Ruined by a Rake Read Online Free Page B

menacingly in his eyes.
    “Oh, Nicolas, how you tease,” Mother trilled. “It’s a shame Margaret couldn’t join us. She does so enjoy your cheek.”
    Malcolm’s gaze flickered to his wife before returning to his meal. “You remember to keep your cheek in hand, Nicolas, while you are in my home.”
    My home. It was a theme that never quite went away. When he first came to live here fifteen years ago, the man went out of his way to put Nick in his place. As soon as he found a school that would take him, Malcolm packed him off with ill-concealed pleasure and washed his hands of him. If it weren’t for school breaks, Nick might have never seen his family.
    “That goes for you as well, Eleanor ,” Malcolm added, residual sharpness hardening his words.
    Eleanor’s head jerked up at the mention of her name, her forkful of potatoes halted halfway to her mouth. She looked as though she wanted to argue with the unfair admonishment, but instead merely pressed her lips together and nodded.
    Damn it—he hated to see her like this. Where was her spunk? Her fire? It was as if all the fight in her fizzled whenever Uncle Robert so much as glanced at her. Hopefully tomorrow Nick could shake loose the bee in her bonnet.
    Mother took a hardy sip from her wine, seeming oblivious to Eleanor’s distress. Setting down the goblet, she turned to Malcolm. “How wonderful that Nicolas should be here for the house party, don’t you think? I imagine he shall catch quite a few ladies’ attention.”
    Nick could tell exactly how excited his stepfather was with his presence. A firing squad might have been more welcome. “I’d rather he’d have come when he said he would. This party is hardly the place for him.”
    “Actually, he’s come at just the right time. Lord Kensington’s absence would have had us in quite the pickle. Now there’s no need to fret over our numbers.”
    Mother’s statement had exactly the opposite effect on the mood than Nick would have expected. Malcolm slammed his silverware to the table and snatched up his wine glass. Eleanor jumped at the noise, nearly dropping her fork.
    What the hell was going on here? And why had Kensington left before the party had even started? Nick wanted answers, but he’d be damned if he’d ask them with his stepfather around.
    Mother, as was usual, was completely unperturbed. “Nicky, darling, I have just the girl for you to entertain. Mr. Landon’s oldest daughter turned eighteen this month, and this is to be her first foray into society. She’ll officially debut with Libby next Season.”
    “Just what we need,” Malcolm muttered as he set down his drink. “A fresh-faced young debutant providing unfavorable comparison to Eleanor.”
    Nick very nearly choked on his peas. Of all the . . . he may often tease Eleanor, but Malcolm’s comment was designed to draw blood. With outrage burning in his gut, Nick jerked his gaze to her, not even giving a damn if she could sense his fury. Her face was pale, her jaw tight, but she gave her head a quick, nearly imperceptible shake when their eyes met. Her meaning was clear: stay out of it.
    Ah hah —he was beginning to realize what might be the cause of her odd behavior since his return. Knowing Malcolm, that was surely not the first comment he had doled out to her as the party approached. Despite her wishes, his fists clenched under the table, a retort poised precariously on his lips.
    “Don’t worry,” Mother said breezily, heedless of the tension at the table. “I’m sure Nicky will have no problem keeping the girl occupied.” She smiled in a somewhat reassuring way before lifting her wineglass again and downing the contents.
    Glancing once more to Ellie’s wane face, Nick finally managed to swallow the words he wanted to say. “Well then,” he said, working to keep his tone light, “sounds as though Miss Landon and I should suit perfectly. I’ll leave the serious entertaining to Eleanor.”
    The rigid line of her shoulders