Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

“No. No, don’t. Let him fly.”


Yes, he thought as he watched her flirt with the errant bird, what Lily needed was confidence. And oddly enough, confessing his attraction had been a first step. He should have thought of it long ago. Nothing made a woman more desirable than an awareness of her own desirability. He could note the difference already. A saucy c**k of the hip, a mischievous crook of the finger. The subtle drop of her shoulders that emphasized her bosom. She was aware of her body in ways she hadn’t been this time yesterday. With progress like this in a day’s time, by next week she’d have the men of London at her feet.

And yes, the reality of that would turn Julian into a snarling, jealous beast. But for Lily’s sake, he would take his turn in the cage.

“So will you help me?” she asked him suddenly. “Practice dancing for the assembly, just a bit? Perhaps tomorrow, or—”

“No.”

She blinked.

“Not tomorrow, and not just a bit.” Smiling, he moved forward to take her hand. “We’ll start right now. We’ll practice for as long as it takes. And then, at the assembly—Lily, you will show them all.”

Chapter Eight

Damn, it was good to have a direction. Real, physical work he could do for her. Even if that work was just shoving aside some furniture and rolling up the carpet while a parrot taunted from above.

Julian led her to the pianoforte in the corner. After removing an arrangement of lilies from the top, he ran one hand over the polished wood veneer. This was a remarkably fine instrument. Far superior to any he’d learned on in his youth. He’d never had a single lesson, nor even much opportunity to practice. But after a few hours sitting down to the thing—testing the keys and experimenting with intervals, learning how the contraption worked—he’d understood it and had simply been able to play. He could hear a tune with his ears, and his fingers just knew how to translate it into the proper sequence of keys.

Some said God had given him a gift. To Julian, it was much the same as his ability to reproduce voices—just one more function of having acutely trained ears. From the earliest days of his life, listening had always been his paramount task. He’d always been alert, always been listening. Their lives had depended on it.

“Julian,” she teased as he sat down to the instrument, “you know actual music isn’t required. Not for me, anyhow.”

“Humor me,” he said, shaking his fingers loose. “How shall we begin?”

“The quadrille? Surely balls still begin with the quadrille?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Place your hands flat atop the pianoforte. Lean against it, if you will.”

She complied.

“Now close your eyes.”

She did so, smiling.

His breath caught in his chest. “God, Lily. You’re so damned beautiful it hurts.”

She didn’t react, of course. He’d known she wouldn’t. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t help testing her. It was the strangest thing. He’d been that way with his mother, too. Always testing her with outlandish comments made to her back: “Look sharp, it’s an elephant!” and such.

Setting the memory aside and placing his fingers to the keys, Julian played several bars of Le Pantalon, the first figure of the quadrille. When he stopped, Lily opened her eyes.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“A bit unpleasant. It tickles all along my teeth.”

“But the rhythm. Did you recognize it? Can you visualize the steps?”

She nodded.

“Again,” he said. She closed her eyes, and he played through the same section, taking it a few bars further this time. Her fingers tapped along with the beat.

“Once more,” he directed at the end. “This time, eyes open.” He played straight through to the end of the figure, holding eye contact with Lily as together they recited the steps. “One, two, turn …,” “Now to the corner,” and so forth. At the conclusion of the sequence, he rose and offered his hand. “Are you ready to try?”

Nodding her agreement, she took his hand. Together they moved to the center of the room and queued up facing one another.

Their first attempt was over before it even began. They started with a deep, stately curtsy and bow, but when they lifted their heads, they found the parrot sitting on the floor between them, cocking his head and blinking a perplexed, beady eye. Lily dissolved into helpless laughter while Julian shooed the creature away.

They tried again, this time making it through a small section of the dance.