Read Online Lord of the Rakes by Darcie Wilde - Free Book Online

through the roses, crying out in pain and shock. He would have collided with Caroline had Philip not grasped her shoulders and pulled her back against him.
    “So sorry!” the man gasped, and tried to dart past them. This operation was hindered by the fact that he was also trying to pull up the breeches slipping down his jiggling, scraped thighs.
    “Brute! Cad!” Another form charged through the roses. This one was a short, curvaceous woman whose ball gown and chemise had bunched down around her waist, leaving her generous breasts bare to the night. The half-naked fury clutched a branch in both fists. She charged up to the polite but underdressed gentleman, leafy weapon raised and face contorted with anger. “Beast! Monster!”
    “No! Georgiana! Stop!” The gentleman would have run, but Philip caught hold of his arm and held him tight, without any apparent effort. A small crowd had gathered to see what was the cause of so much noise, and several of the gentlemen had come up beside Philip, ready to assist if needed.
    “Stop! I’ll stop
you,
you brute, you cad, you . . .” Either Miss Georgiana’s anger had robbed her of her vocabulary, or she was singularly lacking in imagination. She swung her branch down. Caroline, scarcely thinking about what she did, stepped forward, hand up, and caught the improvised cudgel before it made contact with the man’s head.
    “What is this? Has he hurt you?” Caroline tried very hard to keep her gaze focused on the other woman’s face.
    “Hurt me!” Miss Georgiana struggled to pull her branch out of Caroline’s grip, which made her bared bosom ripple dramatically. This, Caroline thought with surprising detachment, helped account for the number of men in the crowd gathering around them. “He did worse!”
    “No . . .” Humor and detachment both bled away, and Caroline saw the man squirm as Philip’s grip tightened about the man’s arm.
    “He told me he stands to inherit twenty thousand pounds!” Georgiana pointed a shaking finger at the gentleman. “Now I find he’s in debt to every moneylender in the city and he wants me to take him for five hundred a year!
Five hundred!
”
    “My love.” The unfortunate gentleman held out one hand in a pleading gesture. Philip, evidently taking pity on Miss Georgiana’s erstwhile paramour, let him go. “I thought . . .”
    “You thought with that puny thing between your legs!” Georgiana finally yanked her branch out of Caroline’s grip and aimed a swipe toward the offending portion of his anatomy, which made him jump back and, unfortunately, try to shield his privates with both hands, which left his breeches without means of support, so they slid back down to his knees. “You thought I’d just . . . with a . . . Cad, brute, shopkeeper!”
    Georgiana charged past Caroline, swinging her branch like a broadsword. The man yelped, grabbed up his breeches, and ran. In retreat, he displayed an impressive degree of speed as well as an expanse of buttocks and bandy legs. Screaming her limited range of imprecations, Miss Georgiana took off behind him, causing Caroline to jump backward, and fetch up against the very solid form of Mr. Montcalm.
    Someone in the crowd laughed. Someone else began to clap. Soon mirth and applause erupted generally. But not from Mr. Montcalm. Mr. Montcalm stayed as he was, quiet and still with his fingers closed around Caroline’s shoulders. Her skin tingled where his gloved hands curved over her bare skin. Caroline’s throat tightened. Her heart began to stutter against her ribs. That glowing delightful warmth Philip’s gaze had sparked rose within her once again. She imagined leaning against him, perhaps complaining of feeling faint so he would have to wrap his arms around her for support and comfort.
    As tempting as it might be, there was still a crowd about them, and she had no desire to create further spectacle. Not that anyone was paying attention to her or Philip. They were busy