Free Rake's Guide to Pleasure. by Victoria Dahl Page A

Street if you need me this evening."
    "Right. Best get to work then, sir." The boy was walking away, one coin caught tight between his teeth, before Hart could say a word.
    * * *
    The pungent fragrance of incense hung over Matthew Bromley's head, then it wound around him, offering a strange, exciting mix of comfort and guilt. He bowed his head and prayed along with the rest of the small congregation, but long after they'd all risen and filed out, he stayed.
    God would bring her back to him. If he prayed hard enough, sacrificed enough, she would be returned. He did not want her for selfish reasons, after all. The woman had led him astray, and Matthew meant to see both their souls saved from eternal damnation. Marriage, piety, grace; what more noble wish for a man?
    There is a stain on your soul, Reverend Whittier had said, and Matthew had wept to hear the truth spoken aloud. He wanted to be clean again, clean of the lust and fornication she'd wrapped him in. He hadn't realized the danger at the time, had been blind to her deception. He'd thought it all to do with love, and hadn't once thought of the devil. Not until he'd confessed to Reverend Whittier and seen her for what she truly was.
    Even with her gone it wasn't better. Every night she came to him in shameful dreams. Every night she coaxed his body to lust. He woke each morning with the proof of his sin like a brand on his flesh.
    He could not simply forget her. In order to save himself, he had to save her. She would be his wife or they were both doomed. As soon as they married he would be redeemed, and he could begin his work for the Lord. He would start with her jezebel soul and temptress body.
    "God will lead me to her. Soon," he murmured as he rose from his aching knees. "And I will save her from herself."
    Emma arrived at Moulter's estate at six o'clock and was dressed and ready for the party by eight. By nine she was glowing from the effects of good cards and even better champagne. Everyone around her was beginning to glow, actually, though she doubted they were drinking for the same reasons she was. Probably not one of them was attempting to drown their anxiety over Somerhart's coming seduction.
    Her stomach fluttered again, and Emma took another sip. Not too much more though. She'd had trouble stifling a groan at the sight of her first bad hand.
    He hadn't put in an appearance, might not even be here yet, but she knew where his room was because the maid had mentioned it quite casually as she'd unpacked Emma's clothes. Somerhart's door was directly across from Emma's, a careful arrangement undoubtedly arranged by an attentive and helpful host. A duke's mistress must be accommodated, after all.
    She had no idea how she would avoid the man if he was sleeping only a few feet away from her.
    Emma shook her head and placed a few coins in the pile. His presence wasn't the true problem; her own temptation was the danger. The knowledge that he was near would be far more vexing than his physical proximity.
    A murmur of surprise took the whole table when Emma laid down her hand. They hadn't expected her to win, and she couldn't blame them. Her worry over Somerhart had translated as displeasure with her cards. But she couldn't rely on that kind of luck for long. She needed to concentrate. The duke was a distraction she could not afford.
    Emma cleared her mind and raised her stake in the game, which was all the incentive fate needed to intervene. The next three hands went to a young lord she'd never met before, and nearly flattened her pile of coins. But Emma persevered. By the time she looked up an hour later, she was flush with coin again, and not thinking about the Duke of Somerhart .
    Which was, of course, when he chose to invade her world. Her little jump of surprise at seeing him standing at the table made the other players laugh. Knowing, indulgent smiles were exchanged among the men. Even the great duke arched an eyebrow in amusement.
    "Lady Denmore ," he said, with a