Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman Read Free Page B

not returned home at all and had instead spent yesterday afternoon, evening and today gaming—or wenching—at some low tavern.
    A glance at her father’s face confirmed he had just reached the same conclusion. His expression of alarm turned to chagrin and a pained sadness, and unconsciously he raised a hand to press against his chest.
    Fury swept through her and she could have cheerfully throttled her brother. How could George be so stupid and thoughtless as to make his dramatic entrance in such a deplorablecondition? It was almost as if he expressly desired to agitate and disappoint his already sorely troubled father!
    â€˜Papa, why don’t you head out to the stables and check on your mare? I’ll see George to his room. Come along, now,’ she said to her brother, pleased she’d managed to keep her tone even when what she really wished to do was shriek her displeasure into her feckless brother’s ears.
    Contenting herself with giving George’s arm a sharp pinch as she took it, she steered him towards the stairs. Nodding over her shoulder to Papa, who hesitated before finally approaching the butler for his coat, she began half-pushing, half-pulling her brother upwards.
    â€˜I hope I shall not contract some nasty disease from having to haul you about,’ she snapped as she finally succeeded in wrestling him up the stairs and into his room. ‘How can you still be so drunk at this hour of the afternoon?’
    â€˜Not drunk,’ he slurred, stumbling past her towards the bed. ‘Just…trifle disguised.’
    â€˜Was it not enough that you had to distress Papa by getting yourself sent down from Cambridge for some stupid prank?’ she said, unable to hold her tongue any longer. ‘Must you embarrass him before the servants in his own home? Can you never think of anything beyond your own reckless pleasure?’
    George put his hands over his ears and winced, as if her strident tone pained his head. She hoped it did.
    â€˜God’s blood, Manda, Allie’s right. You’ve become a shrew. Better sweeten up a little. No gentleman’s goin’ to wanna shackle himself to a female who’s always jaw’n at ’m.’
    A pang pierced her righteous anger. Was that indeed how Althea saw her—as a shrill-voiced harpy always ordering her about? But she’d tried so hard to avoid being just that.
    Before she could decide what to reply, George groaned and clutched his abdomen. Amanda barely had time to snatch the pan from beneath the bed before her brother leaned over it,noisily casting up his accounts. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Amanda retreated to the far corner of the room.
    After a moment, George righted himself and sat on the bed, wiping his mouth. ‘Ah, that’s better. Ring for Richards, won’t you? I believe I’ll have a beefsteak and some ale.’
    Amanda couldn’t help grimacing. ‘George, you are disgusting!’
    â€˜Shrew,’ he retorted with an amiable grin—which, despite her irritation and anger, she had to admit was full of charm, even in his present dishevelled condition. This brother of hers was going to cause some lady a great deal of heartache.
    But she didn’t intend it to be her—not for much longer, anyway.
    â€˜If you must debauch yourself, at least have the courtesy to come in through the back stairs, so that Papa won’t see you. Can’t you tell he’s still far from recovered from Mama’s death?
    â€˜Are any of us recovered?’ he flashed back, a bleak look passing briefly over his face before the grin returned. ‘What d’ya expect, Manda? There’s dam—dashed little to do in this abyss of rural tranquillity but drink and game at the one or two taverns within a ten-mile ride. I’d take myself off where my reprehensible behaviour wouldn’t offend you, but Papa won’t allow me to go to London while I wait for the beginning of