Free The Rake's Mistress by Nicola Cornick Page A

was receding a little now, a whisper of agony along her nerves. Eventually the faintness caused by the pain receded sufficiently for her to stumble across to the sofa and sit down.
    She sat there for a very long time.
    It had happened before, and she had dismissed it as an unlucky vibration from the hammer. Now, however, she knew she could not deceive herself any longer. She had seen it happen to other engravers, seen them work until the pain shadowed their every movement and they were obliged to give up their livelihood. The doctors shook their heads and said that nothing could be done and charged a guinea for the privilege of breaking the bad news.
    Rebecca had worked at her craft since she was fourteen years old, and now, a decade on, the pain had come to take her too.
    She looked around the dim workshop, at the light glancing off the crystal on the shelves and the tools of her trade lying discarded on the bench. She loved her work so much that she could never bear to let it go. The loneliness welled up more powerfully than before. She went across to the shelf and lightly touched the glass with the engraved anchor, as though it was a talisman. Beneath the elegant chase work was a motto. Celer et Audax —Swift and bold.
    Rebecca wrapped both arms about her, as though to keep out the cold. If only Daniel was here. But Daniel had his own way to make. They had a made a pact when they were children and found they were to be apart. If ever the one needed the other, they had only to send a token…
    For a moment, Rebecca was tempted. Then she sighed and moved back to the workbench. She would need to be in a great deal worse situation than this before she contacted her brother and drew him into danger.
    She blew out the candles and made her way up to bed.
    Early the next morning, on the basis that the longer she put it off the worse it would be, Rebecca picked up her engraving scribe and set to work. She was tentative at first, but when no pain troubled her, she soon fell into a rhythm again as she chipped delicately at the fragile glass. The work was absorbing and when a shadow fell across her workbench she realised that she had not even heard the knock at the workshop door. She looked up to see Lucas Kestrel there and her heart skipped a tiny beat. The strong morning sunlight from the window made his hair gleam conker brown rather than auburn.
    ‘Miss Raleigh. How are you?’ He smiled at her and Rebecca’s heart did another quick flip.
    ‘I am very well, thank you, my lord. How are you?’
    ‘I am tired, I thank you,’ Lucas said. He looked straight at her. ‘I do not appreciate sleepless nights.’
    Rebecca blushed. ‘I suppose that you have something preying on your mind?’
    ‘You suppose correctly, Miss Raleigh.’
    Rebecca bent her head over the glass and polished the surface with unnecessary vigour. Her hand was not quite steady. She tried to calm her singing nerves.
    ‘I did not expect you to call again so soon, my lord,’ she said. ‘I fear that your commission is barely begun. We did agree a week and it is only five days.’
    ‘I know it.’ Lucas drove his hands into the pockets of his great coat. ‘I did not wish to wait that long to see you again, Miss Raleigh, and as I may not meet you socially, this seemed the only way.’
    Rebecca picked up the scribe and the hammer again. ‘You are, of course, quite welcome to look around my studio, my lord. If you choose to spend more money here, then I shall not attempt to stop you, but not all the items are for sale.’
    Lucas laughed. ‘My dear Miss Raleigh, I believe we have established that already.’
    Rebecca relaxed slightly. ‘Very well, then…’
    Lucas glanced towards the fireplace. ‘You do not have a fire today?’
    ‘I had not got around to building one,’ Rebecca said evasively. She did not wish to tell him that she had run out of firewood and that her accountshad shown her it was something she could not afford to buy.
    ‘If you show me where