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Authors: Georgina Devon Nicola Cornick Diane Gaston

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Lucas Kestrel,’ Rebecca said feelingly, ‘which is not

a fate I would wish on anyone.’

Nan’s blue eyes lit with laughter. ‘What did you

think of him, Becca? I doubt that
he
aroused any sis-

terly feelings in you. That is not the sentiment he gen-

erally produces in the ladies.’

‘No,’ Rebecca said. ‘I imagine that it is not.’ She

thought of all the feelings that Lucas Kestrel had

aroused in her: the anger and the edgy excitement and

the longing. She fidgeted with her teacup, impatient

with herself, wishing that it was possible to dismiss

Lucas from her thoughts.

‘Have you met him?’ she asked.

‘Only in passing,’ Nan said with every evidence of

regret. ‘He is not one of Bosham’s set.’

‘Nor a member of the Archangel Club?’

Nan put her head back and gave a peal of laughter.

‘I should think not! Lord Lucas Kestrel is far too

straight for the Angels!’

Rebecca raised her brows. She did not like the sense

of relief the news brought her. ‘I thought him a rake.’

‘Oh, he is, but...’ Nan wrinkled up her nose ‘...his

Nicola
Cornick

51

tastes do not run to the exotic.’ She shot Rebecca a

curious look. ‘Did you like him, Becca?’

Rebecca reached for her pieces of paper and idly

sketched a few kestrels. She was good at drawing

hawks. Their grace and fearless pride had always at-

tracted her. She felt tired. It had been Lucas Kestrel

who was responsible for the fact that she had overslept

that morning, for even after the carriage had finally

delivered her home the night before she had found that

she could not sleep immediately. Lord Lucas’s face

was before her when she closed her eyes. She imag-

ined that she could still feel his touch against her skin.

She could hear his voice and see the way his eyes had

darkened with disturbing intentness when he had fo-

cussed on her. No man had ever stirred her in such a

way before.

After two hours of tossing and turning in her cold

bed, she had risen to warm some milk and make her-

self a soothing drink with nutmeg and honey. And

finally she had slept, only to be troubled by a tumble

of broken and erotic dreams that left her wide awake,

flushed and aroused, and distressed to find herself so.

‘Lord Lucas is like many of his type,’ she said now.

‘He is arrogant, overbearing and damnably sure of

himself. I always avoid men of that stamp.’

There was a great deal more feeling in her voice

than she had intended and Nan opened her eyes very

wide.

‘So there
is
a man who can wring a passionate re-

sponse from you, Rebecca! How very interesting.’

Rebecca made an exasperated noise and folded her

52

The
Rake’s
Mistress

arms tightly. ‘Nan, the only feeling I have for Lord

Lucas Kestrel is one of extreme dislike!’

‘What better welcome could a man have?’ an

amused masculine voice said from the doorway.

‘Good morning, Miss Raleigh. It is such a pleasure to

see you again!’

Lord Lucas Kestrel was standing with his hand on

the latch and now he swung the door closed behind

him and stepped into the workshop. He was immac-

ulately dressed in a dark-green morning coat and buff

pantaloons, and his black hussar boots gleamed almost

blue in the patches of sunshine that speckled the floor.

Under his arm was a brown paper package tied up with

string, which he brought across to the table and pre-

sented to Rebecca with a small, ironic bow. Rebecca,

conscious that her face was bright pink and that she

was extremely flustered, muttered an incoherent word

of thanks and wished that she might be anywhere other

than right there under Lucas’s laughing hazel gaze.

She felt at an extreme disadvantage.

Nan was not so reticent. She slid from the
chaise-

longue
with a certain feline grace and held out a hand

to the newcomer.

‘I fear that my friend’s powers of speech have de-

serted her, my lord, so that I am obliged to introduce

myself. Anne Ast-ley, delighted to make your acquain-

tance.’

Lucas took her hand and bowed over it with an old-

fashioned style that clearly charmed her.

‘Miss Astley. Lord Lucas Kestrel, at your service.’

‘We were speaking of you only a moment ago,’ Nan

Nicola
Cornick

53

said artlessly, making Rebecca glare at her. ‘Rebecca

was telling me of her experience last night.’

Lucas’s mouth quirked into a grin. He shot Rebecca

a wicked sideways look.

‘I hope that Miss Raleigh found it as bracing an

incident as I did myself,’ he said.

‘I am happy to say that I do not require my life to

be braced by such events,’ Rebecca said. She gestured

to the parcel. ‘I thank you for your kindness in return-

ing the cloak, my lord, but as I said last night, it was

quite unnecessary for you to call in person.’

Lucas smiled into her eyes and she felt his gaze like

a physical touch. ‘Wild horses would not have kept

me away from you, Miss Raleigh,’ he said gently.

‘Well,’ Rebecca said, feeling her temper start to

simmer at the mocking light in his hazel eyes, ‘I wish

that I could offer you some refreshment as reward for

your persistence, Lord Lucas, but I fear that Miss Ast-

ley and I have just taken tea. Besides, I am persuaded

that you must be quite extraordinarily busy, so I shall

not delay you a moment longer.’

Lucas laughed. ‘You quite mistake the case, Miss

Raleigh, for I have set aside the entire morning in

order to come and see you.’

‘Then I am desolated to disappoint you, my lord,’

Rebecca said, ‘but I must continue with my work.’ She

turned away, intending it as a dismissal, but was very

conscious that Lucas had not left.

In fact, he was politely holding the door for Nan

with the words, ‘Miss Astley, I do believe that your

carriage is waiting. It was a pleasure to meet you...’

Rebecca hurried across the workshop. To be left

54

The
Rake’s
Mistress

alone with Lucas Kestrel was not in the least what she

wanted. She felt quite breathless at the thought. She

caught Nan’s sleeve between urgent fingers. ‘Nan,

wait! There is no need for you to hurry away.’

‘I fear that I must be at the Club within the hour,’

Nan said, smiling at Lucas with a complicity that Re-

becca found both frustrating and irritating. ‘I shall be

back soon to see how you fare, Becca. In the mean-

while, think about Lord Fremantle’s offer. It is a good

one.’ She glanced at Lucas again. ‘You will receive

none better.’

Rebecca could feel Lucas’s quizzical gaze on her

face and coloured up again. Nan leaned over and

kissed the air by Rebecca’s cheek, then gave Lucas a

flirtatious look over her shoulder. ‘I shall hope to see

you again soon, my lord.’

‘The pleasure will be all mine,’ Lucas said, with an

expressive lift of his brows.

Rebecca watched him give Nan his hand up into the

carriage. She was sorely tempted to bolt the door

against him whilst he was outside, except that he

struck her as the sort of man who would probably

climb in at the window. So she waited, her jaw set, a

stormy look in her eyes.

‘You look quite put out, Miss Raleigh,’ Lucas said,

as the coach rolled away down the street. He closed

the workshop door quietly and came across to her.

‘Whatever can have happened to put you in so poor a

temper?’

Rebecca pressed her lips together hard. ‘I apologise

if I appear unwelcoming, my lord. The fact of the mat-

ter is that I have an important commission to fulfill

Nicola
Cornick

55

and have already lost time today through Miss Ast-

ley’s visit. You must excuse me—’

‘Must I?’ Lucas murmured. He took a step closer,

his eyes on her face. ‘But I have gone to an inordinate

amount of trouble just to find you, Miss Raleigh.’

‘Then you would have done better to save yourself

the effort, my lord,’ Rebecca said, above the swift

beating of her heart, ‘for I have no time to spare.’

Lucas’s gaze searched her face. ‘You are mighty

quick to dismiss me, Miss Raleigh. What if I too had

an offer to make you?’

Rebecca’s heart raced. She turned away, retreating

behind her desk. ‘I am not interested in the type of

offer a gentleman might make to me,’ she said. ‘They

usually involve the sort of work that is...not my

forte...’

Lucas was following her, his footsteps slow, soft

and inevitable. He was smiling. ‘And what sort of of-

fers might those be, Miss Raleigh?’

‘You know full well,’ Rebecca said, her mouth dry.

‘Yes, I think that I do.’ Lucas came to stand in front

of her. His voice hardened. ‘They are the kind of prop-

ositions made by the likes of Lord Fremantle, are they

not?’ His gaze drifted over her thoughtfully. ‘Have

you ever accepted such a commission, Miss Raleigh?’

The angry sparks lit Rebecca’s blue eyes. ‘You

should mind your own damned business, my lord.’

Lucas’s smile deepened. ‘You could become my

business, Miss Raleigh.’

‘You mistake, my lord. That could not happen.’

‘No?’ Lucas tilted his head thoughtfully. There was

56

The
Rake’s
Mistress

a challenge in his eyes. Rebecca saw it and her heart

stuttered.

‘No.’ She did not sound even a quarter as certain

as she would have liked.

Lucas watched her for a few seconds, his expression

very still, then he drove his hands into his pockets.

‘We shall see. As it happens, you quite mistake me,

Miss Raleigh. The offer I intended to make was a com-

mission for a piece of work.’

Rebecca was startled. ‘A commission?’

‘Of course.’ Lucas’s dark hazel gaze mocked her.

‘I am quite offended that you think me callow enough

to offer you
carte
blanche
when what I really wanted

was a set of engraved glasses as a wedding present for

my brother.’

Rebecca was neatly trapped and she knew it. She

had not the slightest belief that Lord Lucas had even

thought of commissioning a piece of engraved glass

before the previous night. Very likely the matter of

glass engraving had not been one on which he had had

any opinions at all. Yet she could scarcely accuse him

of lying...

The words broke from her. ‘I cannot believe, my

lord, that you have had a long-cherished intention of

ordering a piece of engraved glass for your brother’s

wedding!’

Lucas laughed. ‘Of course I have not, Miss Raleigh,

but there is a perfectly simple explanation. I have been

cudgelling my brains this fortnight past to think of

what I might give Richard and Deborah as a wedding

present. When I met you—’ he gestured airily ‘—the

problem was solved.’

Nicola
Cornick

57

Rebecca sighed heavily. It was a plausible enough

explanation and, goodness knew, she should be grate-

ful for the commission. A piece of work done for an

eminent family like the Kestrels might lead to other

orders and before long her business would be flourish-

ing again. And beggars could not be choosers, no mat-

ter how much she wished to avoid Lord Lucas Kestrel.

‘I take it,’ Lucas said lightly, ‘that you will not be

declining my offer?’

‘No,’ Rebecca said guardedly. The words seemed

to stick in her throat. ‘I should be happy to accept.’

‘Capital!’ Lucas smiled at her. ‘You must tell me

how we proceed, Miss Raleigh.’

Rebecca waved at the display shelves. ‘If you would

care to take a look at the work I have on display, my

lord, you may choose the type of glass you want and

the design that you would like me to engrave on it.’

Lucas nodded. He moved across to look at the

shelves. ‘I may take a little while, Miss Raleigh, so

pray do not let me distract you from your work. I shall

come over when I have decided.’

Rebecca felt a little put out. It was true that time

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