A Valentine Wedding Read Online Free PDF Page B

last she’d heard, it had been a Lady Melrose. A woman of a certain age and a most definite reputation. The affairs of Lord Alasdair were frequently the latest
on-dit.
He was supposed to be penniless, but he lived like a man blessed with a considerable fortune. He was a rake. An insouciant, enterprising, utterly charming and irredeemable rake. And society loved him for it.

    The house on Half Moon Street contained a twisted tangle of narrow corridors and small, low-pitched rooms. The fire in the small parlor abovestairs was smoking, the candles guttering as the January wind forced its way under the ill-fitting door and around the windowpanes.
    The two men in the room stood huddled in greatcoats around the fire. One of them had a rasping cough that was not helped by the smoke.
    “This is an infernal climate!” he said. “I don’t know how you can live in it, Paolo.” He spoke English but with a heavy accent and addressed a much younger man, dressed fashionably in pale gray pantaloons, a coat of blue superfine, a gray silk waistcoat. His gold-tasseled hessians gleamed in the firelight.
    “One becomes used to it, Luiz.” The younger man shrugged, sounding almost bored. He had no trace of an accent, but there was something about his features,the olive skin and dark eyes, that lent an exotic cast to his appearance.
    “To be sure, you were born here,” Luiz said. “I suppose it makes a difference.” He didn’t sound convinced. He raised an eyeglass and examined his companion. “You certainly look the part. As fine as any of these London gentlemen. You think you can play it?”
    “I can play it,” Paolo said with the same slight air of boredom. “I can play the dandy as well as any of them.” He laughed, his lip curling. “I can safely promise that no one will ever suspect the truth of my origins.”
    The door opened behind them and both men turned from the fire. A tall, imposing figure entered, kicking the door closed behind him. He drew his caped greatcoat around him. “It’s cold enough in here to freeze the balls off a brass monkey,” he stated crisply, with only the faintest trace of an accent. “Build up the fire, Luiz.”
    Luiz hastened to obey, throwing logs onto the flames. Unfortunately the wood was green and gusts of smoke billowed out, sending Luiz into a paroxysm of coughing.
    The new arrival ignored this. He tossed his hat onto a stool and strode to the table where reposed a flagon of wine and glasses. He raised a glass and examined it in the light of the candle, then fastidiously wiped it with his kerchief before filling it from the bottle. As if his action granted general permission, his companions hastened to follow his example.
    They drank in silence, then the new arrival raised his own eyeglass and subjected Paolo to close scrutiny. “Yes, you will do well,” he said. He reached into the front of his greatcoat and drew out a sheaf of papers.“Here is your background. It should not be hard for you to memorize.”
    Paolo took the papers. “Easier, I trust, than the Italian diplomat,” he said, riffling through the documents. “The intricacies of Italian politics were not easy to master, Governor.”
    The man thus addressed merely nodded and drank his wine. “The woman moves in the best circles. Your background as a French émigré of impeccable credentials will give you entree into the upper echelons of this society. Princess Esterhazy will arrange for your vouchers for Almack’s. She has been apprised of your arrival and believes you to be the scion of an old family with loose connections to her husband’s. You will visit her as soon as you have mastered your background. It will be well if you produce a hint of a French accent. Your fluent English is, of course, explained by your émigré status. You have grown up in the English countryside but now wish to take your place in society.”
    The governor shrugged and set his glass on the table. “You will find yourself in good company.