Never Resist a Rake Read Online Free PDF

hers.
    â€œAnything you want, I’ll do it.” He was feeling magnanimous and more than a little fuzzy-headed after the beating he’d taken, but he realized it was true. He would do anything for her.
    â€œIt sounds to me as if you’re not sure of your place in the world.”
    He nodded slowly. She’d cut to the heart of his problem in no time at all. He didn’t belong anywhere.
    â€œThen I want you to do something that will help you figure out where you belong. Go home to Somerfield Park,” she said. “London isn’t for you.”
    He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Maybe he could talk her into changing her request.
    â€œThere’s nothing for me in Somerset either. My half brother Richard is running the estate. He keeps things humming, I’m told. I’d be as useful as…” He stopped himself before he said “tits on a boar,” deciding even an unusual debutante like Rebecca wouldn’t appreciate this poetical, if somewhat coarse, observation. “Well, not useful at all.”
    â€œYou were decidedly useful to me this evening, but that’s beside the point,” she said. “And there is something for you at Somerfield Park. There’s your father. It’s almost time for his annual hunt. From what your grandmother told me, his lordship is still not himself after taking a tumble off the roof. He needs you.”
    Each year, the marquess hosted a grand hunt at Somerfield Park, inviting influential lords from all over the realm to shoot mallards and teal. His lordship’s guests went deer stalking and generally attempted to kill anything furred or feathered that roamed the thick woods near the coastline. John remembered hearing about it during his days at Oxford. Blackwood’s father had even been invited once.
    John was a crack shot himself. Sir Humphrey had taught him, but they didn’t hunt to put a trophy on the wall. Lady Coopersmith always needed meat for the stewpot.
    However, according to Blackwood’s father, more went on during the Somerset hunt than the quest for antlers for the hall. Deals were made about initiatives in the House of Lords. With a little diligence, John could study all the titled gentlemen who’d be there, their fields of influence, their interests and political leanings.
    And thanks to his friends in the Daemon Club, who loved to tell tales, he’d learn more than a few of their weaknesses as well. That might be very helpful.
    Perhaps John could be of some use after all.
    Even though he hated himself for it, the need to have the marquess recognize him, not just as the legitimate heir but as his son, burned in his gut.
    â€œAll right,” he said slowly. “I’ll go to Somerfield Park, but only on two conditions.”
    Her lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “What are they?”
    â€œYou have to come too.”
    â€œI can’t. My family hasn’t been invited.”
    â€œI just invited you—and your father and mother and anyone else you care to bring.” He took her hand again and was surprised when she didn’t pull it away. “In a big house like Somerfield Park, there’ll be room for everyone. Blast it all. I doubt even the maids know how many bedrooms there are.”
    â€œLanguage.” She cocked a reproving brow at him. “Again.”
    â€œI’m sorry. For both times.” He wasn’t, but it seemed expedient to act as if he were. When her lips twitched in a smile, he decided he just might have a future in politics. Lying had become much easier of late.
    â€œIn that case, I forgive you.” Rebecca flicked out her tongue and drew it across her lower lip. John wanted to take that little bottom lip between his and suckle it.
    â€œI suspect it will be hard for Lord Hart—” John caught himself before he called Richard Barrett by the title that he now possessed. “For my half brother to be under the same roof with