Regency Rumour: Never Trust a Rake / Reforming the Viscount. ANNIE BURROWS

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Regency Rumour: Never Trust a Rake / Reforming the Viscount - ANNIE  BURROWS


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other half is demonstrating that you are far superior to Miss Waverley, in every way. That you are a woman worth pursuing.’

      She snorted. She could not help it. Richard would never pursue her. She was the one who’d done all the pursuing thus far.

      ‘Come, come, Miss Gibson,’ he said when she did not make him any answer apart from that derisive snort. ‘Have you no pride? Would you not like to see him realise the error of his ways?’

      ‘I have plenty of pride,’ she retorted. The trouble was, it had already taken enough of a battering. ‘Which is exactly why I will do nothing to attempt to make him change his mind.’

      ‘But at least,’ said Lord Deben, ‘you are no longer attempting to deny that there is an admirer, that Miss Waverley has poached him and that you were so upset you ran out of a ballroom to hide behind a set of planters to weep your little heart out.’

      He’d tricked her! He’d spoken of things she’d wanted to keep private in such a way that she’d inadvertently confirmed everything!

      ‘Are you satisfied? Now that you’ve pried all my secrets from me?’

      ‘Not yet,’ he replied calmly, as though he was impervious to her mounting rage. ‘But before I am done, we shall both be, I promise you.’

      ‘I … I …’ She clenched her fists. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’

      ‘It is really very simple. If I were to appear to find you fascinating, other men would want to discover what I see in you. If I swear that I think you are a diamond of the first water, you could have your pick of the rest of the herd, if you find you no longer wish to take up Miss Waverley’s leavings.’

      ‘Oh, for heavens’ sake! I have never heard such arrogance in my whole life.’

      ‘It is not arrogance, merely knowledge of human nature. Most people are like sheep, who follow mindlessly behind their natural leaders. Besides, you are from a good family and comfortably circumstanced. Once I have brought you to public notice and cleared up the misconception about your connection to the Ledbetters, there is no reason why you should not acquire a bevy of genuine suitors.’

      Henrietta hated to admit it, but she could see exactly what he meant. She had often observed that a man with strong convictions could persuade others to follow their lead. And also that what several men liked, others would claim to as well, or risk being thought odd. His stratagem might actually work.

      ‘No, really …’ she began, but even to her own ears her voice lacked conviction. So she was not surprised by his answer.

      ‘You are tempted, I can tell. Wouldn’t you like,’ he said, his voice lowering to a seductive tone, ‘to outshine Miss Waverley? Would you not like to be the toast of the ton? Have your hand sought after? Your drawing room full of suitors?’

      The toast of the ton.

      That … that did sound tempting.

      It wasn’t that she wanted Richard any more, not really. But he had said such hurtful things. And, ignoble though it was, she would dearly love to show him she was more than just a country mouse. To prove that London was not too rackety for her, but, on the contrary, that she could become one of its leading lights. Just imagine what it would be like to have London society at her feet!

      The thing was, Lord Deben moved in the very best circles, not on the fringes where Richard had worked so hard to secure a foothold. He was an earl, with the right to go wherever he pleased, not the son of a country squire who needed to watch every step he took, every friend he made, for fear of being laughed out of countenance.

      For a few moments she indulged in a daydream of attending some glittering ton event, where she danced all night with a succession of earls and marquises. And Richard would be gnashing his teeth in the doorway, because they wouldn’t let him in to tell her how much he regretted missing his chance with her. Miss Waverley would not have even been invited to the event either. Or, no, even better, she would be there, but sitting on the sidelines, ignored as she had once been ignored …

      It was so tempting. She knew Lord Deben was not offering her this chance for her sake, but out of his own desire for revenge, yet if she played along …

      But then she suddenly recalled her father telling her that if she could ever apply the word temptation to something she wanted to do, then she knew she oughtn’t really to be doing it. And felt like Eve reaching out to take that shiny, delicious apple from the serpent.

      ‘You … you are a devil,’ she gasped.

      He chuckled. ‘Because I am tempting you to give in to a side of your nature you do not wish to admit you have?’

      Oh, there was that word again.

      ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ashamed though she was to admit it.

      ‘But you will do it.’

      The glittering vision he’d shown her wavered and took a new form. The faces of the people in it were haughty and cruel. And she, by joining them and giving former friends like Richard the cold shoulder, of inflicting the same misery that she’d borne on Miss Waverley, made her as cruel and hard as they were.

      She didn’t want to become such a person.

      She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would not become that sort of person.

      ‘No,’ she said firmly. Then, a little louder, ‘No. It would not be right.’

      ‘You are refusing my offer?’

      ‘Most certainly.’

      The ungrateful baggage. He had never exerted himself to such an extent for anyone else, or promised so much of his time to aid their cause.

      It was Will all over again. Spurning the hand of friendship which he’d extended and spitting in his face.

      His face shuttered. ‘On your own head be it, then.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      She frowned up at him, those ridiculous feathers bobbing in the breeze. She really had no idea. Over the next few days, society would beat a path to her door, whether she wanted them to or not.

      There was nothing she could do to prevent it. Everyone had seen him driving an unknown female around the park not once, but three times, and all the while engaged in animated conversation. He had taken care not to acknowledge anyone, which would stoke their curiosity about her to fever pitch. Why, they would want to know, would such a renowned connoisseur of female beauty have paid so much attention to this rather vulgarly attired little nonentity?

      They would want to know who she was, what her connection was to him and where she had come from. They would not leave her be until they had pried every last one of her secrets from her. She would very soon regret her stubborn refusal to make her a reigning queen of society. Then—oh, yes, then he would have this proud little Puritan crawling to him.

      ‘You will find out. And when you do, don’t forget that I offered my protection.’

      When they reached the gates the next time he put his team straight through them and took the turn out on to Oxford Street.

      Henrietta could see she had offended him by turning him down, but really, after only these two encounters with him, she was sure it would be better never to tangle with him again. He was too autocratic. Too far out of her social sphere. Too clever and tempting, and worldly and, oh, altogether too much!

      She bade farewell to that vision of a glittering ballroom and all those nobles who’d wanted her to dance with them. She was going home, to her dear aunt and uncle, to Mildred and Mr Crimmer. Back to the world of pantomimes at Covent Garden, and dinners in the homes of businessmen, and balls where she would dance with the sons of aldermen and merchants.

      And when she went home to Much Wakering she would at least do so with a clear conscience.

      Lord


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