Days of Rakes and Roses Read Online Free PDF Page A

what’s best for you, Lydia.”
    She gave a sour laugh and realized that right now she genuinely hated him. “No, you don’t. You want to control me. You always did.”
    “Don’t marry him.”
    “What should I do instead? Marry you?”
    The words hung in the air like a miasma. He jerked back as if she’d struck him. “Your father accused me of pretensions above my station, as a second son angling after a duke’s daughter.”
    What had she expected Simon to say? That he’d longed for her as she’d longed for him? If he’d wanted her any time after he’d left, he had merely to get a message to her. She’d have swum the Channel with one arm tied behind her back for the promise of a life with Simon.
    “As I pointed out, my father is five years dead,” Lydia said coldly.
    She tried to pull away, but he held her with an implacability foreign to the boy she’d loved. But of course, he wasn’t the boy she’d loved. He was a man a decade older and in possession of infinite worldly experience. She couldn’t imagine what entertainment he hoped to gain from barging into her bridal ball. Unless he wasn’t here for entertainment, but because Cam had placed him under the obligation of friendship. Oh, how mortifying if Simon had returned purely because her brother felt sorry for her.
    Simon’s jaw set in a stubborn line that was also unfamiliar. “You’re throwing yourself away on that prig.”
    She’d had enough of this. “Stop it. You’re not fit to wipe Grenville’s boots.”
    “I know all about men like him. You’ll sleep in a cold bed every night while he’s off bolstering his self-importance with his parliamentary cronies.”
    “How can you know? You’ve been thousands of miles away.”
    “Cam told me—”
    “Cam needs to mind his own blasted business.” Finally she managed to wriggle free. She struggled against the impulse to give Simon a blistering dismissal. She was Lady Lydia Rothermere, a woman who had never put a foot wrong in society. She intended to maintain that reputation. “I don’t want to dance any longer. I hope you enjoy your short stay in England, Simon. I don’t expect we’ll see each other again.”
    Unforgivably he smiled at her. “You’ve turned very imperious in your old age, sweetheart.”
    It was unfair that he became even more handsome when his lips curved and the lines around his eyes crinkled with humor. Her hands clenched at her sides as she stifled the desire to slap him. She’d never committed violence against man or woman, but just now, if she had a pistol, she’d happily put a bullet through Simon Metcalf’s black heart.
    She didn’t smile back. “I’m not your sweetheart.”
    “Lydia, can I be of assistance?”
    The relief that flooded her was the strongest reaction Grenville had ever aroused in her. She turned to her betrothed with a grateful smile, then aghast, she realized that the antagonistic exchange with her dancing partner had attracted general notice. After all, only trouble of major proportions could have interrupted Grenville’s political intrigues.
    “As you say, it’s very crowded in here. One can hardly breathe.” Curse this blushing. Curse that cad Simon Metcalf for making her blush. She raised her head and strove for a facsimile of her usual composure, squashing rage and anguish far inside her. With an unsteady hand, she took Grenville’s arm and glowered at Simon, hoping he picked up the implication that his absence would clear the air. “Perhaps I should sit down for a moment.”
    “Of course, my love.” Grenville cast Simon a quelling glance. “Pray excuse us, Mr. Metcalf.”
    “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again, Lady Lydia,” Simon said in a silky tone that she’d never heard him use before. But as she kept reminding herself, he was a stranger. If she was lucky, he’d remain a stranger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t nearly optimistic enough to believe that he’d accept this dismissal as final.
    No, she was bleakly