Too Scandalous to Wed by Alexandra Benedict Page A

And a man so scandalous as to be dubbed the ‘Duke of Rogues’ will always be a rogue, I’m afraid.”
    Henrietta’s fingers itched and burned to do a little pinching of her own. Only she wanted to pinch that willful lip of his until it bruised.
    Was he going to use that tired old line on her: once a rake, always a rake? Rot! If she could transform from whimsical to wanton, then surely one could go from rake to respectable.
    But before she could argue her point, Sebastian parted his lips to partake of the pastry, and all irascible thoughts deserted her.
    A warm heat invaded her belly, spread through her every limb. At the decadent sight, Henrietta scratched out the image of the pastry from her mind and put herself in its place. And at the thought of Sebastian doing to her what he was doing to that pastry, her whole body started to quiver.
    “Miss Ashby, are you all right?” He reached for a napkin to wipe his fingers, staring at her curiously the whole time.
    Henrietta had to fight really hard to find her voice and keep it from squeaking. “I’m quite well, my lord. I assure you.” She took a moment to gather her wits, then said, “You don’t think a man can reform? Why is that?”
    He shrugged. “Some of us are born good, Miss Ashby. And some of us are not. It’s the natural way of the world.”
    She screwed up her face. Where the devil did he get that idea from? But before she could ask, he said:
    “You’re up early this morning.”
    Her curiosity stifled, she fibbed, “I always rise early.”
    He wrinkled his brow. “Do you? I remember you rising closer to noon.”
    So true. And it was a bloody wretched business getting up with the cocks. But she’d no time to diddle away in bed while Ravenswood was in the house. She had until Twelfth Night to achieve her goal, and she was going to put every waking minute to good use.
    “There’s just so much to do today, my lord.”
    “Such as?”
    Such as seducing you , she thought impishly.
    “Well, there’s the skating party to organize,” she said. “My sisters and I have decided to take the children down to the pond for an afternoon of sport. I do hope you brought along your skates, my lord.”
    “I’m afraid not, Miss Ashby.”
    She waved a dismissive hand. “No matter. You can borrow Papa’s skates. He doesn’t use them anymore.”
    “Thank you for the offer, but I must decline.”
    “Rubbish! Why else would you come all this way to visit if not to enjoy the merry company?”
    He gave her a dubious look at that. Was she being too forward? Well, she had to get the dratted man to the frozen pond somehow. She was going to employ a new tactic today: scent.
    Scent was the strongest aphrodisiac, according to Madam Jacqueline. And Henrietta wholly agreed. Why, just standing next to Sebastian and breathing in the rich waft of rosemary and lemon had always made her woozy.
    Anyway, she’d coaxed from her brother-in-law the name of Sebastian’s favorite perfume. And it was time to put that knowledge to good use.
    “Come, Ravenswood, we are friends,” she persuaded him gently. “And friends often skate together.”
    “Do they now?”
    “Most assuredly.”
    He stared at her for a long while, then said, “With the children?”
    “And my sisters and their husbands. Even your brother Peter is joining in the revelry. So you see, you simply must attend.”
    After another lengthy pause, he finally sighed. “I’ve not skated in years.”
    “Fret not, my lord, I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”
     
    Sebastian landed on his arse—again.
    He’d had enough. Taking his lumbering self over to one of the fallen logs, he sat on the makeshift bench and unfastened the leather straps from his boots, discarded the skates.
    Feeling much steadier now that he had his own two feet back, Sebastian stretched his hands toward the fire sparking away in a large tin bucket.
    As he rubbed his frozen palms together, he let his eyes wander over the icy pond and the crowd