Miss Lacey's Last Fling (A Regency Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

a predictable as the event itself.
    Max always came looking for something new— something or someone to relieve the boredom, even for a moment. Something that might give him a reason not to take Freddie's route. But Max knew in his heart that what he sought did not exist. He'd seen it all, done it all, again and again. Nothing and no one piqued his interest anymore.
    True, Max could easily find temporary escape in the arms of any number of willing women even now casting significant glances his way. No doubt he would. In fact, almost before realizing what he was doing, he answered Lady Heatherington's lifted brow with a discreet nod. She was a beautiful woman and a lively bed partner. And so, there would be momentary sport this evening after all.
    But what of the morning?
    He was tired of crawling out of some woman's bed before the sun rose, dressing in rumpled clothes, and making a hasty exit before dawn. He was tired of waking midday in his own bed, alone, with head throbbing from too much drink, the smell of stale perfume on his skin, and God knows how many vowels in his pockets.
    Beautiful women practically at his beck and call. Sinfully lucky at the gaming tables. Money to burn and no obligations. Max was the envy of almost every man he knew.
    Yet he felt old and tired and sick to death of his life.
    It wasn't just the repetition. A good deal of what he did was worth repeating. An evening in Eugenia Heatherington's bed, for instance. No, it was something else that had begun to nag at him of late. Something that had never concerned him before, that only last year would have made him laugh if he had given it a single thought.
    He was thirty-six years old and had done nothing with his life. There. He'd admitted it, if only to himself. His entire life he'd done nothing but womanize and drink and gamble, which had been enough until recently.
    In fact, for quite some time debauchery had meant everything to him, had become his reason for existing. He had nothing else to live for, after all. Max had no career, no wife, no children, no charities, no interests. He supported himself by gambling, both in the hells and on the Exchange; and though he'd been rather successful, it wasn't much of a legacy.
    Discounting the string of beauties he'd bedded over the years, the symbolic notches on his bedpost, there was nothing much Max had accomplished in his life, nothing he was proud of. Now, as he grew older, he had become bored by the pasha-like hedonism of his life.
    There was only one reasonable thing to do when one's seemingly perfect life became intolerable. As he made his way through the crowd, he fingered Freddie's note and once again vowed that this would be his last Season.
    Recollecting his assignation with Eugenia Heatherington, Max made a conscious effort to ignore all subsequent invitations, or at least to evade them. He did not have the energy for two intimate engagements tonight.
    Lord, he was getting old. There had been a time—
    "Max!"
    His thoughts were cut short by the familiar voice somewhere to his left. He looked around but did not see her.
    "Over here, Max."
    Following the sound of her voice, he at last caught sight of a gold plume atop a spangled turban that could only have belonged to Fanny, and moved toward her. Perhaps she could help to brighten his dark mood.
    Indeed, she could. He was prevented by the throng of people from reaching her and was forced to stand some distance away while he awaited a break in the crowd. But he had a good view of her now, and could see she was speaking to a young woman he'd never seen. Someone new. Someone lovely. Someone who smiled at him flirtatiously.
    Bless Fanny's heart!
    He inched his way along the stairway—he had not yet even made it all the way inside to the main apartments—and kept his eye on the Unknown. She had dark auburn hair that curled about her cheeks in a most fetching manner. The ribbon threaded through it was the same deep shade of red as her dress. She had