Taste of the Devil Read Online Free PDF

thought of was gamboling, frivolity, and women.
    And definitely not in that order.
    The old man closed his eyes as he remembered the latest scandal his grandson had created. One out of a long line of many.
    The Duke exhaled noisily. “And what of Lady Heathrow and her sister?”
    “What about them?”
    “Were they, too, a run of bad luck?”
    “Not hardly.” Tyler’s slow grin infuriated the older man.
    “Enough!” The Duke slammed his palms on the desktop once more. “You squander yourself and your future inheritance, yet you mock me? Well, by God, no more!”
    Tyler did not respond; he simply lifted his left eyebrow. He was used to these little tête-à-têtes with his grandfather. Indeed, he did everything he could to angle their outcome. It appeared that after twenty years the strategy was working.
    He was finally getting to the son of a bitch.
    “What are you going to do, Grandfather, put me out on the street?” This was said more as a jest than anything else.
    So he was surprised when the Duke responded, “I might just do that.”
    Tyler’s face turned to stone and for the briefest of moments his iron guard slipped. His light-colored eyes riveted on to the Duke. “I am a lord of England.”
    At his grandfather’s stunned look, Tyler quickly recovered himself, throwing a negligent hand over the arm of his chair. “It wouldn’t do for me to be standing outside the gates begging. Would it, old fellow?”
    The Duke rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger.
    “For an instant I thought I saw a glimmer of honor in you. I see I was mistaken.”
    “No doubt. One would have to know honor to see it.”
    The thinly veiled insult did not pass by the Duke.
    “You don’t fool me, Tyler.”
    Lord Devon’s head snapped up. Was the old devil on to him? His concern instantly turned to relief with the Duke’s next words.
    “I know, you have no filial affection for me. I can live without it.”
    Tyler relaxed back into his languorous pose. His relief was soon shattered, though.
    “What I do need,” his grandfather continued, ‘is the next Duke of Islemoor.”
    Tyler was confused for several seconds– until the old man’s meaning became horribly clear. He caught his breath, feeling as though he had just been shot in the gut. “You want my son?”
    “What else are you good for? To that end, I’ve just arranged your marriage. You are, shall we say, my boy, signed, sealed and soon to be delivered.”
    Tyler snorted, dismissing it entirely. “You’re mad.”
    “Not mad enough to entrust this estate to your wastrel hands. I intend to will my entire estate and titles directly to the son you will soon beget for me.
    You will never be master of Islemoor.”
    Tyler flushed, enraged at his grandsire. Standing over the desk, he clenched his fists in his fury. “You vicious old bastard! You have hated me from the day I was born. You’ve taken everything else, but you’ll not take my birthright from me.”
    For a moment, the Duke was stunned by Tyler’s vehement diatribe. He recovered quickly, though.
    “You insolent peacock! I have already done it.”
    The Duke lowered his voice, speaking through clenched teeth. “Sit down and listen carefully to my words. For once you will do exactly as I say. You will wed yourself to Lady Thomlinson. The banns have already been read.”
    A cold day in Hell is when that will happen. “And who is this paragon you have picked out for me in your delusional state? I have never heard of her and I do make it my business to acquaint myself with the ladies of the ton.”
    “So I have heard,” the Duke sneered in disgust.
    “She is the niece of Jediah Moore.”
    “That toad?” Tyler let out a bark of laughter.
    “She is not what you imagine. She is a gently reared girl, quite lovely, I am told. Her uncle has kept her away from most of the damaging influences of society.”
    Tyler scoffed. “Really? So, why hasn’t some other swain already snatched up this model of