The Perfect Seduction Read online

  She hadn't been any more sincere in this apology than she had in the one she'd offered before. A most interesting woman, this Mrs. Treadwell. On the surface of things, she held to social expectations, but, beneath all the polite niceties, she didn't honor the rules any more than he did. A woman after his own heart. He was going to enjoy having her around just for the breath of fresh feminine air she provided.

  "I expect my nieces to generally conduct themselves as do other young ladies of their social class," Carden replied deliberately skirting her query. "I'll leave Sawyer to inform you of the daily household schedule. I'll plan to dine in on a fairly regular basis for the duration of your stay. In the interest of creating a sense of family for them, they will dine with me. Please have my nieces dress appropriately for the evening meal."

  "Of course."

  "You'll be expected to join us, as well," Carden went on, working to contain his smile, "so see that you have suitable attire for the occasion. At my expense, of course."

  She hesitated and he could practically bear the mental wheels whirling in her brain.

  "Thank you," she said stiffly.

  He tilted his head and grinned. "That was painful for you to say, wasn't it?"

  If her heart hadn't been skittering all over her chest, she might have acted on the urge to slap him across his very handsome cheek. Instead. she drew her shoulders back, lifted her chin. and fixed her gaze on a point just over his incredibly wide shoulder. "I've never been in employ, Mr. Reeves. I'm not at all comfortable with it."

  "You'll adjust in time."

  "I doubt that very much." she retorted icily.

  He shrugged. "If you're truly uncomfortable with the notion, perhaps-we could negotiate an exchange of sorts. A service for a service.'

  "Perhaps," Sera repeated dubiously. She could well imagine just what services be had in mind. As humiliating as it was being in employ, it was a condition far more honorable than being a decidedly temporary mistress. She took a deliberate step back, asking, "Are we concluded?"

  "I believe so."

  ''Then I'll return to your nieces and the affable Mr. Terrell," she declared, turning and starting for the doors.

  The handle was in her hand, escape just a mere second away, when he called out, "Oh, there is one more thing."

  She paused, waiting, but when he said nothing further, she drew a deep breath and turned back to face him. "And that would be?"

  His smile was devilish again. "Introductions may be necessary from time to time. Do you have a Christian name?"

  "Yes."

  Carden laughed outright. Damn if she didn't give as good as she got. "What is it?"

  "Seraphina."

  "For the angels?" he asked, his grin so wide his face actually hurt.

  The color was flooding her cheeks again when she opened the door and stepped out of the room saying simply, "My parents had illusions."

  "I don't," he whispered as he watched her pull the door closed behind her. "Seraphina Treadwell." He liked the sound of it; it rolled off his tongue very nicely. He liked the woman who bore the name, too. She was so delightfully different from all the other women in his world. No coy eyelash-batting. No missish airs. No obedient subservience. No pretending that she was physically unaware of him. Seraphina Treadwell challenged his mind and made his blood race. Oh, yes, he was definitely going to enjoy having her under his roof for a time.

  Pushing himself off his desk, he crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. Lifting his glass toward the doors, he said softly, "To the seduction of exotic angels."

  CHAPTER 4

  Sera stood at the window of her room and listened. While all three of them had rendered dramatic protests over retiring for an afternoon nap. the girls had nevertheless gone to their nicely appointed room-where they'd managed to resist all of two minutes before slipping off into their dreams. Alone in the silence, Seraphina looked out over the gloomy outlines of London's rooftops and assured herself that she'd made the right decision, the only one she could have made. It didn't matter that London was dreary, damp, and bone-numbingly cold. Seeing the sun and blue skies wasn't significant among her concerns. Being comfortably warm wasn't nearly as important as making the girls' future secure. She could light a fire in the hearth if she wanted.

  And she could leave London, too. Eventually. Sera slowly shook her head. To think that, like all far-flung Britons, she'd hoped to come here someday, to make what amounted to a holy pilgrimage to the center of the British Empire. Now that she had accomplished the quest, she couldn't help but think that the dream was ever so much nicer than the reality. England certainly was an interesting place to visit, but, from what she could tell to this point, it didn't hold much promise of ever feeling like home.

  Not that she truly had one of those, she reminded herself.

  Her parents' house in Jamaica had been taken for unpaid taxes. The tent that had housed them in Belize had long since rotted away. What Gerald had considered a suitable dwelling had no doubt collapsed during the first heavy rain of the past winter. It had been on the verge of doing so for the last two years. Very much like their marriage.

  Sera sighed and managed a smile of sorts. The very best part of being in London was that it would be the last place on earth Gerald would think to look for her. Her smile faded and she crossed her arms over her midriff to ward off a deepening chill. Gerald was dead. She was free of him, free of the humiliation and the poverty. God had taken pity on her, rewarded her for having endured. Gerald Treadwell and the misery of an arranged, loveless marriage were in the past. Never again would she willingly travel down that path.

  Which, she suspected, Carden Reeves knew instinctively.

  Her mother had always maintained that men had a sixth sense when it came to assessing the prospects for casual seduction, that they could tell by merely looking which women were in the marriage market and which viewed matrimony as nothing more than human bondage.

  The latter-strictly from their point of view, of course made for much safer liaisons. From the female point of view ... Carden Reeves was clearly the kind of man her mother had admonished her to avoid at all costs.

  Sera smiled weakly. Her mother hadn't mentioned how flattering the attention of such a man could be. Or how exciting, The assumption that the strength of her moral fiher would prevent her from being dazzled appeared, at the moment, to be not only too optimistic, but also a bit naive. Thank heavens for the power of good judgment and common sense; they were her best defenses against weakness and temptation.

  She'd once been weak and surrendered to the temptation of what had been offered as 'a certain future. She'd learned her Lessons well-albeit the hard way. Her life had begun anew the moment she'd led the girls up the gangplank and set sail for England.

  Today and all of her tomorrows were hers to make of as she willed, She could and would make her life a happy and fulfilling one. Sera rubbed her bands briskly over her upper arms, turned away from the window, and quietly added, “Or freeze in the attempt."

  ****

  The fire was burning brightly and, best of all, providing a lovely sheet of warmth when someone knocked on her door. Seraphina frowned at the panel and regretfully abandoned her seat on the hearth. The chill returned midway across the room and was already settling back into her marrow by the time she opened the door.

  A tall, white-haired man stood at stiff attention on the other side. His arms at his side, his gloved fingers curled slightly back into his palms, he looked over her head, cleared his throat softly, and said, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Treadwell. I am Sawyer."

  Ah, yes, the man whom Carden Reeves had said was going to inform her of the daily household schedule.

  "Good afternoon, sir."

  "Mr. Reeves requests your presence in the parlor to meet the new housekeeper."

  There had been no servants in her childhood and she wasn't quite sure how one was supposed to speak to a butler. Hoping that she wasn't botching things too badly, she replied, "Please tell
Mr. Reeves that I will be along very shortly. And thank you, Sawyer."

  "Very good." His gaze dropped just long enough for her to note that he had dark brown eyes that were clear and quick like those of a bird. Once again he looked over her head and cleared his throat. "And may I extend my welcome to Haven House. If there is anything 1 can do to be of service to you, please do not hesitate to ask."

  Haven House? If ever there was an aptly named place ... "Thank you."

  "Dinner is served promptly at seven. Will you and Mr. Reeves's nieces be dining downstairs this evening? Or would you prefer to have your meal served in the schoolroom?"

  Carden Reeves had issued a command and she wasn't in a position to disobey. "We'll dine downstairs, Sawyer."

  "I will inform Cook." He bowed, again met her gaze only momentarily, saying, "Madam," and turned and marched away.

  Sera quietly closed the door, listened for sounds of the girls stirring, and, hearing only the popping warmth of the fire, sighed and resigned herself to following in Sawyer's dignified wake.

  She found Carden Reeves precisely where Sawyer had said she would. He was standing in front of the unlit hearth in the parlor, his arm lying causally along the mantel, the very picture of wealth and ease.

  He straightened at the sight of her and smiled broadly.

  "Ah, Seraphina, do come in."

  Seraphina? She barely had time to mentally register the familiarity. As he spoke, a rather large mass of black rose from the settee and turned toward her. The woman was of middling height, but with wide shoulders and a bosom that filled the .bodice of her black gabardine dress all the way to the waist. She had a pleasant smile that reached to her soft brown eyes and waves of wiry gray hair that peeked out from beneath the edge of her black straw hat. A resilient woman in mourning, Sera decided as she returned the smile.

  "Allow me to introduce the new housekeeper," Carden began. "Seraphina, this is Mrs. Blaylock. She comes with impeccable references and considerable experience. Mrs. Blaylock, may I present Mrs. Seraphina Treadwell, late of Belize, and the companion of my young nieces.'

  Mrs. Blaylock dropped a brief curtsy. "It's a pleasure, madam."

  Again Sera regretted the lack of servants in her earlier life. Mrs. Blaylock, however, didn't seem to be as formal as Sawyer. Trusting her to overlook any social gaffes, Sera replied, "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Blaylock. Welcome to the household."

  Carden didn't give either of them a chance to exchange additional pleasantries. "Mrs. Blaylock will be bringing her daughter, Anne, with her to serve as the upstairs maid., I've instructed her to hire within the week a second girl to serve the downstairs. Do you have any preferences for the type of young woman she selects?"

  As though she knew anything at all about such matters, Sera silently scoffed. Not that she was willing to publicly admit her ignorance. It was for precisely these kinds of occasions that people had invented good manners. She met his gaze and confidently replied, "I trust that Mrs. Blaylock well knows the requirements of the job and is perfectly capable of hiring someone who will perform their duties to the satisfaction of all."

  His smile said he recognized her effort for the evasion that it was. His wink was fleeting but congratulatory nonetheless.

  "Mrs. Blaylock," he said, motioning broadly toward the parlor doors and the foyer beyond, "I will see you, your daughter, and your respective belongings tomorrow morning, then?"

  Taking her cue, the new housekeeper bobbed another curtsy, saying, "Very good, sir. And thank. you, sir." She had taken only two steps toward her exit when Sawyer magically appeared in the foyer, her cloak draped over his left arm.

  Sera was watching the two of them move toward the front door then Carden Reeves quietly asked, "Are you not happy with her, Seraphina?"

  "She seems to be a nice woman," Sera replied coolly slowly squaring up to him. "If you say her references are excellent, I'll take your word on it."

  ''Then why the look of displeasure?" She took a fortifying breath. "I don't recall having granted you permission to address me by my Christian name."

  "You didn't." He grinned. "Seraphina."

  "Mr. Reeves-"

  "Carden."

  Sera sighed and forced a smile. Firmly, pointedly, she began again. Mr. Reeves-"

  "Car-den."

  "I am not your nieces' companion," she countered, temporarily abandoning her first effort for a new one. "I am theIr governess. As I recall, we came to that agreement less than three hours ago."

  "Yes," he agreed, nodding and moving slowly closer "but you expressed some discomfort over the status of employee; and I've been giving the matter some thought with the Idea of how to make you feel better about it all. I think that 'companion' works rather nicely, don't you?"

  “Why are you the least little bit concerned over my feelIngs on the matter?" she asked warily, suddenly feeling too warm.

  "I would prefer that you be happy and comfortable."

  Resisting the urge to tug at her collar she took a step back, asking,”Why would you care?"

  He leaned a hip against the table behind the settee and crossed his arms over his chest. His smile was bright. And roguishly inviting. "Are you always so ungrateful?"

  "I'm not ungrateful," she corrected, her heart racing at an embarrassing rate. "I'm suspicious."

  "All right, then," he said, chuckling. "Are you always so suspicious?" " .

  "Yes, in point of fact, I am. And especially of handsome men who go out of their way to be charming.

  He tilted his head to the side in that boyish way of his. ''Why?'' ."

  A direct question required an equally direct answer. It bas been my experience. that men do not do things for others-especially women - out of the kindness of their hearts," she supplied honestly. "They are, instead, generally motivated by hopes of being rewarded m one way or another."

  "You haven't known very many gentlemen in your life, have you?"

  Seraphina considered the man in front of her and laughingly replied. "I've always found gentlemen to be the worst of the lot. Their refined manners tend to serve as both an excellent disguise and an effective castration."

  'Wolves in sheep's clothing."

  "A most accurate description, Mr. Reeves."

  "Carden" he instantly amended. His eyes sparkled and his smile broadened yet another dazzling degree. "And just what reward db you think. I might be hoping to get from you?"

  "I can't say." Or rather she wouldn't, she silently added. Ladies didn't discuss such matters with men. Ever.

  "You don't know me well enough?"

  ''That's a fair statement," she allowed, relieved that he'd been mannered enough to afford her the avenue of evasion.

  He nodded, studied the carpet at her feet for a long moment, and then lifted his gaze to meet hers. His smile still bright and broad, .he straightened. saying, "Since we're to be existing under the same roof for the immediate future, it would probably be in the best interests of harmony for us to become better acquainted, would it not?"

  Her heart skittered and her mind raced. Better acquainted? Her every instinct said that even the least bit of familiarity was a dangerous thing where Carden Reeves was concerned. The man didn't strike her as the sort to have female acquaintances. In fact, were she pressed to wager, she'd hazard that the women in his life could be divided into two broad categories: paramours of his past and those of his future. Even Mrs. Blaylock had cause for concern. Heaven help her daughter, Anne.

  "And then there are the girls to consider, as well," he went on. "We must work together in order to see that their needs are met in a timely and proper manner. To my thinking, good communication and a full understanding of each other would be requirements of achieving that end. Don't you agree?"

  It was a transparent ploy, using her devotion to his nieces to achieve his own ends. It was just the sort of thing she should have expected of a dedicated rake. "I recognize manipulation when I see it, Mr. Reeves," she said. "And I find-"

  "Ca rd en", he corr
ected yet again, the brilliance of his smile undampened by her rebuke. "And since you can see through me so clearly, I trust that you'll be able to adequately protect yourself. Would you care for a tour of the public rooms of the house? There are several of them which I'm sure you'll want to use in the course of the girls' education."

  The man simply didn't stop. Like a hurricane, he held to his course, relentlessly plowing his way through all attempts to deter him. Battling him on every little point had proven to be not only exhausting, but also fruitless. Better that she conserve her strength for the contests that truly mattered. A brief tour would be fine," she said, relenting.

  ''When would you like to undertake it? After dinner, perhaps?"

  He presented his arm. "Why delay? There’s no time like the present."

  Good manners lay in tucking her arm around his and walking at his side. Good sense lay in ignoring his gesture and following at least a half-dozen paces to the rear- well out of arm's reach. What would her mother have advised her to do? Sera wondered. Neither, she realized. Maria Magdalena Miller would have reminded her daughter that she was in this predicament because she hadn't remained in Belize to stoically await the emergence of her husband from the jungle. A good wife would have never set out on her own course. If she now found herself in a difficult situation then it was of her own making and thus fully deserved.

  Carden watched the emotions play across her features. Surprise, wariness, and then confusion. And now ... Anger judging by the set: of her jaw and the defiant light blazing in the depths of her eyes. He braced himself, knowing that while he hadn't overtly pressed the bounds of propriety, he'd definitely given them a solidly oblique push. Seraphina Treadwell would be perfectly within rights to pin back his ears.

  To his everlasting surprise, she stepped close and slipped her arm around his, resting her hand genteelly on his forearm. The color in her cheeks. high since the moment she'd come into the room, was deepening by the second. Concerned that she might reconsider her acceptance and withdraw if he gave her so much as half a chance, he immediately moved out of the room with her.