Page 43 of A Rake's Redemption
“You really are a rake.”
Alex shrugged. “You said yourself that every married woman of thetonhas heard about the negligees thanks to that silly club. Except for the rare, faithful wife, the rest of them want one, too.”
“Was that your intent when you started gifting your lovers?” Caroline asked.
“Those women are notlovers,” Alex replied. “You know better than anyone why I cuckold my damn brother’s friends.”
Caroline was silent a moment, her eyes brightening suspiciously, and he felt like a cad. “I am sorry. George insulted you as much as he did me.”
“Hardly,” Alex said. “What he did to you was totally dishonorable.”
She shook her head quickly. “I am just glad I found out how shallow the man is before…before I made more foolish mistakes. Well, I’ve told myself not to think of it, although I would not mind getting a bit of revenge myself.” She glanced at Alex. “Perhaps put a crack in that porcelain veneer that Amelia wears like a shield of perfection?”
“Amelia takes care not to mar that image,” Alex said, taking Caroline’s coat from a peg in the entryway and holding it for her.
Caroline slipped it on. “It would really be fitting irony if Amelia were caught in a compromising position with another man, would it not?”
It was Alex’s turn to shake his head. “She would not do that.”
Caroline considered him. “You think she actually loves your brother?”
Alex laughed. “I doubt she knows the meaning of the word. Beneath that porcelain perfection, Amelia is made of cast iron. The only thing that matters to her is the title of duchess. She would not risk ruining that.”
“Taking a lover does not necessarily ruin wives,” Caroline said, “as you should very well know.”
“True enough,” Alex agreed, “but George is different. He has always been extremely fixated over his possessions. When we were children, he would not let anyone play with his toy soldiers or use his wooden sword or even ride his pony. When he made prefect at Eton, he had his first real taste of power. He liked the control.”
“He never could control you, though,” Caroline said softly, “which is why he took Amelia from you.”
“And he is welcome to her,” Alex replied, surprised that he no longer felt bitter about it. “George is a perfectionist. He has to have the best. No one can deny that Amelia is beautiful, but she is a possession. If she were to shame him in any way, he would probably discard her like he did his broken toys. And she knows it.”
“Then she had better mind herPs andQs,” Caroline said as she buttoned her coat and picked up her ridicule from a nearby chair. “Still, I would not mind seeing her get her comeuppance, would you?”
“I suppose not,” Alex answered as he opened the door for Caroline, “but I think we are the lucky ones.”
“You may be right,” Caroline said as she took her leave, but she seemed thoughtful.
…
“You do not have to look at me like I have taken leave of my senses,” Alex told Brice on Wednesday afternoon. He’d ridden over to his friend’s place to get a better look at the two mares Brice had purchased from John Adler. “These are really fine horses.”
“Just because you know good bloodlines, does not mean you have not lost your mind,” Brice replied. “Do not try to change the subject.”
“Then forget I mentioned it in the first place,” Alex said.
Brice rounded behind the mare and came alongside him. “Too late. The idea is stuck in my mind. Which make me wonder if perhaps insanity is contagious?”
“It is not insane to escort Inis to a ball. That is what I am training her for.”
“This whole scheme sounded daft when you first mentioned it,” Brice said, “but to expect Inis to maintain poise and composure in front of royalty is ludicrous.”
“She’s quite intelligent,” Alex replied.
“That may be,” Brice responded, “but think, man.Englishgirls born to aristocracy and instructed in proper etiquette since they could toddle still tremble and quake when presented at Court. How do you expect anIrishgirl, maybe from peasant stock, to handle that? She will break down, and you will be the laughingstock of theton, not your brother.”
“I have no intention of becoming a laughingstock, nor will I allow Inis to be humiliated.”
“Fine words, old chap.” Brice unhitched the mare’s halter lead from the post and turned her toward the open paddock gate. “I still think you are on a fool’s mission.”
