A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

Cam snorted disbelief. Richard cursed old friends who didn’t fall for his pose of good-natured vacancy. “I must meet this Genevieve Barrett. To think a prim bluestocking has you on your knees. I never thought to see the day.”

Richard shivered. It was deuced chilly weather to sit around in his shirt with sopping hair. “You and your wild imagination. I’m making sure I do this properly.”

“Do what? Steal the jewel or the girl’s virtue?”

His lips tightened with an impatience that would have astonished those who believed that Richard Harmsworth reserved his deepest reactions for his tailoring. “I can’t bloody well steal it. How can I taunt the ton with the deuced bauble if I do? The situation is more complex than I thought.”

He hoped Cam didn’t notice that he failed to comment on any plans for Genevieve’s virtue. Playing the gentleman became more onerous every day. Especially since he’d kissed her.

“So how much longer?” The duke frowned with the displeasure that invariably sent minions scurrying. ?

?Surely you tire of rural amusements.”

Richard merely arched his eyebrows. If Cam knew the delights of Genevieve’s kisses, he wouldn’t mock the rustic life. “I’m making progress.”

Cam threw his hands up in disgust. “Not from what I see.”

The urge arose to confide in Cam about Genevieve’s work for her father. But his friend would only nag him to use the information to obtain the jewel. Richard wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken advantage of the only secret he’d uncovered—unless he counted her propensity for swimming naked. Perhaps the unspoken threat in Fairbrother’s manner toward her stopped him. Galling at his age to discover that a knight in shining armor skulked under his nonchalant demeanor.

“I’m taking the subtle approach.”

“Well, that’s novel.”

He might fend off Cam’s jibes, but the time he devoted to brooding upon Genevieve was disturbing. Not to mention these unfamiliar protective instincts. Inconvenient protective instincts. After all, he meant to soften her up until she surrendered the jewel, not keep her from harm all her days.

He had a sinking premonition that those protective instincts might stymie his wicked schemes. Hell, they already had. After she’d run upstairs crying, his pursuit had relented.

The memory of that night reminded him that he wasn’t merely here for a scolding and somewhere private to dye his hair. “What do you know about Neville Fairbrother?”

“Leath’s uncle?” Cam’s dark brows contracted. “He doesn’t appear in society. He has a property a few miles away. Youngton Hall. By all reports it’s stuffed to the gills with treasures. I went up against him for that Titian in Rothermere House’s library. He didn’t take losing in good spirit.”

“That’s in character.”

“I imagine he’s plump in the pocket. All the Fairbrothers are.”

“Have you heard anything to the fellow’s detriment?”

Cam shrugged. “Haven’t heard much at all.”

“Can you find out?”

Cam’s mouth flattened with reluctant humor. “I have got a life separate from your madcap stratagems, my friend.”

“A word here, a word there. Not asking you to lay down your life, old man.”

“Why?”

“Why aren’t I asking you to lay down your life?”

Cam’s eyes narrowed. “No. Why this sudden interest in the middle-aged second son of a marquess?”

“The bugger is after Genevieve.” Even more unforgivably, he’d made her cry. For that, he deserved to have his kidneys poached.

Cam laughed. “Priceless. Not only is the bluestocking holding out, she has another suitor. Dear God, man, you’ll end this escapade with your tail between your legs.”

Richard had a bleak feeling that Cam’s raillery was justified. He swam in deep water and right now, he was drowning. “The vicar told me that Fairbrother proposed three nights ago and Genevieve refused him.”

“Did she indeed?” Calculation replaced Cam’s amusement. “A penniless vicar’s daughter is a comedown for a Fairbrother, even a second son. They’re notoriously high in the instep.”