Lord of the Rakes Read Online Free PDF Page A

well,” acknowledged Philip with a shrug. “One must humor one’s hostess. Besides, there are worse partners. Miss Langley at least can carry on a good conversation.”
    Gideon favored him with another too-sharp look. “Well, I shall leave you to it. Hardy’s over there, and I need a word with him.” He paused. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Philip.”
    But before Philip could make any reply, Gideon slipped into the crowd, leaving Philip to the intricate task of navigating the ballroom on his own.
    It was not long, however, before he felt his spirits sinking again. The grand and overdecorated rooms were already too crowded, too hot, and far, far too loud. One could barely hear the first-rate musicians Mrs. Gladwell had hired for the dancing, and the elaborate chalk drawing she’d commissioned for the floor was nothing but a colorful blur underfoot. Now that he was here, however, Philip found himself wishing to be somewhere else. Just where that was, he could not have said. Where should a young man with money and freedom be at the opening of the season except at a ball?
    What’s the matter with me?
he thought irritably. Quite apart from the prospect of finding a new paramour, Philip had many acquaintances to greet, and if he truly was itching for play, there was always the cardroom.
    But he knew what was the matter. The hell of it was, he couldn’t tell anyone. Perhaps he’d better take Gideon up on his offer to have the carriage drive him Crockburn’s. But no, that would just expose him to more of Fitzsimmons’s awkward questions. Besides, he’d promised Mrs. Gladwell he’d dance with Miss Langley. He’d keep that promise, at least.
    As it transpired, Meredith Langley proved fairly easy to find. A little taller than average and a little plumper than fashionable, she had positioned herself on the far edge of the ballroom, about halfway between the door to the retiring room and the cluster of gossiping chaperones on their little gilt chairs. Her plain, butter-yellow dress had been expertly made over for the new season, and her gray eyes were somewhat obscured by her spectacles, but her manner as she turned toward Philip was frank and open.
    “Why, Mr. Montcalm, how delightful.” Miss Langley curtsied in response to his bow. Her smile and greeting were perfectly calculated to suit the occasion and the differences in their standings, being pleasant but not too forward, and devoid of anything that might be considered flirtation. “I was hoping to see you this evening.”
    “Were you? I’m flattered, Miss Langley.” Philip returned his most charming smile and another small bow. “To what do I owe this mark of your favor?”
    Miss Langley smiled. One of the reasons he’d always liked Miss Langley was that they each understood who the other was, and she was in absolutely no danger of taking his flirtations to heart. “Well, if I may be bold, I’m sure you know Lady Preston is hosting a charity concert by Signor Marizetti at her home later in the week.”
    “I had heard something of it.” In fact, the town had been abuzz with the news since Philip had arrived. Signor Marizetti had given only one private performance last season, and that had been for the Prince of Wales.
    “A . . . friend of Mother’s was particularly hoping to obtain tickets, but ours have already been promised, and it seems there are none at all to be had.” Miss. Langley blinked up at him in a show of entirely feigned helplessness. “As you’re such a favorite of Lady Preston’s, I was wondering if you could speak to her for me?”
    Meredith Langley was destined to be one of society’s “useful women.” These women—usually ladies of the ton in reduced circumstances—were extended hospitality by society matrons because they were very good at finding hard-to-come-by invitations or tickets for exclusive events, and were also able to perform certain other useful functions, like mentioning beneficial pieces of