drew the covers up to Julianne’s chin as if she were a child. “You are wounded, but you are more resilient than you believe. I promise all will work out.”
    She knew all was lost. “Thank you.”
    “I always wanted a daughter,” Hester said. “So you must allow me to pamper and spoil you.”
    Though Hester spoke in a light tone, Julianne heard the regret behind the words. “I apologize for all the trouble I caused,” she said.
    Hester rose. “You are exhausted and need to rest. Good night, dear.”
    After Hester left, Julianne stared up at the canopy, replaying every single event of the evening. When Hawk had gazed into her eyes, she’d thought he was at last showing his love for her.
    He’d humiliated her in front of everyone.
    She drew in a shuddering breath and swore to make him pay. Oh, yes, she would play the tease as Hester had suggested. Like Anne Boleyn, she would lead himmerry dance and hold him at arm’s length. She’d make him mad to possess her, and when the moment was right, she would laugh and claim he was practically a brother to her.
    The next afternoon, Julianne crumpled the page marred by ink blots and rubbed her swollen eyes. For the past hour, she’d struggled in her pitiful attempt to record Hester’s advice. She’d concluded Amy was right. The other belles suffered the same plight when it came to reluctant bachelors. But her head still ached from the wine, making it difficult to think.
    The soft ticking of the bedside clock drew her attention. Earlier, she’d sent missives to Georgette and Amy requesting they call upon her. Julianne feared their parents had refused to allow them to leave their homes after last night’s debacle. She recalled the way Ramsey had barely contained his fury upon seeing his sister weaving down the stairs. No doubt Georgette had gotten ill, too. Even the slightest case of nerves made her heave.
    Betty brought her a cup of tea. “It’s dosed with willow bark and will ease your headache.”
    “Thank you.” After the maid left, Julianne capped the inkwell and sipped her tea. She would try to write later when she felt better.
    The knocker banged downstairs, startling her. Her heart thudding, she wondered if Hawk had arrived. She hurried over to the dressing table to check her reflection in the mirror. Despite the frequent application of a cold, damp cloth, her eyes were still puffy. Drat it all. She didn’t want him to know she’d cried.
    A tap sounded at her door. When she answered it, afootman informed her Georgette and Amy had come to call. She exhaled in relief. “Show them up to my bedchamber,” she said.
    A few minutes later, her friends entered. “I’m surprised your parents allowed you to call upon me,” Julianne said.
    Georgette, who looked remarkably well, straightened her neckline. “My brother made empty threats, but in the