A Game of Persuasion: Extended Prologue for the Art of Ruining a Rake (The Naughty Girls Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to have broken through the woman’s reticence. And what a lovely smile, too! This was the carefree, confident woman she remembered from the country.
    Suddenly, Lucy had three goals in life: Seduce Roman, open her school, and bring Miss Gray and Trestin back together.
    Lucy reached for the wine decanter. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Now, you’re too old to attract a man? Bosh. My brother fell head over heels for you the minute he saw you.”
    Miss Gray allowed her wineglass to be refilled. “Rusticating in the country limited his options. He wouldn’t have looked twice at me in London.”
    “Younger men enjoy older women,” Lucy reasoned, refusing to believe her brother would have been swept away as quickly by a proper, eligible miss as he’d been by Miss Gray. Helpfully, and because she couldn’t resist saying his name aloud, she added, “Roman kept a mistress twice his age when he was twenty.”
    “Perhaps it’s me,” Miss Gray said, grimacing. “Perhaps I am simply not attracted to young men anymore.”
    “Trestin is younger.”
    Miss Gray gifted Lucy with another exasperated smile. “Your astuteness is wearing.” Then she placed her wineglass on the tray and brushed crumbs of cheese from her skirt. “If I don’t occupy you one way, you’ll think of other ways to entertain yourself. Why don’t we try something simple? Here, finish up, and we will use the mirror.”
    “But I don’t see a mirror—Oh.”
    Miss Gray inched over and tugged at a satin sheet covering a large mirror propped against the wall. As it was unveiled, it glinted in the sunlight. The entire room was visible in the reflection, though Lucy suspected it wasn’t placed there to make the room seem larger.
    She let Miss Gray grab her hand and pull her onto her knees so that they knelt side-by-side. No two women could look more different: Miss Gray with her luminous, peach-colored complexion, burnished red hair, and generous bosom, looked radiant even with her hair pulled back into a simple knot. Lucy was merely ordinary beside her. Black hair, brown eyes, spindly arms and small breasts that could easily fit into her own palms. It wouldn’t matter if she wore bloodred silk; she would always be plain.
    “Lesson one,” Miss Gray said in Lucy’s ear, “unless you have overly displayed your bosom, a man looks at your face first. Then his gaze travels. After he has perused you once, he does so again, this time in reverse. For this reason a woman must be sure her entire body is ready for a man at all times. If only one asset is to his liking, he will generally dismiss the woman. But a woman with many appealing characteristics will receive more notice. It is the sum, rather than the parts, which attracts him.”
    Good advice for a woman with plentiful assets to display. Not terribly helpful to Lucy. “I have a plain face,” she pointed out, in case Miss Gray hadn’t realized it.
    Miss Gray’s murmur tickled the outer edge of Lucy’s ear. “No woman is entirely plain or entirely beautiful. It is the confidence with which you hold yourself that affects how others see you.”
    Intrigued, Lucy arched her back straighter. “You’re saying I have the ability to make myself beautiful?”
    Miss Gray’s lips parted. In the reflection, she leaned in. Gently, her eyes heavy with promise, she asked Lucy, “Have you ever been kissed?”
    Lucy’s heart skipped. Kit Whitechapel had stolen a kiss after church one Sunday. He wasn’t Roman, of course, but he was tall and had a ready smile. She’d been sixteen.
    Her voice barely sounded above a whisper as she said, “Yes.”
    Miss Gray cupped Lucy’s elbows and lowered her voice. “Did you enjoy it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Was he gentle?”
    Lucy half laughed, half sighed. “No.”
    Miss Gray’s velvety chuckle sent gooseflesh down Lucy’s arms. “Thank goodness.” She tipped her head even closer to Lucy’s. “Did he make you feel