Free The Art of Ruining a Rake by Emma Locke Page A

planted a kiss on his cheek.
    “Who is this?” he asked, setting Delilah down. “Your sister, at last?”
    Lucy stood and curtseyed. “It’s lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”
    “Is this the first time? I remember you well enough. A comely little thing with big brown eyes, come to watch the men work. We all knew who you were.”
    Lucy hadn’t expected such bluntness. Every last word was true, though, and she smiled at the reminder of their girlish antics. “Delilah always insisted we take the long way into the village. She said she preferred the view.”
    He laughed heartily. He was dark and brawny, with an unruly head of curly hair and the hint of stubble along his jaw. Delilah thought he’d hung the moon. With forearms as thick as his were, Lucy could see why her sister thought so. But he was no gentleman. Though Lucy would never admit as much to her sister, she didn’t even find him particularly handsome.
    “That sounds like my wife,” he said. “Welcome to our home.”
    Lucy tried to concentrate on the good-natured man before her rather than the blond-haired rogue in her past. “Thank you, sir. I’m charmed. I had no idea you and my sister are so…occupied.” She felt a blush creep across her face. It was hard to look Mr. Conley in the eye when the passion he felt for her sister sat so unmistakably on Delilah’s belly.
    He squeezed Delilah’s side and let out a guffaw. “I told your brother ’tis a chore with all these women, but in truth, I don’t mind. What’s one more girl when the house is already full to the brim with females? Now, I saw your trunks being unloaded. ‘A sight more than a week’s worth,’ I thought to myself. You’re welcome to stay with us, if you’ve got it in your head you want to be a Conley.”
    Lucy was humbled. He so clearly hadn’t room for another ward. “How kind you are, sir. But I must be on my way. A week’s visit is all I had in mind. Perhaps no more than a few days, actually.” It was increasingly obvious the family couldn’t easily support her stay longer than that.
    Mr. Conley looked at Lucy keenly, but, thankfully, didn’t push.
    Her sister’s brow wrinkled. “I’d hoped you’d visit with us at least through Twelfth Night. It will be so much more intimate here than in Trestin’s mausoleum.”
    Lucy bit her lip. “Perhaps once I’ve told you my tale, you’ll agree I cannot impose.”
    Delilah’s eyes widened with interest. “Oh?”
    Lucy forced a smile to her now-trembling lips. She pressed them together, fighting the trepidation rising in her breast. “After dinner?”
    Mr. Conley waved Lucy to retake her seat. “Once Mama comes down, we’ll have no peace. It must be now.”
    He took the armchair. Delilah loyally seated herself beside Lucy on the couch. “Does this concern the astounding number of trunks brought in from your carriage?” she whispered.
    Lucy hung her head. “I shouldn’t have come at all, but…you’re my sister!”
    Delilah gave her a brief hug. “A fact I’ve never regretted.”
    The parlor door clicked shut. Lucy wasted no time; she could say her piece no better way than quickly and brutally. “I’m in disgrace, sir. I was caught inflagrante delicto whilst at my school.”
    Mr. Conley braced his hands on his knees and straightened with alarm. “Is that so?”
    Delilah grabbed Lucy’s hand. Tears immediately sprang into her eyes. “Not Lord Montborne!”
    Lucy squeezed her hand. Her peace was tenuous enough without Delilah’s overwrought emotion. “Please, don’t pity me. I can’t endure it.”
    Delilah reached for the kerchief Mr. Conley held out for her and dabbed at her eyes. “It’s the baby . I can’t help myself.”
    Lucy couldn’t bear her sister’s sympathy, intended or otherwise. She looked away and forced herself to concentrate on the relevant points of her story. “I declined to marry him, as any intelligent woman would do. You do remember Papa…” Lucy’s voice broke despite