The Rake Who Loves Me Read online

  “I thought it would make things...interesting.” Hampstead lifted his glass and sipped his brandy. “Do you agree?”

  “I think we will need an impartial third party.” He glanced at Goodland. “To ensure that whoever loses keeps their word, and that the winner doesn’t take things too far.”

  “I’ll be your...whatever you called it,” Goodland replied with a wave of his hand. “You might need to remind me when I am sober.”

  “Then we’re all agreed?” Hampstead said.

  “Yes, we are,” Zachariah told him, then picked up his cards.

  They played for a while. A servant came in and replaced their empty brandy decanter two times, and by the morning, after hours of play, all three of them were quite drunk.

  “There,” Hampstead said, as he laid his card on the table. “I win.”

  Zachariah cursed under his breath. He had lost. There was no arguing the results. “Yes,” he agreed, then leaned back in his chair. “The question is: what is it you wish me to do?”

  Hampstead grinned. “Nothing too tedious.”

  That didn’t sound good at all. “Then why do I believe otherwise?” He lifted a brow.

  “Because you’re a suspicious person.” Hampstead finished the brandy in his glass.

  “I have had plenty of reasons to be.” His parents hadn’t left a good impression on him as a child and it spilled heavily into adulthood. “So, tell me.”

  Hampstead sighed. “Fine. I’ve had most of the night to consider what I would ask of you.” He lifted the empty decanter and stared at it, then set it down. “I don’t need anything from you, but you do need to do something for yourself and you never will unless someone makes you.”

  Zachariah had a terrible feeling settling inside his gut. He had made an error and he could not back out of it. This was a debt of honor, after all. “What,” he nearly growled the word out.

  “I want you to,” he paused. “Not court a woman. That’s asking too much, but... become acquainted with one. Talk to them and learn something personal about them. Their likes, needs, wishes...outside of a bedroom. I don’t mean a courtesan or actress, but a proper lady. One that any of us could be seen with in public.” Merrifield folded his hands together. “And Goodland and I will choose the lady for you.”

  Zachariah cursed. “How long do I have to complete this task?”

  “By the end of Christmastide,” he answered. “We shall choose the lucky lady for this endeavor sometime later today.” He winked. “We’ll need to rest a bit first, but we wouldn’t want to keep you waiting for long.”

  “All right.” He wanted to punch something, but he refrained. Lucky lady indeed… Zachariah didn’t believe this unknown paragon would feel fortunate, but perhaps he was wrong. She might think he intended to court her and if so that would be disastrous. “If you’ll pardon me. I think it is past time I returned home.” Without another word, he stood and turned away from his two friends. The night had been pleasant until his friend stabbed him straight in the heart. This was a betrayal he would not soon forget, and he’d ensure that, in some fashion, Hampstead would pay for making him do this.

  Two

  Snow glistened against the trees and along the streets of Mayfair as Violet walked with her sister to their friend Francesca’s home. As the new Duchess of Lindsey, Francesca had been elevated slightly in her social standing. As it was almost Christmastide, there were not a lot of social expectations to contend with. Not that Francesca had ever bowed to the dictates of society. As a member of two of the more prominent families in the upper echelon of the ton, she did as she pleased, regardless.

  “Do you think Lord Hampstead will be there?” Iris asked.

  Violet held back a groan. Her sister would not get over her fascination with the earl. He was a rather good-looking man and she could see why Iris found him appealing. Though she didn’t find him as handsome as Lord Merrifield. The marquess might be an arrogant rogue, but he was quite nice to gaze upon. Once he started talking, though, he ruined the fantasy. “I do not see why he would attend afternoon tea,” she replied in an even tone. Violet didn’t wish to encourage her sister. The sooner she realized the earl would not ask for her hand, the better.

  “No,” she agreed. “He wouldn’t have any reason to attend tea. Though he might pay a call on the duke. It has been known to happen in the past.”

  “That is true,” she agreed. Saints above her sister was incorrigible. “But it is unlikely. The duke’s friends are the type to stay up all night and sleep throughout the day. Afternoon tea is akin to their dawn. I doubt they’ll have changed their habits.”

  There was a time when she would have been as hopeful as Iris. She would have loved to have even the smallest glimpse of Lord Merrifield. Until she had a few actual conversations with him. His boorish attitude helped cure her of her fascination. Perhaps she should encourage Iris to become more acquainted with Lord Hampstead. He might have a similar demeanor and she would be cured of her adoration the same way Violet had been.

  “Do you not think it is unlikely that there are entertainments of that sort readily available this time of year?” Iris asked.

  Violet rolled her eyes. How could her sister still be this naïve? “There are those sorts of entertainments at all times of the year,” she said in an acerbic tone. Perhaps that was harsh, but her sister had to learn the truth now. It was best she didn’t get too embroiled in her fantasy. Gentlemen sought pleasure and entertainment. Especially those of Lord Merrifield and Lord Hampstead’s ilk.

  “You’re so cynical,” Iris said and sighed. “What happened to you? There was a time you used to believe in love.”

  “I was a fool,” she told her sister. What she left unsaid was that she thought Iris was acting rather foolish herself. “Not everyone gets a fairytale ending or anything resembling a happily ever-after. In fact, it is far rarer for one to find true love and the happiness that comes with it. I have decided it is more prudent to be sensible and lower my expectations.”

  Iris might have replied to her statement, but they had arrived at the Lindsey townhouse. Violet lifted her hand and rapped the knocker on the door. It opened shortly after that. The butler greeted them. “Good afternoon Ladies,” he bowed. “Do come in out of the cold.”

  Violet and Iris entered the townhouse and removed their pelisses and handed them to the man. “Is Her Grace ready for us?” Iris asked.

  The butler nodded. “Her Grace is waiting for you in the salon,” he answered. “She asked that you go ahead in unannounced.”

  “Thank you,” Violet answered. She strolled with Iris to the salon. Francesca sat on a settee of dark blue velvet, reading a book. The tea service was already in the room with biscuits and scones.

  She closed the book and greeted them. “It is so good to see you both.” Francesca smiled. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned up in an elegant chignon, but a few loose curls had escaped the pins and framed her face. She wore a light blue day dress that matched her eyes.

  “It’s awfully quiet,” Violet said. “Where is that daughter of yours?”

  “Napping,” Francesca replied. “The nanny is with her if she should wake during our visit, and Matthew is in his study going over the accounts. You have my undivided attention.” She smiled at them. “Come sit and tell me what is new with you both.”

  Violet sat in the chair next to the settee, and Iris sat down next to Francesca. “I have nothing to tell you.” Violet gestured toward the tea service. “Would you like for me to pour?”

  “Yes, please,” Francesca answered.

  “But we do have something to tell her,” Iris interjected. “Did you forget?”

  Violet lifted her gaze to meet her sister’s. “I am afraid I don’t know what you’re speaking about.” She handed Iris her tea, then poured some into another cup for Francesca.

  “The Christmastide ball,” Iris said.

  “A ball,” Francesca exclaimed as she took her cup of tea. “Who is having a ball? I’m going to
miss going to Weston Manor this year. A ball in town would be wonderful.”

  Violet sighed as she poured her own tea. She had hoped Iris might forget about that idea. It seemed as if she hadn’t. “I didn’t realize you had already gotten father’s permission for the ball.”

  “I spoke with him this morning,” she replied in a congenial tone. “He said it was a wonderful idea. I’ve already started planning with the housekeeper. It’ll be in a fortnight.”

  “Splendid,” Francesca said. “Do let me know if I can assist in any way. You may count on my attendance. I can’t answer yet for Matthew. He doesn’t particularly like balls.”

  “My wife is quite right,” the duke said as he entered the room. “Who is throwing a ball?”

  All three of them turned toward the entrance to the salon. The duke had been awfully quiet as he strolled inside. The bigger surprise was that the three gentlemen that followed behind him had been equally so. It appeared as if Iris had gotten her wish. The Earl of Hampstead was visiting. Unfortunately, he also had the Marquess of Merrifield and Viscount Goodland with him. It was not a good indication for how the rest of Violet’s day would go...

  Goodland and Hampstead had sent Zachariah a missive requesting that he join them at Lindsey’s townhouse. He should have known they had an ulterior motive. Ever since he lost at the game of Faro against Hampstead, he had been in a sour mood, and it appeared as if it was unlikely to improve anytime soon. The sight of the three females in the room put him on edge.

  It was clear to him, at that moment, why his friends had required him to visit the duke. One of those three ladies would be his task, and he feared the outcome no matter which lady they chose. The safest lady was, of course, the duchess. She wouldn’t assume or misinterpret his actions as a courtship. The other two, though... He swallowed hard. One was sweet and innocent, and the other drove him to the brink of insanity. Zachariah might hurt the kind one and argue incessantly with the harpy.

  Lady Iris beamed at them all. She was a ray of sunshine while her sister was all clouds and dark skies, and yet Zachariah couldn’t help being drawn to Lady Violet. “We’re having a Christmas ball.” Her excitement was almost infectious. Almost. Zachariah couldn’t quite bring himself to smile at her in return.

  Goodland leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure you’ve already guessed why you 're here.”

  Zachariah nodded and gritted his teeth. “Which one.” He barely pushed the words out of his mouth they were so distasteful.

  “All in good time,” Hampstead said. He set his hand on Zachariah’s arm. “Let’s join them and see how you do, then we’ll assign one of them.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  His stomach roiled. “Please do.” He hated surprises. “Before I decide, I’d rather pummel you than settle this honorably.”

  Hampstead laughed and strolled past him. “A Christmas ball is a splendid idea.” He settled on the settee next to Lady Iris. “When, pray tell, will it be held? Tell me everything.”

  Zachariah didn’t think Lady Iris could possibly smile any brighter, but she practically glowed under Hampstead’s attention. He narrowed his gaze and studied her. Did the chit have a tender for his friend? He smiled for the first time that day. Perhaps this wouldn’t be a complete mess. He could use this information to his advantage and teach Hampstead a lesson. He moved over to the group and settled into a chair next to Lady Violet—the only empty seat. Lady Violet stiffened next to him, but he ignored her. He would not talk to her unless forced to so she needn’t worry.

  “We’re going to have the ball in a fortnight,” Lady Iris answered Hampstead’s question. “I explained that to Francesca before you arrived.” She batted her eyelashes at Hampstead. Zachariah snorted. His friend was playing a game he might end up losing.

  “I hope you plan on inviting all of us.” Hampstead was pouring on the charm. He didn’t really need to. Lady Iris would not have snubbed the earl for anything. Anyone with eyes could tell she favored him. Hampstead tilted his lips upward and then gestured toward Zachariah. Good God, why did he keep including him? “Lord Merrifield was complaining only moments ago about how tedious London is this time of year. There are almost no entertainments.” Zachariah had been complaining all right, but it had nothing to do with London’s entertainments. He could find plenty to occupy his time, and none of it had anything to do with polite society, thank you very much.

  “Oh,” Lady Iris said and glanced at Zachariah, then at Lady Violet. She nibbled on her bottom lip, then frowned. Why had she looked at him and her sister? What did that chit have rambling inside that head of hers? “Violet mentioned earlier something similar.”

  Had she? He glanced at her and frowned. Red had creeped up Lady Violet’s neck and settled into splotches on her cheeks. Something told him that had been nothing like what she’d said. Interesting... “Lady Violet seems to have a lot of opinions.” He met her gaze. “Do tell us what you discussed earlier.” He didn’t think it was possible, but her cheeks were even brighter.

  “I cannot recall the exact words,” she replied in an even tone. He wasn’t certain how she kept the words, even when she was clearly appalled by what her sister had said.

  “Paraphrase them,” he told her. “It isn’t necessary to repeat them verbatim.” He was being rotten, but he couldn’t help himself. She brought out the worst inside of him.

  She met his gaze and held it. “If you insist...”

  “I do,” he replied in a firm and encouraging tone. “I wish to know how you feel about what London has to offer us in these cold months.”

  She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment. “I can say with the utmost certainty that London offers far more to those of the male persuasion than females.” Lady Violet’s cheeks were still heated, but her tone held no embarrassment. There was heat of a different sort in that voice, and it did odd things to him. “I don’t believe you lack amusements, my lord. Your ennui has probably arisen from an insufficiency of imagination.”

  His lips twitched. Lady Violet could dress down a man to nothing with her acerbic wit. He appreciated her intelligence, but he couldn’t let her win. It was a matter of pride, after all. “Then it is fortunate that we have been blessed with your company. How else would us mere mortals survive in such a barren landscape without the wherewithal to envision such a delightful diversion such as you?”

  “You’re mocking me,” she said in a haughty tone. “Since my company is so displeasing to you, I will remove myself. I would hate to make you uncomfortable.”

  Too late for that... The very sight of her made his whole body come to life. He hated how attracted he was to her. It was why he was always so hateful toward her. He had to keep her at a distance, or he might do something foolish. Like kiss her... Hampstead grinned, then glanced at Goodland. The viscount nodded and then met Zachariah’s gaze.

  Bloody hell... He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t know if he would survive until the end of Christmastide. Lady Violet was his challenge, and his friends had no idea how much they were asking of him.

  “There is no need for you to depart,” he told Lady Violet. “I must return home.” And commiserate with a decanter or five of brandy. “There is a bit of business I must see to.” He stood and nodded at everyone. “Have a pleasant day.” He turned toward Lady Violet. He had to start smoothing the way toward friendship with her or he would fail before he had a chance to begin. “My apologies for my rude behavior. Until we meet again.” With those words, he exited the room. He didn’t realize he held his breath until he stepped outside the townhouse.

  Somehow, he would have to remain in control. He could not give into his urge to touch or kiss Lady Violet. If he did, he might find himself falling for her, and that would be his undoing. Love, romance, and marriage ruined the men in his family, and Zachariah had no intention of following in his ancestors’ footsteps.

  Three

  A bitter cold wind blew over Violet. She shiv
ered and cursed the frigid temperature as she pulled her pelisse tighter against herself to keep herself warm. At least it wasn’t snowing... Though the snow that had fallen a couple days ago that didn’t help her current situation. The sun was bright and high in the sky, but it offered no warmth. Instead, it only added to her misery. It helped illuminate the snow and made it almost blinding to look upon.

  “You do not need to be disagreeable,” Iris told her. “It isn’t as bad as you believe it to be.”

  “You are right, of course,” Violet said in a dry tone. “I expect it is in actuality inherently worse.”

  Iris sighed. “Why are you so bad tempered today? I thought you would be excited. Father is allowing us to commission new gowns for the ball. Before this we were ordered to make do with our current wardrobe until it was time to prepare for the new season.”

  Violet liked new gowns. She did not like anything else to do with the upcoming ball. Her sister had openly requested the scandalous gentlemen attend, and it appeared as if they would actually accept her generous invitation. Her sister was undoubtedly excited that the man she wished to marry would be there. She hoped Lord Hampstead wouldn’t break Iris’s fragile heart.

  “A new gown will be lovely,” Violet told her sister. They had finally reached the modiste’s shop. She pulled the door open and gestured for Iris to enter, then followed her inside. “It is the ball I’d rather not attend.”

  “Well,” Iris said in a careful tone. “I’m sorry you’re not as thrilled with the idea of a ball as I am, but I hope you’ll find something enjoyable about it. Do not ruin this for me.” She met Violet’s gaze. “It might be my only opportunity to finally gain Lord Hampstead’s notice.”

  Violet lifted a brow. “Do you not think he noticed you at Francesca’s at tea?” She tilted her head to the side. “He spoke directly to you, did he not?”

  Iris rolled her eyes. “It isn’t the same at all. He had to pay some attention to me there. If he hadn’t, it would have been rude.”