The Ton's Most Notorious Rake. Sarah Mallory

she had known his identity. He wished now he had not spoken, but when he had heard her speak his name and had seen her looking with such contempt at Aikers, he had not been able to help himself.

      He remembered how she had turned to him, a smiling apology upon her lips and in her frank grey eyes. Then, when she realised who he was, the look had changed to one of unholy amusement and soon after that, sheer dislike. He was used to ladies fawning over him, or teasing him in an attempt to gain his attention. Never before had one been so openly hostile. A tomcat! He felt a momentary shock, until his sense of humour kicked in and he laughed.

      ‘I fear a longer acquaintance with you will do my self-esteem no good, madam!’

      ‘No good at all,’ she agreed affably.

      She rose and, with a nod of dismissal, she left him. Russ watched her walk away, noting the proud tilt of her head, her straight back and the soft, seductive sway and shimmer of her skirts as she glided across the floor. Perhaps it was a ruse to pique his interest. Perhaps he might indulge the widow in a flirtation. After all she was pretty enough, although nothing like the ripe, luscious beauties that he favoured.

      He decided against it. Compton Parva was a small town and she was the reverend’s sister. In his experience it was better to dally with dashing matrons who could be relied upon to enjoy a brief liaison without expecting anything more lasting, and then, when the time came to part, they would do so amicably and with never a second thought. No. Much better to leave well alone.

      * * *

      Edwin and Molly strolled home from the King’s Head once the dancing had ended. They had decided against using the carriage for such a short journey and the full moon and balmy summer night made it a pleasant walk, but for Molly the enjoyment was dimmed as she waited for the inevitable question from her brother.

      ‘Well, sister, what thought you of Miss Kilburn?’

      Molly was cautious. ‘She appeared to be a very pleasant girl, although we did not have an opportunity to speak a great deal.’

      ‘You would have had more if you had not insisted upon spending all your time with the old ladies such as Lady Currick.’

      ‘Edwin!’

      ‘Well, you must admit, Molly, you are young enough to be her daughter.’

      ‘But I could hardly sit with the young ladies who were waiting for partners. It was embarrassing to watch them all making sheep’s eyes at the gentlemen.’

      ‘You might have stayed with the ladies from Newlands,’ he suggested mildly. ‘Then you might have had more opportunity to become acquainted with Miss Kilburn.’

      ‘Perhaps, but these things are never easy at a ball.’

      Edwin patted her hand, where it rested on his sleeve. ‘Never mind. All is not lost, my dear, we have been invited to Newlands for dinner next Tuesday. I am going fishing with Sir Gerald during the day, but I will come home to fetch you for the evening.’

      Molly’s heart sank, but before she could utter a word he continued, ‘I know you usually visit Prospect House on Tuesdays, but if you take the gig, you will be back in plenty of time to change. And you will have saved yourself a tiring walk.’

      ‘Well, that is the clincher!’ She laughed. ‘Especially since I tell you that I am never tired.’

      ‘There you are, then. It is settled, you will come!’

      She heard the satisfaction in his voice and said nothing more. It was clear that Edwin wanted her there and, after all the help he had given her, how could she refuse?

       Chapter Two

      Molly had never visited Newlands and as Edwin’s carriage rattled along the drive she leaned forward to catch a first glimpse of the house. What she saw, glowing golden in the sunlight, was a rambling stone house in a mix of styles. Its previous, ageing owner had not used it for years, so she could understand the excitement that had erupted in the town when Sir Gerald bought the hunting lodge. The gossip had started several months earlier, when workmen had descended upon the property. Word soon spread that Sir Gerald was a bachelor of substantial means who was planning to bring a large party to the house at the end of the summer. Molly’s sister, Louisa, soon provided even more information, writing to inform her that Sir Gerald was a familiar figure in London and numbered amongst his acquaintances many of the fashionable rakes and Corinthians who flocked to the capital each Season.

      Now those fashionable acquaintances were here, staying only a couple of miles from the town and far too close to Prospect House for Molly’s comfort. Beside her, she heard Edwin chuckle.

      ‘You look disappointed, Molly. Were you hoping Newlands would be so ugly and uncomfortable Sir Gerald and his friends would quit it within the month?’

      ‘Something like that.’

      ‘Do not fret, my dear,’ He patted her hands. ‘Sir Gerald has made it very clear he and his party are here for the sport. Why else would he have bought a hunting lodge?’

      ‘But if the area’s hunting, shooting and fishing do not live up to the party’s expectations, might not Sir Gerald and his louche friends look elsewhere for a little entertainment? And a house full of what they would consider to be “fallen women” is certain to attract their attention.’

      ‘Now you are being unreasonable,’ exclaimed Edwin. ‘You cannot deny that at last week’s assembly the gentlemen from Newlands behaved impeccably. You have no reason to think ill of them.’

      ‘I have Louisa’s letters,’ replied Molly darkly.

      ‘Louisa has nothing better to do with her time than pass on salacious gossip, for the most part untrue or exaggerated. Come, Molly, you are being unfair to Sir Gerald and his friends. When people are disparaging about the inhabitants of Prospect House, you tell them that one should not make hasty judgements, yet here you are doing just that.’ Edwin squeezed her fingers, pressing home his point. ‘I am sure our new neighbours will have no interest at all in Prospect House, and if they do...’ He spread his hands. ‘You cannot keep your charges locked away for the duration of Sir Gerald’s visit, my dear.’

      ‘I know that,’ she admitted, as the carriage pulled up before the house. ‘But even if the gentlemen have no designs upon them, I very much fear one or two of the girls might find the presence of such handsome and fashionable gentlemen in Compton Parva...distracting.’

      ‘My dear, if they are ever to make their way in the world again then they will have to learn to withstand the attractions of personable gentlemen.’

      ‘Of course.’ Molly clasped her hands together. ‘But you saw how the ladies at the assembly reacted. Such fashionable young bucks, with all the glamour of the town clinging to them, are particularly attractive to susceptible young women.’

      Edwin laughed. ‘Do you really believe that, Molly?’

      She thought of Beau Russington with his dark looks and careless charm and felt her stomach swoop.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ she whispered, her mouth suddenly dry. ‘I really do.’

      * * *

      Sir Gerald and his friends were waiting for them in the drawing room. With the exception of Mrs Molyneux, Miss Kilburn’s aged companion, they had all been present at the assembly where introductions had been made. As greetings were exchanged, Molly took the opportunity to study the company. She had been reassured at the assembly to see that Mrs Sykes and Lady Claydon were homely matrons, while Agnes Kilburn and the Misses Claydon had soon been at ease and mixing with the young ladies of the town. They were all very lively, but not at all the dashing sirens she had feared. This second meeting appeared to confirm her view, which was a relief, and she turned her attention to the gentlemen. Their host, Sir Gerald, was the most genial looking of them all, while Sir Joseph and Mr Flemington were the most flamboyant in their dress. But there could