How To Build The Perfect Rake (10 page)

‘Well you’re coming out tonight, anyway.
Remember, there’s that fete of Prinny’s in Kensington Gardens. You
can’t possibly miss that. Fireworks and everything, or so it is
rumored. It should be spectacular.’

She knew what he was
talking of, naturally. People had been discussing it for weeks. A
great deal could be said about the Prince Regent – and often was –
but he did know how to put on the most amazing parties so
anticipation had been building, especially as one could not see the
preparations. The area of Kensington Park where the festivities
were to take place had been closed to the public for quite some
time. No doubt most of the
ton
would be attending for no expense had been
spared. Rumors abounded as to what would be on offer that
evening.

‘I don’t know if I’m in the mood.’

‘Of course you must go. Imagine what your
mother would say if she heard that you had missed such a spectacle.
She would be devastated not to receive a first hand account of the
affair.’

Olympia sighed. That was the worst of having
a friend about who had known you since childhood. They knew your
family as well. Besides, Aunt Flora was practically salivating,
entranced by the prospect of seeing the Prince of Wales latest
excess. ‘Then yes, I suppose I will be going.’

Luc tilted his head, regarding her
quizzically. ‘I depend on you to keep me company and gawp at
things. We’re country bumpkins, remember. Both of us will be agog
at the spectacle. I’m serious Ollie… promise me you’ll be
there.’

‘Have I not said I shall be? Aunt Flora has
a new dress for the occasion.’

‘That’s not exactly a promise, now is it?
Come along. I wish to have an unambiguous assurance from you.
Experience has taught me how slippery you can be.’

‘Slippery! When have I ever been slippery,
pray tell?’

‘When you duped me out of the entire
contents of my coin purse in a marathon game of whist. When we were
playing Blind Man’s Bluff and somehow you directed me to embrace
Mr. Fitzhugh, as opposed to his very attractive sister, much to our
mutual horror, I might add. When you stole my Uncle William’s
stuffed stag’s head and somehow inserted into my sister Emily’s
bed, causing her to have hysterics.’

Olympia paused, remembering these instances
with pursed lips. She could still remember the look of horror on
both Luc and Henry Fitzhugh’s faces when Luc had inadvertently
‘captured’ him. It had been rather mean of Olympia to lead Luc
astray, after they had hatched a plan together for him to pounce on
the very pretty Miss Fitzhugh but sometimes temptation was simply
too irresistible. Luc forgave her. He usually did. ‘Your sister
Emily is dreadfully stuffy. She is forever preaching to me when she
sees me.’

‘She wishes to give you direction. She
thinks your brothers lead you astray.’

‘I daresay they do but it’s nothing to do
with her. You were far more helpful than she ever was.’

He grinned. ‘Your promise?’

She gave an exasperated
sigh. That was
another
problem with friendships of long standing. You could not
bamboozle each other with vague assurances. ‘What a pest you are,
especially when I’ve already said I am going. But I promise.
Satisfied?’

‘I am indeed. I shall see you tonight.’ He
rose to his feet.

‘Luc?’

He paused, looking down at her. ‘Yes?’

‘When are you going to propose to
Carisse?’

He hesitated for a moment. ‘I’m not sure.
Soon, I suppose. If I’m going to pip Branson at the post.’

‘Very well then.’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I was merely curious. This has been what
your education as a rake has been about, after all.’

‘Very true.’ He seemed to hesitate a moment
longer, apparently on the point of saying something but after a
moment he shook his head, clearly changing his mind. ‘I’ll see you
tonight.’

After he had gone, Olympia stared ahead of
her moodily, completely out of sorts. It was possible that Carisse
would refuse his offer. After all, she had the unlovely duke after
her and what girl did not want to be a duchess? But in her heart of
hearts Olympia knew that the wretched girl would say yes for
really, Luc was by far the better looking man and his pots of money
would certainly compensate for a lack of a title. Or so she
supposed. It was hard to know what went through the minds of
Carisse and her mother. Despite the fact that she had come to know
them better, they still seemed to be very peculiar people.

She was still sitting there, lost in doleful
thought and looking at nothing in particular when the door opened
again and Aunt Flora’s butler, Hobson step through the door.

Olympia almost groaned out loud, cursing
herself for not telling Hobson that she was not at home to any more
visitors. She simply was not in the mood for social chitchat.
Fortunately, the butler bore only good news.

‘Mr. Grayson, miss.’

Mr
. Grayson? But
which
Mr. Grayson? When a tall young man, extremely
well proportioned and exceedingly handsome, walked through the
door, Olympia paused, hands on the arms of her chair. She eyed him
for a moment then launched herself forward with a whoop of
delight.

‘Jasper!’

He grinned, swooping her up in the air as if
she were still five years old and he all of eight. ‘Ollie, you
little minx! You can always tell us apart.’

‘Of course I can,’ she said, rather
breathlessly as he deposited her on the carpet once more. ‘You and
Thad aren’t that alike.’

‘There are those who’d disagree.’ He glanced
around the room. ‘Are you entertaining yourself?’

‘I am, although I can’t say I’m doing a very
good job of it for my own company is tedious. Aunt Flora is lying
down. The heat does not agree with her. But only tell me, what are
you doing here?’

‘Come to check up on you. Mama said one of
us had to come. She said your last letter sounded wistful and she
was worried. You know what an aversion she has to London. She’s
convinced that you’re suffering. Thad and I tossed for it and I
won.’

‘You could have both come.’

‘One of us had to stay and help Father as
old Fletcher is laid up.’ Fletcher was the estate steward who had
been with the Grayson’s forever. Despite the fact that her family
were exceedingly prosperous, the Grayson’s ran a very large farm
estate and both her father and, upon occasions, her brothers liked
to muck in and do things. The home farm would one day come to the
oldest son Gilford but such was the size of the Grayson holdings
that each of the boys would have a sizeable parcel of land come to
them one day and all four knew something of farming.

‘Poor Fletcher. Is he all right?’

‘Pneumonia. He’ll be all
right if he rests up but the old devil never stays a’bed. Father
will make him mind the doctor but he wanted a hand with the place
and Thad got the job,’ he chuckled, ‘and
I
got to come up to London. It’s a
hard life for I must suffer in your service, it seems.’

‘Idiot! But only tell me, how is everybody?’
Olympia demanded, leading her brother over to a sofa and pushing
him down unceremoniously. ‘Oh Jas, I’ve been so homesick. Tell me
everything!’

So Jasper did, filling his sister in on the
local gossip at Pennimore, their family home. The Graysons were a
close-knit family and all five siblings were exceedingly fond of
each other, even though Gilford, the eldest, was ten years older
than his sister.

‘I do have some news actually,’ Jasper said,
lowering his voice. ‘Mama said I wasn’t to tell you yet but I knew
you’d want to know.’

‘What is it?’

‘Ellyn is breeding.’

Olympia clapped her hands together in
delight. She was very fond of her sister-in-law. ‘But why didn’t
Mama want me to know?’

‘Something about waiting for a time until
the first few months had passed in case she loses it. But Ellyn is
as healthy as they come. She won’t have any trouble dropping a
foal.’

‘What a hideous creature you are. Ellyn is
not a horse.’

‘As good as. Country bred girls are a stolid
bunch.’

‘Just like we all are, I suppose,’ she
observed dryly. ‘Doing it a little too brown, dear brother. You
were all educated at Oxford. You might like to muck out the stables
every once in a while, my lad, but don’t give me any nonsense about
you being a farmer. The only time you’re likely to have anything to
do with earthy matters is when one of your precious horses dumps
you in a ditch!’

He laughed. ‘It’s a fair call. But now that
I’ve given you my news, how about yours? Why does our mother think
that you’ve got a case of the blue devils?’

So Olympia told him all about Luc and
Carisse and his training as a rake to win the fair maiden’s hand.
Jasper was startled to hear that Lucien St James, a man he thought
he knew fairly well, was involved in anything so bizarre.

‘Are you saying that it worked? St James has
become a rake?’

‘No of course not. Not a proper one. I
believe that takes years of practice and any amount of dedication.
No, he’s only pretending to be a rake.’

‘And this ridiculous sham is actually
working for him?’ Understandably, Jasper sounded incredulous.

‘It seems to be. You only think it’s
ridiculous because you know him so well. But trust me, he is the
man of the moment. Women are practically falling at his feet.’

Jasper looked dubious, but he shrugged.
‘Well that’s a good thing, then. Daft, to be sure but a good thing.
He can marry this Celia -’

‘Carisse.’

‘This Carisse and the job is done.’

‘Yes, but she’s rather ghastly. Shallow and
vapid and… and entirely wrong for him!’

Jasper looked at his sister curiously. ‘And
does that matter? Many a man marries the wrong kind of female and
lives to regret it. It is an unfortunate part of life.’

‘Yes, But Luc is my friend
and I don’t want him to regret something so enormous. I mean,
it’s
marriage
Jas. It’s not one of those things one can take back to the
tailor and ask them to alter it to fit, now is it? Lucien is my
best friend and his happiness is at stake.’

‘So you don’t
want
him to marry this
female? Well why did you encourage him to do so in the first
place?’

It was a fair question.
Olympia thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I
suppose I didn’t think he would have a hope of succeeding, which
only goes to show how much I underestimated him. And I
don’t
want him to marry
Carisse. I think, in the end, he will be very unhappy. One does not
want a friend to be unhappy. There are so many delightful girls in
London. I am sure any number of them would suit him so much better,
if only we could make him look in their direction.’

Jasper rubbed a hand over his dark hair and
looked thoughtful. ‘I can probably do something about that.’

Olympia looked at him, a glimmer of hope in
her dark brown eyes. In looks, all of the Graysons were similar,
with the same dark eyes and hair but it was the pale skin that went
with it that made them so striking. It was an unusual combination
and it was generally agreed by all that they were a very attractive
family. ‘What could you do?’ He looked at her, expression
mischievous. ‘Oh now! You don’t even know if she will like
you.’

‘Of course she will.’

‘Dear
me
, Mr. Grayson,’ Olympia sniffed,
‘I wonder what Mama would say if she could hear her son sounding so
very vain?’

He chuckled. ‘Well… perhaps she won’t but
it’ll be fun to try, don’t you think? When can I see this
paragon?’

‘Tonight. There is to be a night fete in
Kensington Gardens put on by the Prince Regent and all the world is
going.’

‘Then we shall go as well.’

‘Oh dear,’ Olympia said,
suddenly concerned. ‘What if
you
fall for the Houghton? She really is frightfully
lovely. Men just seem to melt before her.’

Jasper eyed his sister with a certain amount
of pity. ‘Dearest Ollie, you need have no fear. I have dealt with
pretty before.’

‘Yes, but have you dealt
with divine? Much as I don’t particularly care for Carisse, she
really is astonishingly beautiful. Perhaps even
you
will fall for her
charms.’

‘Nonsense. Courage is required. When our
actions do not, our fears make us traitors.’ His sister looked at
him in disbelief and he shrugged. ‘I had a lot of time on my hands
when I broke my ankle last summer.’

‘And Papa give you Shakespeare to pass the
time? How delightful amusing. Anyway, we shall see just how heroic
you are tonight. You seem awfully confident that you can interest
the girl but let me tell you, nobody interests her more than
herself.’

‘A challenge,’ Jasper said and pinched his
sister’s cheek, ‘don’t you worry about a thing. If you don’t want
St James to marry this paragon then I’ll make sure it doesn’t
happen. Just leave everything to me.’

The night fete, as it had been called, was
in full swing by the time Luc arrived at Kensington Garden’s that
evening. Everybody who was in walking distance had come by foot as
there were far too few places for the carriages to come to rest. A
stillness hung in the air as the warmth of the day had not
dissipated entirely and it was breathlessly sultry evening. It was
not a masquerade ball, which was surprising, as the Prince of Wales
did so love them. It gave him the opportunity to dress up in all
manner of elaborate costumes but Luc was relieved not to have
something over his face. It was not the weather for clinging masks
and dominos.