The Redemption of Lord Rawlings Read Free

pigtails.
    She smirked to herself and pushed the door open. He shouldn’t have any trouble with that after today. She made sure of it. As kisses went, it wasn’t the most delightful thing she had ever experienced. It felt awkward and rushed, but she hadn’t any experience in the matter, so she steeled herself and tried as hard as she could to pretend to know what she was doing.
    Rawlings hadn’t responded, but he seemed a bit too shocked to say anything. And, saints alive, what was he doing out in the rain anyway? He’d catch his death that way. But her very best friend Rosalind had stopped for a visit to relay the message that he was sitting on that very bench staring at the sky. Noting it was easy to see his state of distress as she had passed by with her father in their curricle. And Rosalind was under strict instructions to help Abigail in any way possible. For she knew, as most true friends did, that it was of the utmost importance that Abigail secure a love match above all costs. So without thinking of the consequences, she ran out as fast as she could to try and catch him.
    More than likely he thought her some silly chit out to ruin herself, when she was actually his savior. He just didn’t realize it yet.

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Not that this author finds rakes to be horribly dangerous. Take the besotted Earl of Renwick, for example. Though this author is old enough to remember him in his wilder days, it seems marriage has been kind to that devilishly handsome man. A word of wisdom, dear debutantes, rakes make the best husbands, all rakes except the Earl of Rawlings.
    — Mrs. Peabody’s Society Papers
     
    Phillip let loose a long and loud string of curses as he burst through the front doors of his townhome.
    “ I say, are you foxed?” James Gregory Harris, Marquess of Whitmore asked.
    Phillip cursed under his breath and began wringing out his jacket on the marble floors before handing it to one of his remaining servants. “Do you mind explaining to me how you are on such good terms with my servants, Whitmore?”
    “ Easy. I paid them. Seems money has been a little tight around here, eh?”
    Phillip was in no mood to defend himself or fight with his only remaining friend. What he needed was a blasted drink, but cuts within his household and staff had to be made, which all but snuffed out his habit of brandy and port. “Is there a purpose for your intrusion, Whitmore, or are you merely here to vex me?”
    “ Although vexing sounds enticing, I was merely here to tell you the good news. I’m to be married.”
    Phillip was silent. All he could hear was the drip of water hitting the marble floor and his own ragged breathing. Was everyone marrying now? First Nicholas, then Sebastian, and now Whitmore? Apparently something was in the whiskey, which also explained why Phillip hadn’t shared in any of their luck, since he had no spirits of any kind.
    “ Married?” he repeated more to himself than to anyone else.
    Whitmore smirked. The undeserving churl had all the luck. “Why, yes. Since my inheritance just last month, it appears I have also acquired a fiancée. Imagine the good fortune, it seems to pile up around me, does it not?”
    “ Apparently it does.” Phillip shook his head and motioned for Whitmore to follow him into his sparse study. “You know, not all of us are as fortunate as you, to have a brother die and leave us to inherit the title of marquess.”
    “ Deuced good luck, don’t you think?” Whitmore winked. “I hear she’s a beautiful little chit. Pure and untouched. I can’t say I’m displeased in this matter. I have yet to set eyes on her, but I imagine my parents would not have settled for anything less than perfection. Pity I’ll have to let go of Daisy for a while, as well as my newest conquest.”
    “ Ah, the mistresses. How does the sweet Daisy fare?” Phillip was glad for the change of subject. Marriage left a bitter taste in his mouth and seemed to be haunting him every