“I suppose there’s nothing for it now, old boy,” said Warren. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have hosted such a prolonged and lascivious party at Somerton.”

“I’ll sack the whole staff at Somerton for their talk,” Hunter said. “I’m a grown man. I can bedevil whores and doxies if I like.”

“Nonsense. It’s time to grow up,” said Arlington with mock gravity. “And this betrothal has been on the books for an eternity. The Lady Aurelia Dormouse—er—Dumont must be eager to set up at your side.”

“Help me find someone else,” he pleaded over their laughter. “Some pretty girl. I’ll take her into the study and ruin her. I’ll take her out to the gardens and—”

“Tie her to a tree and whip her bottom?” August nodded. “I think that bypasses betrothal and constitutes marriage in certain shires.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to escape a life with Lady Dormouse. For God’s sake, I don’t even know what she looks like. They’re hiding her in some corner, no doubt, until just before the announcement.”

“Look at that bit of goods.” Warren jerked a chin at the corner. A young woman in a pale blue gown with glittering sapphires at her neck stared back at the handsome blond earl. Damn, why must Warren’s good looks captivate each and every woman of the ton? The young lady in question was practically in a swoon under his friend’s regard. Hunter was uncomfortably aware of how rough and inelegant he must look beside him, with his exceptional height, and broad shoulders. The courtesans liked his build, but he’d heard it whispered by the ladies au salon that he was oversized and coarse.

He scowled at the young chit, annoyed to see she was everything a man like him desired. Her bosom pressed round and pretty as a peach from the constriction of her fitted bodice, while the skirts of her dress flared out over visible hips. No slim, lithe thing, this one. Her hair was glossy and full, rich honey-gold waves curling over her shoulders, a voluptuous temptation framing her innocent gaze. He would like to touch those curls, run his fingers through them. He’d like to grab her and subdue her with a kiss that would leave her far less innocent than she’d started out.

“She’s got her eye on you, chap,” said Warren.

“Her eyes are on you,” he ground out. “You rotting pretty peacock.”

“Go to her.” He gave his friend a nudge. “Look at that body. You can see she’s got a smashing figure, even with the petticoats.”

“Yes, go dance with her, Towns,” August prompted. “No time to lose.”

“I’m going to dance her right out of her reputation, and that’s not going to happen here in front of a thousand eyes,” said Hunter. “I’ll draw her off somewhere and ruin her so the other betrothal will be off.”

“You’ll have to marry her then,” Warren pointed out. “Do you dislike the idea of Lady Dormouse so very much?”

“I loathe the idea of Lady Dormouse, especially being forced into marrying her. It’s the principle of the thing.” He straightened his coat and nodded toward the woman in blue, who seemed more and more alluring. “This pretty piece of arse will do just as well, if I have to marry.”

“Where then?” asked Arlington, stopping him with a hand on his arm. “Where shall we bring everyone so you can be caught in the midst of an illicit embrace?”

Hunter thought a moment. “The path beyond the gardens, the one on the left that leads to the follies. Plenty of moonlight there for discovery. Anyone know who she is?” Several high born gents were paying court to her, ranging around with languid gazes. “Is she betrothed to someone else?”

“Would she be looking at you that way if she was?” Warren murmured.

A flush rose beneath the points of Hunter’s cravat. She was staring at him, really, with an arousing, fascinated expression of...dread. So she’d heard about him and his friends, perhaps heard about their famous parties. Most of the young ladies had, as in Stay away from those dangerous gentlemen. The four of them were as controversial as they were eligible. It was good that she knew his reputation. She would understand even before they married that he was a certain type of gentleman, namely the type of gentleman who didn’t stay quietly at home.

“Your mother’s headed this way,” said Arlington, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s now or never. Lure Miss Pretty Arse out the back door and around to the gardens. Work a little of your dark, seductive magic.”