London, England
July 5, 1814Jacob Hurst, the Earl of Wortham and future Duke of Ashbrook, sat alone in his study and was—quite successfully in his own opinion—ignoring the letter lying unopened on the flat surface of his large mahogany desk. As he was swirling the amber liquid in his brandy snifter, he felt rather certain that he had absolutely no interest in what could be written on the crisp white paper. That it was the first letter that the Duke of Ashbrook had sent him in five years, well, that hardly mattered. There was nothing his father could want to tell that would interest him. Was there?
Frowning, Jacob gave the unopened letter an irritated look and set down his brandy snifter with a fluid motion as he turned his comfortable chair back around to face the desk. Staring at the paper, he willed it to burst into flames but it lay quite calmly on the desk without as much as a corner beginning to burn or smoulder. Pity, that.
With a self-mocking smile he marvelled at how easily his father could still upset him, and he hadn't even read the letter yet. He heard a light rasp at the door and Dawson, the butler, entered.
"A lady has come to call, my lord," Dawson said as he walked over and held out a silver platter with an ivory calling card.
Taking the card and reading it, he smiled lazily. "Please show Lady Hennessy in," he said. How interesting. Lady Hennessy had shown some interest in him the last few weeks during balls and parties, but he'd not expected her to be someone brazen enough to seek him out in his own home. If anyone were to find out, it would be quite the scandal. Lady Hennessy was married so no one would raise an eyebrow at her visiting a man. However, visiting one of London's most notorious rakes late at night could be considered nothing but scandalous, no matter the lady's station.
A few moments later Dawson showed Lady Hennessy into the study and then left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Jacob gave the woman a lazy look-over, which had her fidgeting nervously. She was a nice-looking woman, but not really to his normal taste as she was quite tall and slender, bordering on too thin. He had always had a fondness for curvy women. Her dark hair was pulled up in a fashionable chignon and her face was rather pretty. As she nervously smoothed her hands over a revealing dress in a daring red fabric, he had to admit that she looked quite fetching.
Ignoring protocol, he remained seated, lifting his brandy snifter and taking a sip of the liquid before finally nodding towards her. "Good evening, my lady. I must admit I had not expected your visit."
Lady Hennessy seemed intrigued by his rudeness, which immediately made him label her as a bored wife. He had a tendency to do that, label people, though he probably shouldn't. It was something which amused him, and he was sorely lacking amusement these days. London held few attractions for him lately. It was the same parties, the same people, and nothing seemed to interest him anymore. He also found that his initial impressions of people were often correct. If he'd occasionally been proven wrong, maybe he'd not be so quick to judge, but the people of the ton were sadly lacking anything even resembling diverse personalities.
Some women only seemed interested in him because he was a rake, while others—probably the proper, decent ones—seemed repulsed by that same fact. Lady Hennessy obviously fit into the first category. Some wives in London found it a game to conduct affairs with the more disreputable rakes in town. Not that he minded, since he was definitely that, and it made sure he never lacked for company.
"I was expecting you at Lady Yates' ball," Lady Hennessy said, bringing him back from his reverie. "When you didn't show, I sought you out at home since I wished to speak with you."
"Very well." He drained the remains of his brandy in one swipe. "Would you like to do it here, or should we move upstairs to the bedroom straight away?"
YOU ARE READING
Kissing the Rake (Howertys #2)
Historical FictionJessica Howerty fell for her brother's best friend when she was a young girl, and never quite recovered. Now, all grown-up, she knows that a disreputable rake like Jacob Hurst is the last thing she should want. After two seasons in London, she's tir...