Conspiring with a Rogue Read Online Free

glass on the table next to Drake’s.
    The hollowness inside Drake yawned wider.
Damn
. He had thought he couldn’t feel worse. He hated when he proved himself wrong. Not even her cousin, one of her dearest friends, thought they would ever see her again. Drake sucked in air, stunned to realize he had still held some insane hope of seeing her. By God, he was the worst sort of lovesick fool. “What’s the cure for the disease I have?” His voice sounded broken and pathetic to his ears.
    Rutherford regarded him with hooded lids. “I don’t have a cure, per se.”
    “Go on.”
    “How about another woman?”
    The thought of wooing another woman held no appeal to him. Yet he was dull-headed to cling to the memory of a woman who did not want him. He straightened in his chair, determined to make some sort of change. What he needed to do was force himself into an action that would help him move on from Whitney. “You could be right.”
    Rutherford leaned in, a knowing smile curving his lips. “I’m not suggesting you court a proper lady. Bed an improper one. There’s nothing like a woman’s soft touch to make you forget what troubles the mind.”
    “Spoken as if from experience. What troubles
your
mind?” Drake wasn’t sure he really cared, but the distraction would be welcome.
    The man winked across the space. “I’ve forgotten. Which makes my statement perfectly correct.”
    Drake laughed, surprised at how good it felt. Being miserable was tiring. Maybe another woman, a woman meant only to give pleasure, was exactly what he needed to banish the picture of the blond-haired, amber-eyed temptress who’d stolen his heart.
    “You might have a point,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table as an idea formed. Maybe the problem had never been Whitney. Maybe the problem was him. He couldn’t believe it had taken him six months to figure this out. Perhaps all the spirits he’d consumed lately had dulled his thinking. He needed to change
himself
to forget her. He would become the most notorious rake England had ever seen. And there was no better place to start his reformation than London’s most wicked sex club. “Aren’t you a member of the Sainted Order?”
    Rutherford’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I am. But I’m curious how you know of a
secret
membership and club.”
    “Lionhurst told me ages ago. Before…” Drake let the sentence die on his lips. No need to say before whom. They both knew perfectly well Whitney was the one who had swept into Drake’s life and stolen his heart. Drake stared down at his hands for a moment, struggling to control his memories, to keep her image at bay. Finally mastering himself, he glanced up and met Rutherford’s piercing gaze. “Lionhurst once said he’d help me gain admission to the club if I cared to do so, but since he’s not here, will you assist me?”
    “Not exactly what I had in mind,” Rutherford said, “but it’s better than your love affair with the bottle.” After a moment’s pause, he stuck out his hand. “I’ll help you.”
    Drake clasped Rutherford’s hand, surprised at the formal gesture. Something stiff and sharp poked into Drake’s palm as Rutherford pumped his hand up and down. “Be there at midnight. Knock twice and tell them Saint Ambrose sent you.”
    “Be where?”
    “God, you’re dull witted. Sober up before tonight or they’ll laugh you out the door.” Rutherford cut his eyes down, shoved his chair away from the table and quit the room without so much as a backward glance.
    “Irritable bastard,” Drake mumbled under his breath. He stood and made his way to the privy. Once he was sure he was alone, he uncurled his fingers and brought the rectangular cream card up to his face. He squinted in the shabby light, tracing his fingers over the black raised lettering as he read. The Sainted Order, All Saints Abbey, One Church Street . He forced a smile to his lips. Happy people smiled. He did not feel happy, but with enough practice