Free The Passionate Love of a Rake by Jane Lark Page B

of all was to fight back against the Suttons. The last Duke had stolen half her life. She would not give the other half to his son. She would suffer anything to ensure Joshua did not win. That was the one decision she could make. It was the only control she had. She would not run, and nor would she let him win, which meant she must also keep coming face-to-face with Robert.
    ~
    Looking in the mirror, Robert admired the cravat his valet, Archer, had deftly tied, and smiled, a mocking twist on his lips. His fingers swept back his fringe. He was a handsome devil. The knowledge boosted his confidence.
    Women adored him. Well, every bloody woman except the one he’d wished to keep. His smile turned to a sneer for his reflection.
    What did his looks count for? In this respect, not a thing.
    He slipped his arms into the black evening coat Archer held up.
    Edward, Robert’s younger brother, would call Robert vain to the point of arrogant. Robert preferred to think of his appreciation of his looks as a desire for perfection. To which Edward would say, “more like perversity”.
    A self-deprecating laugh escaped Robert’s throat as Archer slid Robert’s coat onto his shoulders.
    Robert slipped each button into place himself, while Archer swept a fleck of dust from the shoulder.
    “You are in good humor tonight, my Lord.”
    Robert smiled again. Archer had been with him through his adolescent and maturing years abroad. The man was a saint, and sinner too, and a godsend. Archer could be counted on for anything. The man was Robert’s right arm, his co-conspirator, and, at times, his saviour.
    “I am, Archer,” he answered, giving the man a wicked grin and patting his shoulder.
    He knew what Archer was asking. Would there be a lady returning on his arm tonight? Somehow, Robert doubted it, not unless Jane could be persuaded, but, after last night, he thought it unlikely.
    “I believe I am a-wooing, Archer. With a lonely night ahead.”
    The valet nodded, and the look in his eye told Robert, Archer had his own wooing to do.
    “You may have the night off. I’ll not need you again.” If Robert’s luck did come in by some remote chance, he could manage alone. Jane was clearly not a woman who appreciated frills and fuss. He suddenly remembered her excitement over bluebells in the woods at Farnborough when they’d been young. She’d been easily pleased then.
    A smile still playing on his lips, Robert left the room.
    He felt a sense of purpose he’d not known in ages, and blood pumped into his veins.
    Yes, this was what he enjoyed, the invigorating pleasure of the chase.

Chapter Five
    Robert strode into the Coleford’s soirée with a feeling of expectation and scanned the people gathered in the drawing room.
    He was pleased with himself. After a quick trip to White’s, he’d discovered Violet’s whereabouts, and if Lady Rimes was here, then Jane would be, too.
    Standing taller than many of those around him, Robert had the perfect vantage point from which to spot his black-clad quarry, but one swift glance revealed nothing.
    “Lord Barrington!” Robert turned and faced a slender blonde, a former conquest, Lady Shaw. She wrapped her fingers about his arm as if claiming him.
    Robert unwound them about to give her a polite set down, but the Earl of Coleford chose the same moment to welcome his late arrival.
    It was a timely rescue, and Lady Shaw withdrew.
    “Barrington, I did not expect you, but you are welcome.”
    Coleford had been a friend of Robert’s father, and the man had a daughter to marry off, so any bachelor within a thousand-mile radius was welcome. Even Robert’s rakish ways were no deterrence when weighed in balance to his title and wealth.
    “Lord Coleford.” He shook the man’s hand and offered a slight bow. “I was unexpectedly available and heard my friend Lord Sparks was attending. I hope you will forgive my intrusion.”
    “Forgive it.” The man laughed. “You forget how close your father and I