The Rake Read Online Free PDF Page A

circumstances?"
    He shrugged. "Get married. Go torture your husband, and leave me out of it."
    Georgiana set her book aside and rose. She didn't want to press that particular topic; she would, in fact, have preferred that he'd never mentioned it. If she didn't address it, however, he would never believe any kind word she said to him now or in the future, let alone fall in love with her. "Marriage, Lord Dare, is not an option for me, now is it?"
    For a long moment he looked at her, his expression dark and unreadable. "To be blunt, Georgiana, the state of your virginity would be less important to most men than the size of your income. I could name a hundred men who would marry you in a second, given the chance."
    "I hardly need—or want—a man who desires only my money," she said hotly. "Besides, I have made an agreement with your aunts. I do not break my word."
    Dare pushed upright from his lazy slouch. He seemed taller than she remembered, and before she could stop herself, she took a step backward. A muscle in his lean cheek twitched, and he turned for the door.
    "Get me the invoice for that rolling chair," he said over his shoulder, "and I'll reimburse you for it."
    "No need," she returned, trying to regain her composure. "It's a gift."
    "I don't take charity. Give me the invoice tomorrow."
    She stifled an irritated sigh. "Very well."
    After the door closed, she stayed where she was for a long while. The night he had taken her virginity, as he put it, she had thought herself in love. To discover the next day that he'd done it to win a wager—one of her stockings, yet—had hurt more than she thought possible.
    Whatever his reasons for not boasting of his victory to the ton, she had never forgiven him. So now she would teach him exactly how much it hurt to be betrayed. Then, perhaps, he would understand what it meant to be honorable, and he could make a decent husband to a poor, naive girl like Amelia.
    With that in mind, she climbed into bed and tried to fall asleep. Amelia Johns needed to be let in on the game, or she herself would be as guilty of heartlessness as Tristan Carroway was. Perhaps she should do so at once; waiting until the Ibbottson ball would only give Dare an additional three days to ruin Miss John's life.

    Miss Amelia Johns seemed surprised to see Georgiana when she called at Johns House the next morning. Her brunette hair in a fetching bun with strategic curls escaping to caress her neck and cheeks, and garbed in a muslin day dress the color of sunshine, she looked the portrait of fairy-tale innocence. "Lady Georgiana," she said, curtsying, her arms full of flowers.
    "Miss Johns, thank you for seeing me this morning. I can see that you're busy; please don't let me keep you from your task."
    "Oh, thank you," the girl replied, smiling, as she set down her burden beside the nearest vase. "These roses are Mama's favorite. I would hate for them to wilt."
    "They're lovely." The girl hadn't asked her to sit, but Georgiana didn't want to appear impatient, so she slowly took a seat on a couch halfway across the wide morning room.
    Amelia stood over the vase, her alabaster brow furrowed as she tilted the yellow blooms this way and that, searching for the perfect angle. Good heavens, the girl didn't stand a chance against Dare.
    "May I offer you some tea, Lady Georgiana?"
    "No, but thank you. Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you. Something of a ... personal nature." She glanced at the maid fluffing pillows of the overstuffed furniture.
    "A personal nature?" Amelia giggled engagingly. "My goodness, that sounds so intriguing. Hannah, that will be all for now."
    "Yes, miss."
    Once the maid was gone, Georgiana relocated to a chair closer to Amelia. "I know this will seem highly unusual, but I do have a reason for asking," she said.
    Amelia paused in her flower arranging. "What is it?"
    "You and Lord Dare. There is a connection between you, is there not?"
    Large blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh, I don't