Waking Up With a Rake Read Free Page A

and his friends to do the same despicable thing to someone else’s sisters. Rhys balled his fingers into fists. The urge to throttle Alcock to within an inch of his miserable life was almost more temptation than he could resist.
    “I wouldn’t be so hasty to be noble were I you,” Alcock warned. “You see, aside from information about the true traitor of Maubeuge, I can amass enough evidence to damn each of you as well.”
    “You lie.” Rhys narrowed his eyes at Alcock.
    “Perhaps,” the man said with a deceptively affable smile. “It may well be that my informant is untrustworthy. But people are ever willing to believe the worst, whether it’s true or not. Should I choose to launch an investigation—and rest assured, if you fail to comply with my wishes, I will do so—you will each be brought before Parliament to answer for your crimes. And this time, no amount of influence from your families will save you from the full weight of the law.”
    Rhys’s throat constricted. If convicted, they’d be fortunate to escape with transportation. More likely, they’d be made examples of in a public execution. But worse than that, Rhys dreaded further shame to his family.
    Alcock seemed to sense his dread.
    “Sir Jonah, your brother’s grasp has exceeded his reach in courting the daughter of an earl, and according to my information, the lady seems willing. But what do you think a public trial will do to his hope of wedding Lady Penelope?” Alcock asked.
    Jonah’s shoulders slumped a fraction of an inch. Rhys knew his friend was caught.
    “And you, Lord Nathaniel,” Alcock went on, hooking his thumbs under his lapels as if preparing to launch a filibuster. “I believe your younger sister is coming out next Season, isn’t she? How would a convicted traitor in the family affect her chance of making a good match?”
    A muscle in Nathaniel’s cheek ticked, but he said nothing. Like Rhys, Nathaniel was devoted to his sisters.
    “And you, Lord Rhys, of all people, should wish to avoid further disgrace. Your father may try to hide it, but word about town is that the marquis is not as hale and hearty as he tries to appear,” Alcock droned on. “Imagine what it would do to Lord Warrington to see his son in the well of the House of Lords. In shackles.”
    The familiar red haze that was a precursor to visions from his past threatened to descend again, but Rhys shook it off. He had to keep his wits about him. Sometimes when the dark spells overtook him, he lost track of where he was. Wandering in the past, he sometimes feared he’d never find his way back. He couldn’t afford flashes of Maubeuge intruding into his present reality. So he forced one foot in front of the other and returned to the chair by the fire.
    One at a time, his friends followed suit.
    “Very wise, gentlemen,” Mr. Alcock said. “Why be my enemies when you can be my friends?”
    Moving with speed that surprised even him, Rhys leaped up, grasped Alcock by the collar and lifted him off his shiny-booted feet. The man’s eyes bulged as his hands clawed at Rhys’s grip, but he couldn’t wiggle free.
    “You will never be our friend, Alcock,” Rhys said, giving him a quick shake, like a terrier would a rat. “Answer one question and you won’t see us again until we come to collect what you owe us.”
    “What’s that?” he croaked.
    Rhys glanced at his friends. When they both nodded grimly, he lowered Alcock until his toes brushed the ground.
    “Who are we to seduce?”

Chapter 3
    Two weeks later
    Barrowdell Manor in the Lake District
    “For heaven’s sake, poppet, the duke’s new emissary is waiting,” her mother said, hastily tucking a fichu into the neckline of Olivia Symon’s drab bombazine day gown. When Princess Charlotte died, the Symon household had donned full mourning. Black was not Olivia’s best color, and adding more of it so close to her face only served to wash her out completely. “Hurry up, child.”
    “I’m not a