Lorraine Heath - [Lost Lords of Pembrook 03] Read Free

charming. Flirtatious. Let them see that you are made of stern stuff, even when grieving. Convince them that you would be a satisfactory companion.”
    “You intend to see me married off so quickly, even though I am in mourning? It’s not proper.”
    “Proper? Dear girl, believe me, you are considered anything but proper. They will overlook the impropriety. Now then, be a good sport about it. If not for me, then for Father. If he can look down from above, he will be most pleased to know you shall never want for anything.”
    With that, he strutted from the room and slammed the door in his wake. Hearing the grating of the key in the lock, she sank back into her chair. Her chest ached, her throat so thick with tears that she thought she might suffocate. She had lived such a blessed life, spoiled and pampered. She knew not all by-blows were fortunate enough to be treated as warmly and kindly as she’d been by her father.
    She supposed she couldn’t blame Geoffrey—she couldn’t bring herself to think of him as Wortham, not yet. That name belonged with her father—for wanting to be rid of the burden of caring for her. He would be searching for his own wife soon. Best to see his father’s daughter well situated first and out of the household. She suspected once she left here, she would rarely see him—if at all.
    He was right, of course. She wasn’t exactly proper. She hadn’t had a coming out, a Season, and certainly not a presentation to the queen. She’d never attended any balls, although she’d often fantasized about doing so and capturing some handsome lord’s fancy. But she’d not been saddened by her lack of a social life, because her father had always had a way of making her forget exactly what she was.
    Geoffrey now carried the weight of her nonexistent place in Society on his shoulders. At least he wasn’t striving to foist her off on some common man—a merchant or a tradesman or even a servant. He was seeking to find her a lord to marry. He was attempting to secure for her what her father had failed to accomplish: a place in Society.
    That he was doing it so abruptly and soon . . . well, she would be grateful that he was doing it at all. She didn’t think she would be able to carry off being flirtatious this evening, but she could be charming.
    In memory of her father, of his great love for her, she would assist Geoffrey as much as possible in securing herself a fine husband.

 
    Chapter 2

    T he invitation came because of a debt owed. Owed to him. All debts were owed to him, while he owed no man anything. Not his friendship, not his loyalty, not his kindness. And certainly not his hard-earned coin.
    But the Earl of Wortham, a man of little worth, Rafe Easton thought snidely, did owe him a good deal of coin, which was the reason that he was allowed into the earl’s magnificent library. He wondered briefly how long it would be before it was stripped of all the former owner’s prized possessions. He had left his son with little, and what remained had been quickly gambled away in Rafe’s club.
    The man wanted his credit extended, and so for tonight he pretended a friendship with the Rakehell Club’s owner.
    Drinking fine Scotch that the earl could scarce afford, Rafe lounged insolently in a chair near the fireplace while the other lords mingled about, chuckled, chatted, and downed far too much liquor. They were a randy lot. He could sense their eagerness and anticipation hovering thickly about the room.
    The young earl had a sister, although he didn’t recognize her as such. No, more precisely, she was his father’s daughter, born on the wrong side of the blanket. But on his father’s deathbed, he’d given his word that he would see to her care, and that was what tonight’s gathering was about.
    Finding someone willing to see to her care.
    Wortham swore she was a virgin, and that knowledge had some of the lords salivating, while others had sent their excuses. Rafe didn’t give a whit one way