A Diamond in the Rough (v1.1) Read Online Free Page A

answer was barely audible and the Viscount couldn’t help but catch the welling of tears in his father’s eyes before the Earl bent to take his head between his hands. For some reason, it shook him more than he cared to admit.
    “God knows, I have been a sad failure as the head of this family, and an even worse hand at being a parent.” The Earl’s frail fingers raked through his graying hair. “The only thing of any real value I have done is to . . . produce you. But even for that I fear I deserve little credit, for you quite obviously did not inherit your good sense or excellent character from me.”
    Marquand found his anger slowly evaporating, just like the spill on the floor. Instead, his father’s poignant revelations filled him with an aching sadness.
    “I can hardly blame you for holding me in disgust,” he went on in a shaky voice. “I’ve given you precious little reason to think otherwise. If you want to know the truth, I think even worse of myself than you do.” He looked up, remorse etched on his still handsome features. “I’ve tried. God help me, I’ve tried to act with some restraint. I don’t know why I am just not capable of behaving in a rational manner. But there it is. This time, perhaps it would be best to let me suffer the consequences of my own foolish actions. Surely I cannot be much more of a disgrace to you than I already am, no matter what the tattlemongers choose to say about me refusing to honor a bet.”
    The Viscount gave a harried sigh and began to pace before the meager fire. “I’ve managed to pull you out of the suds before, so I imagine I will be able to figure out something this time around as well.” His mouth quirked upward in spite of the situation. “Indeed, there is another rather important reason I would prefer to avoid any egregious scandal at the moment. You see, I have just become betrothed and would rather not give my intended’s father reason to cry off. He was skeptical enough of the connection without creating further cause for concern.”
    His father essayed a real smile through his guilt. “Why, I wish you happy, son. And hope that you don’t make as much a hash of it as I have done. But you won’t. Too much common sense in that bonebox of yours. May I ask who the lucky lady is?”
    “Lady Honoria Dunster.”
    “Hylton’s chit? A Diamond of the First Water,” he said with frank approval. “Real diamonds are rare in our little world of paste and false sparkle. And all the more precious for it. No doubt she brings a plump dowry as well, though it seems to me the lady is making quite the better of the match.” He cleared his throat. “Er, have you set a date?”
    “Not as yet, but it is my understanding that the family wishes to wait at least until the Little Season.”
    The Earl looked vastly relieved. “So, ah, there is no reason why you cannot . . . travel in the next few months?”
    The smile, however faint, disappeared from Marquand’s face. “And why would I want to do that?”
    “Well, you see, there is the matter of the, er, test of skill with Hertford. As luck would have it, it is to take place in Scotland—”
    “Scotland?”
    “Er, yes.” Out of habit, Chittenden reached for the bottle that was no longer there, then a sheepish expression stole over his features as his hand fell back to his side. “And it’s—well, it’s rather important that you be there.”
    Marquand felt a stirring of unease. “I think you had best explain just exactly what it is you have wagered, Father.”
    There were several moments of silence as the Earl tugged at a comer of his waistcoat. “No doubt I was a greater idiot than usual to sit down at the gaming table with the damn fellow, who never seems to have a run of bad luck—”
    “Ha! Luck indeed! An experienced gamester such as yourself should know enough to suspect such it is more than luck.”
    The Earl paled. “You think he . . . cheats?”
    “I have no proof of it, but I have heard