Free The Rake's Redemption by Sherrill Bodine

Dreams of a stolen moment, his tender kiss. Dreams that assumed nightmare quality when he raised his head to look at her and she found that his wonderful face had changed into a hard, angry mask that chilled her. It was that coldness that always awakened her, for she’d find her bedclothes tossed aside as if in her restlessness she had pushed and kicked them away. Dominic Crawford, Marquis of Aubrey, why did he haunt her?
    Abruptly the parlor doors were flung open by Smithers, wearing his habitually sour expression.
    “The Marquis of Aubrey and Lord Freddie Liscombe!” he announced in a booming voice, which caused Sophia to jump, her eyelids flying open, and her hands fluttering to her white lace cap which was sadly askew.
    The object of Juliana’s thoughts stood seemingly relaxed, smiling with cool civility, framed like a Della Robbia angel within the wide rectangle of the parlor door. He looked magnificent. The cut of his deep blue morning coat displayed to perfection the breath of his splendid shoulders, and its color set off the uniquely rich gold of his hair.
    She gazed at him, feeling the tiniest bit giddy, much as she had on her eighteenth birthday when she had partaken of four glasses of champagne. She freely admitted that the lump on her head, sustained in the carriage accident, had had nothing to do with her state of mind at the inn; she was very strangely affected by this gentleman she barely knew, and who had proven by his unconventional behavior that he might not be worthy of her friendship. She found she was holding her breath in anticipation.
    His behavior was disappointingly conventional this morning. He greeted Sophia warmly, but only raised Juliana’s fingers toward his lips, managing to miss contact entirely. Dominic stepped back for Freddie to greet her in a like manner, except the pleasant smile that brightened his brown eyes was a great deal warmer than the marquis’s, and his lips pressed gently against her fingers.
    “How kind of you both to call. Please be seated.” Sophia said cordially, patting the low cream sofa upon which she was reclining, and motioning Freddie to the rose velvet bench beside Juliana.
    “How do you like London, Juliana?” Freddie asked eagerly, sitting forward on the bench at such an angle that she feared he would tumble over.
    She smiled easily, “London is splendid, Lord Liscombe. We are quite looking forward to the Season.”
    “It can be tedious, Juliana. Of course, all depends on your expectations,” Dominic drawled. “I hope it comes up to yours, ma’am.”
    Juliana glanced away from Freddie’s intent face to where Dominic sat on the sofa, one hand playing idly with his quizzing glass. The mouth she remembered as perfect, soft, and persuasive in the garden was curled into a hard derisive smile. All those tender memories tightened inside her, a small rose of perfection closing against the onslaught of night. Obviously he had taken a dislike of her, for how else could she explain this odd behavior? But she was not such a poor-spirited creature that she would allow him to see how much it disturbed her.
    Raising her chin, she looked at him with what she hoped was a withering glance, but immediately thought better of it. Instead she deliberately widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes, a simpering miss straight out of the schoolroom awed by the honor he did them by his morning call. “I am sure it will not be a disappointment, my lord,” she replied in what she knew was a languid tone. “It is all a shocking squeeze, of course, but it is delightful to have such new friends as Lord Liscombe and you, my lord marquis.” If Dominic was determined to be rude and boorish, she would show him that she could not be so easily overset. How foolish she was to have even a flicker of regard for him. He was nothing but a conceited flirt! The only explanation for his behavior was that he had found it amusing to dazzle them with his charm at the Blue Boar, thereby adding her