Gareth: Lord of Rakes Read Online Free PDF

willingly.”
    “Glad to be of service, my lord, as always.”
    In the ensuing solitude, Gareth’s mind wandered back to his interview with Felicity Worthington. Nobody, not the King, not the Prince of Wales, not the Archbishop of Canterbury, coerced Gareth Alexander into any task he didn’t choose for himself. So why was he taking on the sordid business of ruining Miss Felicity Oh-So-Proper Worthington, and why for such plebeian motivation as simple coin in the lady’s pockets?
    He’d find a way under, over, around, or through the business, and for once in his life, he’d manage the task without allowing himself the pleasure of bedding a pretty and willing lady.
    Maybe.
    ***
    At precisely two of the clock on Monday afternoon, Gareth’s footman opened the door to his unmarked town coach to reveal Felicity Worthington peering curiously at his equipage. Gareth kept his seat and let the groom assist the lady up, rather than risk the neighbors seeing him in her mews.
    “Good day, madam. I am cheered to see you value promptness.” He had taken the forward-facing seat, while Miss Worthington arranged herself opposite him and smoothed her skirts so they did not touch his boots.
    She was behaving like a chaperone rather than a potential conquest, leaving Gareth equal parts amused and annoyed.
    “Good afternoon, my lord. Does one surmise from your tone you’ve had second thoughts? You sound anything but cheered.” When she stopped fussing, she met his gaze, and he again felt that inconvenient frisson of arousal that had afflicted him when they’d first met.
    “I have had many thoughts regarding this venture since last we met, but none of them what you would call second thoughts. I have agreed to serve as the estate trustee, and I do not break my word. Ever.”
    “How reassuring,” she parried dryly. She held his stare unflinchingly, then startled when he surprised her with a bark of laughter.
    “Well done, Miss Worthington. You are capable of bravado, which will serve you well as you assume management of the Pleasure House.” He thumped on the roof with his walking stick, and the coach moved off.
    “Is that what she called it? The Pleasure House?”
    “Yes, though most men would simply refer to it as Callista’s. We’re headed there for an inspection of the premises, if that meets with my lady’s approval.”
    The shades were drawn, giving the coach an intimate feel, though it was broad daylight. Miss Worthington wore the same hideous bonnet, also the same light, lavender scent.
    “You refer to me as my lady, but I’m not a lady in the titled sense. When Father was alive, of course I was the Honorable Felicity Worthington and so forth, but the honorific means nothing without a viscount to inherit the title. It seems instead a reminder of… ill fortune.”
    Gareth loathed small talk, and what she’d offered instead was something indicative of bravery—she’d offered him a place to start.
    “I grew up as plain Mr. Alexander myself,” he said. “I preferred to die in that happy state, but ill fortune, as you call it, had other plans.”
    That piqued her interest, as he’d known it would. One could fornicate enthusiastically with a complete stranger, but Gareth was fairly certain one could not seduce a proper lady without allowing her at least a passing acquaintance.
    “What happened?”
    He would tell her his tale of woe, mostly because she was bound to hear a version of it sooner or later.
    “My family owns a prosperous distillery on an estate up in Scotland. The lot of us, along with a few guests, had assembled there at my grandfather’s request. The estate is on the coast, and my grandfather fancied himself an expert yachtsman. I don’t know if he was or not, but he invited us all out on his boat. My entire family went. I was the only one who declined the outing. My mother, father, older brother, and younger brother joined Grandfather, my uncle, and my cousin, as well as… a guest or two. A bad