My Notorious Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside and stay a little longer.
    Try to find out who she was . . .
    He shook his head to himself, well aware that his apology had been inadequate. What she must think of him!
    He knew how a gentleman ought to treat the fair sex: Unlike his Order teammates, he had sisters, after all. He had never been a serial seducer like Beauchamp, nor took twisted pleasure in the kind of stormy, hot-and-cold affairs with dangerous females that were Nick’s Achilles heel.
    But now he felt like a villain, for it was obvious in hindsight that the lady he had groped like a drunken libertine was a genuine nice girl.
    A nice girl! Imagine that. He had lost faith that they existed. It made him all the more intrigued. And all the less willing to accept her refusal to tell her name.
    He could learn it easily enough, of course. He did have some experience in gathering information.
    But maybe she was right. Maybe it was better to leave it alone, as she had said—a secret kiss with an intoxicating stranger. God knew he’d had his share of those, he thought, letting out a wistful sigh.
    Somehow, this felt different. He looked at the house again. Then a fleeting memory of her clinging to him in a dizzied swoon of very virginal passion flashed through his mind and made his nether regions pulsate with long-starved need. Right. All of a sudden, his mind was made up.
    This would not do. Honor had its demands. He had misused a lady: He, of all people, could not possibly leave it at that. He had to go back and tell her again—properly, without sarcasm—that he was sorry and that she needn’t fear at all for her good name.
    Which he fully intended to learn.
    At the very least, he owed it to himself to find out who she was. For the first time in ages, he felt a stirring of hope. Whoever she was, she symbolized, well, something. He wasn’t quite sure what. It was enough to have seen there were still good women out there in the world.
    While all the others fawned on him—exactly what he didn’t need—she, with that little pinprick, had neatly popped the bubble of his own dark focus on himself.
    Aye, she had done him a favor, he thought wryly. He owed the girl his thanks. And why not?
    He had nothing else to do tonight, nowhere else to go.
    And nothing left to lose.
    Laura and her new beau obviously weren’t coming, so maybe now he could finally relax. Go back in, have another drink, he mused, and at least try to enjoy himself like a human being again.
    With the taste of that beguiling girl’s innocent kiss still lingering on his tongue, Trevor surrendered to his curiosity, drawn back toward the light.
    The iron chandelier glowed, hung from the mansion’s airy, half-round portico. He crossed beneath it, walking back into Lievedon House.
    Rejoining the fray, he made a mental note to try to steer clear of those vexing hussies and keep to the company of men while he made his inquiries.
    One way or the other, he was determined to find out who the devil he had just kissed.

Chapter 3
    O h, no. Grace’s heart sank. Upon returning discreetly to the ball, she had arrived in the doorway of the card room only to find that George had either forgotten about their promised dance or had forfeited the bargain.
    She looked on in worry from a safe distance as the marquess’s son plunged himself into his fatal passion at the gaming tables. It appeared to be whist that they were playing, and if it was the long form, she would not be seeing him again for the rest of the night.
    Unless I tell Papa.
    Yes, that was the best solution. Not so much time had passed; George could not yet be too far gone in the grip of his vice. If anyone could still pull him back from the brink, it was the kind and unflappable Reverend Kenwood.
    Frankly, she could not believe the brat would even do this with Papa here—but Heaven only knew what might happen if his own father found him first. Lord Lievedon had forbidden his son from these perilous amusements. But here was George, doing as he