To Pleasure a Prince Read Free

heaven, what a servant!” Regina told Cicely, as he hurried up the main staircase. “You’d think his master was a troll from the way that fellow acts.”
    “They do call him the Dragon Viscount,” Cicely said.
    Regina glanced up at the Tintoretto portraying St. George slaying the dragon, the Draker coat of arms with its black dragon rampant, and the mahogany newel post with a coiled dragon atop it. “I can’t imagine why,” she said dryly.
    Cicely followed her gaze. “Not just because of that. Why, I heard that only last year he reduced a bookseller in the Strand to tears over some moldy old book the man had promised to him, then sold to Lord Gibbons. And he actually struck one of His Highness’s messengers last month.”
    “I also heard that Lord Maxwell keeps a goat in his bedchamber, but you don’t see me sending someone to milk it. One mustn’t let idle gossip govern one’s actions.”
    “There’s more than just rumor surrounding his lordship.” Cicely breathed heavily, having her usual trouble with her weak lungs. “What about his treatment of his mother? Don’t you remember the horrible claims Lady Draker made when she used to visit your parents?”
    “I remember that Lady Draker had a knack for dramatic exaggeration. Besides, his lordship can hardly be as awful as she claimed and raise a sister as lovely as Louisa. Who, incidentally, says that her mother lied about her son’s supposed mistreatment.”
    Cicely looked mutinous. “Miss North is probably too terrified of her brother to say anything else.”
    “She doesn’t act terrified, I assure you. She seems to think he walks on water.” Indeed, the incongruity between Louisa’s and society’s respective images of Lord Draker intrigued her. Even if she hadn’t needed to pay this visit, she might have come just to determine his character. “That’s why Louisa won’t accept my brother’s attentions without his lordship’s permission. Because she respects Lord Draker’s opinion.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Shh,” Regina interrupted. “Listen.”
    The butler’s plaintive voice wafted down the stairs. “B-But milord, what shall I tell them?”
    “Tell them I’m indisposed,” answered a deep male voice. “Tell them I’m in India. I don’t care what the hell you tell them as long as you send them away.”
    “Yes, milord,” came the butler’s meek reply.
    Regina scowled. So Lord Draker refused to let her have her say? Not if she could help it. Spotting the servant stairs down the hall, she started for them.
    Cicely grabbed her by the arm. “What are you doing? You can’t just—”
    “Stay here and keep the butler occupied.” Regina shook off her cousin’s weak grip. “I mean to speak with Lord Draker one way or the other.”
    “But, my dear—”
    Regina didn’t stay for further reproaches. If his lordship thought she would drive twenty miles from London only to be put off like some importunate creditor, he was in for a surprise.
    Upstairs in the lengthy hall, it took her only minutes to find—after peeking inside the rooms behind every other massive oak door—the one that must lead to his lordship’s study. She hesitated just long enough to examine herself in a nearby mahogany-framed mirror. Cheeks pleasingly flushed from their drive, check. New Bourbon hat firmly in place, check. Matching lilac mantle that gaped open to reveal just a hint of bosom, check. Lord Draker did not stand a chance.
    Before she could lose her nerve, she opened the door and swept inside, right into the dragon’s cave. Except that it wasn’t lined with blackened stones smelling of sulfur…but with gilded leather smelling of ink. Books. Thousands of books marched around the walls in varying shades of brown and dark blue, further proclaiming their owner’s education and wealth.
    The room was enormous, probably spanning the entire length of the house. How could a person own this many books, let alone read them?
    Sweet heaven. She was in deep