Free To Sin With A Scoundrel by Cara Elliott

ambitious wife, had
     been willing to barter a handsome dowry for a lofty title. Leaving their daughter to pay the real price.
    “Is she pretty?” asked Henry.
    “Very,” he replied slowly.
    Henry’s mouth curled in a wistful smile of longing. “Brains and beauty. A rare combination indeed.”
    Lucas was suddenly struck by an unsettling realization. In all the years that he had lived with his uncle, he had never asked
     him why he had never married.
    Moving back to the sideboard, he refilled his glass. “Were you never tempted to take a wife?”
    “Ah, work is a hard enough mistress.” His uncle laughed, but the sound was strangely hollow.
    Lucas looked away, the brandy burning the back of his throat. What a selfish sot he had been for never being curious about
     his guardian’s life. Henry had always been there to listen, to share every little triumph and disaster. He had never thought
     to return the favor.
    Youth was naturally self-centered, supposed Lucas. But platitudes didn’t dull the edge of his regret. “No doubt science is
     satisfying—up to a point,” he said softly. “But surely you looked up from your books once in a while.”
    Henry didn’t answer for some moments. “There was a young lady once. A long time ago.” He stared down at his sherry. “We met
     at a lecture… the professor from Oxford was a prosy bore, and as I sat squirming in my chair I caught her eye, and we both
     made a face. Afterward, I took her to Guenter’s, where we discovered that we shared a taste for strawberry ices and botany.”
    “Did you not pursue the relationship?” asked Lucas softly.
    “With a passion.” Henry crooked a tiny smile. “Though you probably can’t imagine me interested in aught but ink and vellum.”
     He sighed. “Her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Sprague. Her father taught philosophy at Merton College.”
    “And?”
    Henry took a long swallow of his sherry. “Unfortunately, she was as delicate as some of the ancient manuscripts we loved to
     study. Six months after we met, she died of consumption.”
    Lucas felt a lump form in his throat. “I am very sorry.”
    “Don’t be. Life is too short for regrets.”
    “I should have… known,” he added lamely.
    “You were just a boy at the time.” His uncle gave a nonchalant shrug. “As for now, it’s ancient history—not a subject that
     ever appealed to your fancy.”
    He forced himself to grin at the joke.
    “You need not look so queasy, my dear boy. I’m quite content with my life,” finished Henry.
    Rather than seize the chance to drop the subject, Lucas pressed on. “Did you never meet anyone else?”
    “Never really cared to, I suppose,” replied Henry. “I had my books. And you.”
    And what had he given Henry in return, save for more heartache?
    For an instant, Lucas wished he had never returned from the country. He could be carousing with his friends and his fancy
     whores. Laughter and lust—not a care in the world. Instead, he felt a cold weight settling on his shoulders.
    Responsibility? Good God… Repressing a shiver, he downed the rest of his brandy. “Somehow I doubt that I was more fun than
     a roll in the hay.”
    “You had your moments,” replied Henry with a twinkle in his eye. “Besides, I get vicarious pleasure out of your exploits.”
    Lucas set aside his glass. “Well, as I said, I hope to have more material gratification for you in the near future. I’ve a
     meeting scheduled with Lady Sheffield on the morrow.”
    “What makes you think you can change her mind now?”
    “Because the lady is smart enough to realize that I may be the answer to her prayers.”
    Henry snorted in amusement. “Kisses will get you only so far. I fear that the widow will require a more convincing argument.”
    “We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Six
    C iara drew in a deep breath, trying to slow the skittering beat of her heart. Lud, she hadn’t felt this nervous since the night
     of her first ball.
    Back then, she