Once Upon a Rake Read Online Free PDF Page A

to make savings after the fire. His skin prickled at the remembrance
of heat.
    A gloved hand rested briefly
on his wrist.
    “I was sorry to hear of your
father. He was a good man. I should have liked to have been there for his
funeral.”
    “Thank you,” he replied
solemnly.
    His father, the late
viscount, had been dead for two years now and he was used to accepting peoples’
sympathies. Everyone had loved his father. He was one of the better ones,
Lucian had to admit. He suspected his rakish ways had always disappointed him
slightly. How would he feel about his son now? He couldn’t be further from a
rake nowadays.
    He coughed to clear the
tightness from his throat. “You were in India at the time?”
    “No, Egypt.”
    “Egypt! Pray tell what the
earl found of interest in Egypt? It hardly seems the sort of place to drag a
well-bred lady and he was hardly young.”
    “I was not dragged. I
enjoyed our travels very much and Edward had a lot of energy for an elderly
gentleman.”
    Lucian scowled and tried not
think how he might have used his energies. He shuddered.
    “We were there to look at a
scarab.”
    “A bug? You travelled to
Egypt for a bug?”
    “Well, and I longed to see
the pyramids. It’s a fascinating country, I can assure you. Sadly our trip was
cut short by Edward’s declining health and we came back to Europe.”
    “Ah, oui, Paris . I
forgot my mother mentioned you had settled there. Why come back to drab old
England?”
    “It is my home,” she said
with a barely suppressed sigh. “How is your mother?” she asked, her voice
becoming overly bright. “Is she well?”
    “Well indeed. She is
married.”
    “I had heard. Mama wrote to
me and told me all. I suppose it was quite quick but I don’t see the harm if
she is happy.”
    “She is,” he confirmed.
    He too had been surprised at
the engagement of his mother only three months after coming out of mourning but
he never doubted she loved his father. His mother was the sort of woman who
needed a man at all times, and he was grateful she had managed to find another
one for her to cling onto. As much as he loved her, he didn’t wish to be that
man.
    “She still lives in
Yorkshire?”
    Lucian tried not to roll his
eyes. He tried not to groan. He failed on both parts and she probably noticed
if the stiffening of her shoulders were anything to go by. From the corner of
his eye he saw her turn wooden. He found himself innately aware of each
movement of hers. But, damnation, did she not realise from his short answers he
hated small talk. He’d never enjoyed it during his years in London and he
certainly didn’t relish it now he was away from all that and out of practice.
    The men at the inn had no
use for small talk and nor did his factory workers or those he paid to run it
so that was where he divided his time. If they found their owner’s interference
annoying, none had the gall to say as much. Most men preferred to leave it in
their foreman’s hands, but heck, he needed something to keep him occupied if he
was not lauding it up with high society in the dales.
    “Yes, she still lives in
Yorkshire, though she spends much time in Lancashire on the coast these days.
She is in Blackpool at present.”
    “Oh, I hear they are
building a promenade there now.”
    He nodded. “It is quite the
up and coming place, I hear.”
    “You have not been there
yourself?”
    Lucian tried not to smirk.
As if he had the time or the inclination. Did she not see the scars on his
face? Who would want to promenade along the seaside and garner stares from
every direction? Not him, to be sure.
    “No. I’ve been busy.”
    He released a long breath as
he directed the horses up the long private road towards the house. There was no
gate marking the entrance to the front, only two tall brick pillars. His stable
hands must have seen him coming down the drive as they were ready to take the
horses and put the carriage away before he had even stepped from it.
    Lucian held out