London's Perfect Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF

decided how you want to focus your energies, there are other places and in better areas that aren’t associated with the Marquis of St. Aubyn.”
    â€œYes, I know. But I chose this place before I knew about him, and I think it would be cowardly of me to turn away from those in need simply because one board member has a poor reputation.” He was the chairman of the board, and “poor” didn’t begin to describe his reputation, actually, but that didn’t change the argument.
    â€œEven so,” her friend said, more slowly, “that doesn’t explain why you were waltzing with him.”
    â€œOh. That was a trade: He agreed to have someone show me about the orphanage tomorrow if I would waltz with him.”
    From her expression, Lucinda remained unconvinced that Evie hadn’t lost her mind. Good friend that she was, though, Miss Barrett only nodded. “Please just remember, St. Aubyn never does anything without exacting a price, and what he does is never in anyone else’s best interest.”
    The memory of his lips brushing her ear made Evie shiver. “I do know that, Luce. Contrary to popular male opinion, I’m not a complete idiot.”
    â€œEven so, you may want to discuss St. Aubyn with Dare. They know one another.”
    â€œOh, very well, if it’ll make you feel any better.”
    â€œHow I feel doesn’t signify, Evie. Just be cautious.”
    â€œI will.” She sighed at Lucinda’s worried expression. “I promise.”
    Victor stood waiting for her just inside. “Evie.”
    Motioning for Lucinda to go, Evelyn wondered whether one had to be of a certain age before suffering an apoplexy, or if anyone could succumb. “Victor.”
    He grabbed her arm, the gesture seemingly affectionate, except that it would likely leave a bruise. “We are leaving,” he rumbled. “Of all the stupid, naive, empty-headed—”
    â€œOne more word,” she said in a low voice, “and I will fall to the floor in a dead faint. That will make you look very, very mean.”
    With a baleful look, he released her. “We will continue this at home,” he growled.
    Wonderful . “Undoubtedly.” She glanced over his shoulder, seeing a dark-haired savior approaching. “Now, if you don’t mind, my partner for the quadrille is waiting.”
    Victor swung his head around. “Dare.”
    Tristan Carroway, Viscount Dare, nodded back athim, his solemn face at odds with the twinkle in his light blue eyes. “Ruddick.”
    Sending her a last, angry look, Victor strode off in the direction of his latest political allies. “Ogre,” she muttered.
    â€œI hope you realize I’d rather break my neck than dance a quadrille,” Dare said, taking her arm.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI’ve been commanded to escort you to Georgiana,” he said amiably, guiding her around the fringes of the crowd. “She wants to chastise you.”
    Everyone seemed to, tonight . “And what do you think, my lord?”
    â€œI think that whatever game Saint is playing, you probably don’t want to be a part of it.”
    â€œI thought you were friends.”
    The viscount shrugged. “We used to be. Now we play cards together on occasion.”
    â€œWhy does everyone call him Saint?”
    â€œBesides the obvious? He inherited the St. Aubyn title when he was six or seven. I would guess that ‘Saint’ seemed better suited to a youth than the mouthful of ‘Marquis of St. Aubyn.’ Now, though, I imagine he finds it…amusing, since he’s about the furthest thing from a saint there is without taking hell into account.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou’d have to ask him—not that I would, if I were you. Which I’m not, thank God, since I’d look dreadful in an evening gown.”
    Evie chuckled, though Dare’s comments were a little surprising. His own