The Rake Read Online Free PDF Page A

admitted.
    Reggie dragged one hand through his dark tangled hair. “That explains why I made it as far as the bedroom.” Glancing at his friend, he saw signs of returning consciousness. “Make a pot of coffee. I imagine Julian will need some, and I could use a few cups myself.”
    â€œVery good, sir. Will you be interested in a light luncheon as well?”
    â€œNo!” Reggie shuddered at the thought of food. “Just coffee.”
    As Mac left the room, Reggie stood and removed his cravat. Someday he was going to be strangled in his sleep by one of the blasted things. He washed his face with the hot water Mac had brought, then sank into the wing chair that stood at right angles to the sofa, his legs stretched out before him. In spite of his ablutions and the change from horizontal to vertical, he still felt like death walking. He eyed Julian’s cherubic smile with disfavor as the young man’s eyes finally opened.
    Julian sat up immediately. “Good morning, Reg,” he said brightly. “Wasn’t that a great evening?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Reggie said tersely. “What happened?”
    Julian smiled, undeterred by his companion’s gruffness. He was a handsome, fair-haired young man, with a charm and future fortune that made him much sought after by society hostesses with marriageable daughters. “You won five hundred pounds from Blakeford. Don’t you remember?”
    The coffee arrived. After pouring a large, scalding mug and heavily sugaring it, Reggie crossed his legs and regarded his friend’s clear eyes and cheerful mien morosely. It was his own fault for going about with a man a dozen years his junior, who could bounce back from a night’s debauchery with such speed. Reggie used to be able to do the same, but not anymore.
    He gulped a mouthful of coffee, swearing when it burned his tongue. “I remember going to Watier’s. Then what happened?”
    â€œBlakeford invited a dozen of us back to his place for supper and whist. Wanted to show off his new mistress, a flashy piece named Stella.” Julian poured himself a mug of the coffee. “She took quite a fancy to you.”
    Reggie frowned. It was coming back slowly. He’d gone directly from the Earl of Wargrave’s to a tavern and had drunk alone for a couple of hours. Then he’d met Julian at Watier’s, and events began to get hazy. “This Stella—a little tart with red hair and a roving eye?”
    â€œThat’s the one. She sniffed around you like a bitch in heat. Blakeford was angry enough about losing the money, but when you disappeared for half an hour and he realized Stella was gone, too, I thought he’d explode. Did she waylay you for a little side action?”
    Reggie closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the chair. “More or less.” Ordinarily he would have avoided Stella, whose sensational figure was surpassed only by her stunning vulgarity. But she had chosen her moment carefully, accosting him when he had drunk too much for good judgment, and too little to be incapacitated.
    His eyes still closed, he drank more coffee as the scene came back to him. The trollop had been waiting in the hall when he returned to the card game, her hot, demanding mouth and eager little hands making it clear what she wanted. His body, which had no standards to speak of, had responded immediately. A feverish, clawing exchange had followed, with only a closed door separating them from the rest of the party. Inflamed by the knowledge that her protector was in the next room, Stella had gouged Reggie’s back through his shirt with sharp nails, her breath coming in little whimpering pants.
    Thank God the card party was noisy enough to drown out her last hoarse cry. He must have been insane.
    No, not insane. Drunk. Nothing unusual about that.
    Hesitation in his voice, Julian broke into Reggie’s reverie. “I probably