The Rake's Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page A

keep such matters on a far more businesslike footing. Not for him the pitfalls of love, nor the placidity of marriage either. He would leave that to his elder brother, Richard.
    ‘I was thinking of Miss Raleigh,’ he said truthfully. ‘Pray do not concern yourself, Stephen. As you so perceptively noted, she is no courtesan. In point of fact, she is a glass engraver. She tells me that she is undertaking a commission for the Archangel Club. That is all.’
    Stephen looked slightly puzzled, as though he had not previously realised that the profession of glass engraving existed.
    ‘Oh well, then…’ he said, his brow clearing. ‘As I said, she is a capital girl.’
    ‘She is indeed,’ Lucas agreed, ‘and I shall be calling on her to convey our gratitude for the service she rendered you. I do not think that we need say any more on the subject.’
    Stephen looked slightly shocked, as though he could not quite believe that he was getting away with matters so lightly. He got to his feet, his gaze going to the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece.
    ‘I say, Lucas, do you think that I might be able to go back to White’s—’
    ‘No,’ Lucas said.
    Stephen deflated. ‘Oh, very well then. Good night.’
    ‘Good night,’ Lucas said, with a smile. ‘I wonder in which part of London Miss Raleigh has her engraving workshop?’ he added, half to himself.
    ‘I have not the slightest idea,’ Stephen said, sounding startled that his brother had even asked him. ‘I have not given the matter any thought.’
    ‘Of course not,’ Lucas said. ‘I am surprised that I even thought you would.’ He raised his glass in a toast. ‘Sleep well, little brother. I thought that we might go to Tattersall’s tomorrow afternoon if you would like.’
    Stephen flushed with pleasure. The hero-worshipping look was back in his eyes again. ‘Oh, may we? I should like that above all things!’
    He went out and left Lucas shaking his head ruefully. Outside in the hall, he could hear Stephen regaling Byrne, the butler, with a highly coloured version of his adventures.
    ‘How very exciting for you, my lord,’ he heard the butler say expressionlessly.
    Stephen’s voice faded away and there was no sound but the crackle of the fire and the click as Lucas replaced his brandy glass on the table. His thoughts had returned to Miss Rebecca Raleigh, but there was a more professional interest in them now.
    It was a curious twist of fate that had delivered to him Miss Raleigh, engraver, when he had spent the past three weeks checking every single glass engraver’s workshop in London, from the showrooms of the great practitioners to the garrets of the artisans.
    Lucas went over to the desk, took a small key from his pocket and unlocked the top drawer. There was a list within, marked with small ticks, crosses and additional notations. Lucas scanned it quickly. Miss Rebecca Raleigh’s name was not on the list, but perhaps she worked for someone else. She had not made that clear. Or perhaps, as he had originally thought, there was more to her story than she had disclosed to him.
    Lucas took out the most recent letter from his brother Justin in Midwinter. For the past six months, the Kestrels and their friend Cory Newlyn had been involved in the delicate task of finding and catching a French spy, a criminal so cunning that he—or rather, she—had so far evaded all their attempts at a trap. Gradually they had drawn nearer to their target. They had eliminated all those who must be innocent and had identified a core of people who must be guilty. As yet they had not caught them red-handed and the spy and her allies grew ever more brazen, operating under their noses.
    In the course of the investigation both Cory Newlyn and Richard Kestrel had found themselves brides from amongst the ladies of the Midwinter villages. It was a fate that Lucas was determined would not befall him.
    In his most recent letter, Justin wrote that the hunt for the Midwinter spy was entering