The Rake's Mistress Read Online Free Page B

above keeping an eye on a wayward youth. Besides, Lucas had business to attend to in London, and had therefore been the obvious choice to rein in Stephen’swilder excesses. It seemed, however, that this particular incident was not as serious as it had originally appeared. Both Stephen and Miss Rebecca Raleigh were telling the same tale and Lucas was inclined to believe that it was a true one.
    ‘You did not know that you had appropriated a carriage belonging to one of the most notorious clubs in town?’ he repeated, just to be sure.
    ‘No!’ Stephen was looking most unhappy. ‘Lucas, I swear I had no idea—’
    ‘Very well,’ Lucas said. He eyed Stephen closely, aware that his brother was trying to utilise seldom-used mental machinery. A deep frown marred Stephen’s brow. Lucas waited patiently.
    ‘But if Miss Raleigh was in the carriage,’ Stephen said slowly, ‘and the carriage belongs to the Archangel Club, then that would make Miss Raleigh—’ He broke off, a look of horror crossing his face. ‘Oh, no! That must make Miss Raleigh a Cyprian! I say, Lucas, that cannot be right!’
    Lucas laughed. He was interested to see the loyalty that Miss Raleigh had inspired in Stephen, even on so short an acquaintance. Stephen’s face had set in a stubbornly disbelieving expression.
    ‘That cannot be so,’ he said again.
    Lucas raised his brows. ‘Why not?’ he asked, curious to know Stephen’s reasoning.
    ‘Because it was clear to see that she is a lady,’ Stephen said. His face lightened. ‘In fact, she is a capital girl! Do you know, Lucas, she did not scream or have the vapours when she saw me? She offered me her cloak in case I caught a chill. I thought that most practical of her.’
    ‘It was indeed,’ Lucas murmured. For a moment he wondered. Miss Raleigh might not be a courtesan, but such coolness when confronted by masculine nakedness did argue some prior experience.
    ‘And,’ Stephen added, warming to his theme, ‘she even suggested I might creep inside the house by way of the servants’ door to prevent you from seeing me. I thought that very clever of her. So you see, there is not the least possible likelihood of her being a courtesan. She is far too—’
    ‘Too?’
    ‘Too special,’ Stephen muttered, turning scarlet.
    Lucas viewed his young brother with some pity. It was clear to him that Stephen was suffering the first, unavoidable pangs of calf love. It had been bound to happen sooner or later, and rather Miss Raleigh than some genuine Cyprian who would take all Stephen’s allowance, turn his untried emotions inside out and probably sue him for breach of promise into the bargain. Remembering an episode from his own youth that had involved an older woman, an unguarded marriage proposal and a large sum of money from his father to buy theharpy off, Lucas repressed a shudder. It was fortunate that Stephen’s admiration for Miss Raleigh seemed of so innocent a nature. In point of fact, he was the one who had entertained decidedly less than innocent notions of Miss Raleigh, and attempted to act on them. He was the one who had thought of Rebecca’s thick, russet hair released from its confining pins and spread across his bare chest, had imagined her mouth crushed ruthlessly beneath his own, had dreamed of freeing those voluptuous curves from the restraint of that disfiguring worsted dress. Miss Rebecca Raleigh had been very tightly buttoned up and he had wanted to unbutton her. He would have given a great deal for the privilege. He shifted in his chair as his thoughts had their inevitable physical reaction.
    ‘I say, Lucas,’ Stephen said, looking at him closely, ‘are you feeling quite the thing?’
    Lucas shook his head slightly to banish the images of Rebecca, naked and wanton in his arms. Damnation! The more he tried to dismiss the thoughts, the more they crowded in on him. And he was no callow boy. He had suffered his own youthful infatuation years ago and these days preferred to