Rake's Reflection

Lesley-Anne McLeod

Description

An old favorite with a bright new look.The fifth Earl of Torgreave, Rupert Manningford, has determined to reform his rakish ways. Ten years of dissolute living have brought him no pleasure, and offer no future. He returns to sobriety and eschews gambling and debauchery in his effort to reform. It has even crossed his mind to find and marry a virtuous lady-- if one will accept him--and get himself an heir.His plans are disrupted by the arrival of a beautiful young Scottish woman. Miss Cordelia Tyninghame of Edinburgh. Her appearance reveals a remarkable mystery, a puzzle that defies understanding. Their search for comprehension takes them from the ice of the Frost Fair to the beginning of the London season. Propinquity conducts them to love, but love will lead only to anguish until the mystery is resolved. And that will alter Delia's past, Rupert's future, and the lives of everyone around them, perhaps even allow love to heal their hearts and transform their lives.

Sujets

• Historical romance

Informations

• Publié par: Uncial Press
• Date de parution: 15 novembre 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781601740014
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE RAKE'S REFLECTION
A Regency Romance
 
By
Lesley-Anne McLeod
 
 
Uncial Press       Aloha, Oregon 2013
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein areproducts of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed asreal. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead,is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2003, 2006 by LesleyAnne McLeod 2nd edition,©2013
Previously published by Awe-Struck E-Books
ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-001-4 ISBN 10: 1-60174-001-8
Cover design by Kat at Cocatrice Creative Beautiful girl © Serg Zastavkin Frame © cgtextures.com Chandelier, mirror glass © getty.edu
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of thiswork in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means nowknown or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author orpublisher.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminalcopyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and ispunishable by up to five (5) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Published by Uncial Press, an imprint of GCT, Inc.
Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com
 
For Allan, who has always encouraged me and believed in mywriting. Thank you...I wouldn't have done it but for you.
"Dearest Aunt, We are Within a day now of London,and Morag is Uneasy about our Welcome. I have indeed beenFroward in depending upon a family I have not met, despite myFather's association. But I wished for Adventure and now I haveit. It continues very cold."
CHAPTER ONE
In the dark, frozen streets of London, frost glittered viciously in the feeble lights oftorches and lanterns. Smoke from a million coal fires hung in noxious billows about thesubstantial buildings. The pavements were almost deserted. The few people that wereabroad were mufflered and greatcoated so much as to be unrecognizable to their dearestfriends.
Miss Cordelia Tyninghame leaned forward to stare from her coach window. Thecomfortable but very chill traveling coach lurched on the frost-slick cobbles into a streetlined with important residences.
"The city does not look as I imagined it, Morag," she said ruefully to her companion,a plain, competent woman some twenty years her senior.
"Ye would travel in January, miss. Ye had a desire to see London. Here it is. Nodoubt the place has a pleasanter aspect in May," Mrs. Lochmaddy replied, "'Tis gone seveno'clock--the cold has slowed us."
"Then the welcome will seem doubly warm. It was kind of the old Earl to invite usto reside in his home while we find our bearings."
"I did think some lady of the household might have written. We could go immediateto an hotel."
Delia smiled at her attendant's worried comment. "Indeed we might; but myfather's old friend was firm in his invitation. We shall do very well here. Come Morag,where is your spirit of adventure?"
She drew her bonnet's georgette veil across her face as the coach drew to a stop.The coachman pulled open the door and she gathered her fur-lined crimson wool cloakmore closely about her. The man's broad face was red with cold, and he had to draw downhis muffler to speak.
"Shall I knock, Miss?" he queried, his Scots burr reassuringly familiar.
"Yes, Cullen, if you please, and do close the door."
The coachman obeyed quickly--the air within the coach was warmer than thatwithout but would not long remain so. Delia peered excitedly from the window, andwatched him cross the paving, mount two shallow stairs, and ply the knocker.
The heavy door was opened by a short, plainly dressed man. Delia glimpsed adimly candle-lit entry hall. There appeared to be a brief conversation, and the coachmantrod back down the stairs.
He opened the coach door again and spoke as he let down the step.
"Yon wee man had doots about your arrival, but the housekeeper is within the hall,and she says she expected ye."
Morag Lochmaddy busied herself gathering up Delia's reticule and her cushions,the baskets and bandboxes--all the odds and ends of their long journey. Her silence waseloquent comment on the doubtful wisdom of her mistress's impulsive journey.
Delia entertained no qualms. She stepped down, delighted to be arrived at last. Shewas well aware that Morag had long thought her inclination to visit London quite mad. Shewould admit that her choice of the winter season for travel had been questionable, but sheregretted nothing at this moment.
The horses were steaming in the frigid night air, and the groom at their headslooked chilled to the bone. The 'wee man' descended the steps with a stout housemaid, andDelia nodded to them as they took possession of various articles of her baggage. She pausedbeside her coachman.
"Cullen, you have been most helpful all journey--you and Nairn. I thank you. Youhave earned some rest; I will ensure your accommodation is provided. I am surethe...er...that man will direct you to the mews." The coachman nodded gratefully andmounted his box once more.
"Come Morag, all will be well," Delia said gaily. She ascended the broad stairs, withthe Scotswoman in her wake.
The entry was now thoroughly illuminated, and as Delia entered, it felt mostcomfortingly warm after the chill of the coach.
The Earl's housekeeper was a woman of more than middle age, gray-haired andgrim-faced. She greeted them reservedly. A footman bore away Delia's crimson cloakimmediately, but before she could put back the veil on her feather-trimmed velvet bonnet,and look about her, the housekeeper spoke.
"I am Inniskip, Miss Tyninghame. The Earl is in the library, if you will followme."
Delia had been about to introduce Morag Lochmaddy, but she abandoned theattempt and trailed the spare figure of the older woman across the entry, slightlydiscomposed.
The housekeeper paused before the door of the bookroom. Delia wondered at herhesitation. She experienced unease as the woman beckoned to Morag, who was supervisingthe disposal of the trunks.
"Your maid must come in with you, Miss, and I shall remain, rather than onlyannounce you, if you do not object. The Earl may be a little...irritated...by yourarrival."
Delia's slender frame tautened apprehensively.
"But why? What is amiss? His lordship's letters were welcoming," she faltered. Thehousekeeper would not meet her worried gaze.
Morag hurried across the passage, concern and protectiveness merged in herexpression.
The housekeeper had already entered the book-lined chamber. It was but dimly litby a single branch of candles. Across an expanse of fine India carpet, there was a gentlemanseated at a massive walnut desk; a dark haired man who did not lift his head at the openingof the door.
"What is it, Inniskip?" He seemed to snarl rather than speak. A glittering decanterand an empty goblet stood at his elbow. He plied a quill determinedly.
"Guests, my lord." The housekeeper seemed to brace herself--for what reason Deliacould not imagine.
She directed her anxious gaze from the housekeeper's tense, worsted-clad back tothe gentleman at the desk. He appeared much younger than she had expected of the fourthEarl of Torgreave.
"Guests? The hell you say." He flung down his quill, and lifted his head.
Delia drew in a deep, shocked breath, as she stared at his fine-drawn, dissipatedface. His features were as familiar to her as her own. She reached for Morag, who wasimmediately to hand and seemed as dazed as her mistress. They supported each otherwordlessly.
"This is Miss Cordelia Tyninghame, my lord." The housekeeper hurried intoexplanations, apparently unaware of the distress of the visitors. "She wrote in November tothe late Earl your father, believing him still to be alive. The late Viscount Tyninghame was afriend of the fourth Earl. Miss Tyninghame asked if she could prevail upon that friendshipto visit London from Edinburgh for a few weeks, before the Season. Knowing you would notrespond to the letter, I did."
Torgreave replied slowly, only his clenched hands revealing his immediateunderstanding, and his anger.
"And you believed I needed company; that this would waken me to the error of myways and change my life," the fifth Earl's face was sardonic. "Damn you Inniskip; who doyou think you are--my mother?" He corrected himself. "No, you care more for me than mymother ever did. But this is too much--you have overstepped yourself." He rose, displayinga richly brocaded banyan drawn carelessly over dark pantaloons and a fine lawn shirt. Hewas above an average height. Though lean to the point of emaciation, he exuded a latentstrength.
"And have our guests no tongues?" he mocked, as he rounded the desk. Deliashrank away, imagining a threat in his proximity. "Do Scotswomen not speak in thepresence of men--or has the discovery that your host is not some doddering fool unnervedyou? It cannot be that my reputation has traveled to the Athens of the North."
"Miss Tyninghame deserves your respect, my lord," Morag snapped bravely.
"God preserve us, another interfering servant," jibed the fifth Earl.
Morag's words gave Delia strength. "My lord," she said, "I have suffered a severeshock. It goes beyond your discourtesy and the discovery that the fourth Earl had naught todo with my invitation to London. I beg Mrs. Inniskip will close the door, and that she andMrs. Lochmaddy remain with us. Morag knows what I am about to reveal. Yourastonishment will equal my own."
"What the devil can you mean?"
Delia lifted gloved hands to put back her veil.
"Good God!" he exclaimed. The housekeeper gasped as she saw Miss Tyninghame'sface.
No blemish or deformity caused their dismayed response. On the contrary, hercountenance would always be described as beautiful. But what had shocked Delia and hercompanion silenced the gentleman and left Mrs. Inniskip speechless.
Even in the dim light of just six wax