Free A Good Rake is Hard to Find by Manda Collins Page B

father asked, biting into a piece of toast. “Perhaps you should have Mrs. Thompson mix you up one of her tisanes. They always seemed to help your mama.”
    Leonora cursed inwardly at her inability to hide her sleep deprivation. She’d been up most of the night reading her brother’s journal. And unfortunately, its contents, while fascinating, had not contained the revelation about the reason for his death that she’d hoped to discover. Though there had been something she wished to show to Freddy as soon as she could.
    â€œI’ll do that, Papa,” she said aloud, accepting the cup of tea the footman had just poured for her. “Though perhaps I will wait and see if I can sleep without it tonight. After the gathering at Sir Gerard Fincher’s home this evening, I have little doubt I’ll be exhausted.”
    Her father’s salt-and-pepper brows drew together, and he set down the newspaper he’d been perusing. “Sir Gerard Fincher?” he asked, his displeasure evident. “You’re going to a social evening at that blackguard’s home? Why is this the first I’ve heard of it?”
    â€œIt’s not as if I’ve been in the habit of telling you about my every social engagement, Papa,” Leonora said with a frown of her own. “You’d find that just as tedious as I would.”
    She’d always exercised more autonomy than most unmarried young ladies she knew, but Leonora thought that had been because she’d displayed more maturity than most young ladies of her acquaintance. That and the fact that her aunt Hortense, who most often acted as her companion, was of the opinion that ladies should be afforded more and not less freedom where decisions about their social activities were concerned. Without her aunt’s influence, Leonora doubted very much that she’d have embarked on her career as a poet. She’d certainly never have started her weekly salons.
    â€œThat is true,” her father responded, still looking peeved, “but I had thought that you would have more sense than to visit the de facto home of the driving club I hold responsible for your brother’s death. Sir Gerard Fincher might not have been driving the carriage that killed your brother, Leonora, but it was his club’s recklessness, and the sense of competition it fostered, that was responsible for Jonathan’s death. Just as surely as if Sir Gerard had shot him with a pistol.”
    Though she’d considered her father’s disapproval when embarking upon her faux betrothal with Freddy, Leonora had not considered that Mr. Craven would have anything to say about her moving in the same circles as Sir Gerard. She’d been shortsighted she knew now. And would need to tell him at least a partial truth in order to stop him from forbidding her to attend that evening’s party at Sir Gerard’s home.
    â€œI quite agree, Papa,” she said with candor. “I believe that the Lords of Anarchy are responsible for Jonny’s death, too. Which is why I simply must attend this party at Sir Gerard’s house tonight.”
    Her mind racing as she considered her story, she went on, “Jonny was my twin. And we were closer than most siblings. I simply must understand what it was that led him to join that infernal club. It’s the one piece of the puzzle that I don’t understand. Because I know Jonny was not easily led. There must have been some reason for him to become involved with those men. And I shan’t be able to rest until I know what that reason was.”
    Mr. Craven’s look of disapproval turned to one of surprise. “Is that what is keeping you awake at night, my dear? I must confess, it hadn’t occurred to me that you would wish to speak to Sir Gerard, else I’d have had the fellow brought round immediately. Much as it would pain me to do so.”
    â€œBut that’s just it, Papa,” Leonora went on.