Page 3 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

“An aversion to brandy is not a mark of any lack of masculinity,” Adrian said. “I’ve seen the ruination that comes with overindulgence.”

Peterton opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. Not even one as insensitive as he would dare tease Adrian about his best friend, Will Blackstock, whose consumption of alcohol had brought about his death—that, and a woman.

“If Mrs. Huntington operates her establishment with any degree of respectability,” Adrian said, “she’ll not welcome a male guest.”

Peterton’s smile broadened. “She’s not expecting a male guest. All you need do when you arrive is put your renowned powers of persuasion to immediate use.”

“What if I’m refused admittance?”

Peterton laughed. “What’s more likely is that the Huntington woman will insist on chaperoning your quarry, giving you the chance to seduce both of them at once.” His eyes glittered with relish. “You must be tempted by the prospect of bagging a brace of birds, FitzRoy.”

For a fleeting moment the image flashed before Adrian’s mind’s eye—the image of a woman writhing beneath him while he fucked her thoroughly and completely, while another parted her thighs before his face, in offering, all ready for him to devour. A little refreshment, while he exerted himself…

Curse it!The wicked glint in Peterton’s eyes spoke of his understanding of Adrian’s train of thought. The blasted man was too good at seducing women. Peterton’s lack of morals meant he suffered no conscience or inhibitions and indulged in nothing but guilt-free pleasure.

Truth be told, once Peterton had succeeded in driving Mrs. Huntington out of Summerton Hall, he’d likely put the place to the same scandalous use he planned to accuse Mrs. Huntington of undertaking, and replace the harridans with a harem of harlots to service his every need.

And Adrian himself was likely to benefit from it—exclusive parties of debauchery.

The prospect was enough to make a man’s cock stiffen with anticipation.

But for now, he had to concentrate on the task in hand. He had, like all of them, sworn an oath to help Dominic, and honor dictated that he go through with it—or at least try to the best of his ability.

“What’s the woman’s name?” Adrian asked.

“Mrs. Black.”

“You’re expecting me to seduce a married woman?”

“She’s a widow,” Peterton said. “By all accounts, her husband fought at Waterloo—or some such—so you’ll have something else in common, besides a passion for music.” He licked his lips. “And, as we all know, a widow is the very best course to be served up at a banquet. For she has no virtue to protect and, assuming her late husband opened her eyes to the pleasures of the bedchamber, she’ll appreciate the attentions of a skilled artisan such as yourself.”

Peterton was right. With regard to bed sport, widows possessed the experience and often the desperation, which made them easy, guilt-free conquests.

Perhaps there might be some pleasure in seducing to order, after all.

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