By Suzanne Enoch
All of London is abuzz with the go back of the totally desirable, lately widowed Diane Benchley. Will she remarry? what's going to she do together with her past due husband’s fortune? Sociey is surprised by way of her announcement—at the Grand Ball, of all places!—that she plans to open an unique gentleman’s gaming membership within the kinfolk mansion. yet nobody is extra surprised than the Marquis of Haybury, Oliver Warren.
Years in the past, Oliver and Diane shared a personal indiscretion. Now Diane threatens to bare Oliver’s so much ungentlemanly secrets…unless he consents to aid her. A infamous gambler—and rake—Oliver is overqualified to coach Diane within the methods and technique of working her institution. yet outstanding a care for Diane may well simply be the largest danger Oliver has ever taken. This time, the one factor he has to lose is his heart…
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Extra resources for A Beginner's Guide to Rakes (Scandalous Brides, Book 1)
Not content with the boring but upstanding young men in my hometown, who I knew all too well, and sure some other romantic destiny awaited me, I had searched diligently for my great love in someone more exotic, and fate had cursed me for my desire by giving me what I thought I wanted. For that reason, I had lost everything but my life. I would not search again. More than that, I told myself that I would run away if love came around once more to plague me. It seemed most unlikely that it would find me in Findloss, and that suited me, even if the village and the weather did not.
I doubt they would do it even if asked; there seems to be an almost superstitious dread about the land animals that live here, including the seals that sometimes sun themselves on shore. I haven’t the stomach for the bloody task either. I never even got the knack of wringing chicken necks, so certainly I could not garrote a rabbit. Instead I had to be content with the occasional egg and bit of cheese to vary my diet. I went first to use the privy. The cottage has a few modern conveniences, meaning that an appropriate area was built against the back of the cottage so one needn’t go out into the night or storm to answer the call of nature.
I had believed him then, since his tastes were so depraved. Now I was not so certain, and the idea that my husband might have been keeping still other secrets from me was saddening as well as disturbing. I caught a glimpse of myself in the small mirror I had hung on the wall; vanity should be hidden away, and this was as “away” as it could get. The eyes that looked back at me were filled up with anxiety and perhaps a bit more whisky than they should be.