Revenge Wears Rubies by Renee Bernard Read Free Book Online Page B

Galen’s soul felt scorched by the desire she inspired in him.
    Perhaps if he had seen even a faint nod to the state of mourning she had abandoned—a simple black ribbon trim or a plainer gown in a muted color. But instead she’d adorned herself in a fiery silk that defied every weeping widow and mocked true sentiment. Every flounce and fold of expensive ruby material sang of her indifference, and Galen’s fingers had itched to tear her out of the offensive thing.
    You’ll be out of your clothes at my command, soon enough, Miss Moreland.
    The carriage rolled to a stop, and Galen alighted without waiting for the footmen to bother with the door. They moved aside without question, long used to the unconventional habits of their employer’s friends.
    He headed directly upstairs, briskly taking two risers at a time. Muted voices from a room above assured him that at least a few of the others had also sought out the oasis of West’s library. Reaching the ornate doors, Galen felt a familiar wash of comfort at the sight of his friends.
    “Hastings said you weren’t coming this evening,” Rowan said from his seat by the fireplace. “Some nonsense about attending a party at Bascombe’s,” he added with a wry grin.
    “At which point, I believe, the good Dr. West was kind enough to suggest that Josiah had lost his sanity.” Ashe straightened from his chair to extend a welcoming hand. “Come take my seat and help me win my wager.”
    Galen shook his head. “I’ll stand for a bit.” He crossed over to the long side table where a few refreshments were laid out. He reached for a decanter of lemon water, ritually ignoring the slight tremor of his hands. The hour was late and fatigue fueled the weakness in his extremities. “So what is this wager, Mr. Blackwell?”
    “That despite Rowan’s firm belief that you would rather be flayed alive than cross a gilt room in evening clothes with that social set, I had a strange feeling that it was just unexpected enough to be true.” Ashe resettled with an easy grace, stretching out his long legs in front of him. “You never do what’s expected, Galen.”
    “Then I’m a predictable bore!” Galen put the glass down before turning, unwilling to risk dropping it in front of the others. “But in this instance, it’s Josiah’s honor and apparently, his sanity I have to defend. I did attend Bascombe’s.”
    “Whatever for?” Ashe asked. “And don’t tell me for stimulating conversation! I’ve met Rand Bascombe.”
    “I had my reasons.” Galen was in no mood to share.
    “Careful, then,” Rowan said, his tone diplomatic and calm. “Bascombe and his cronies have strong ties to the East India Company. It may not be wise to draw too much attention just now.”
    “It’s too late for that.” Ashe broke off the lecture with a wave of his hand. “Come, let’s ask him how the mothers of the Ton reacted to his social debut.”
    “Oh, please!” Galen cracked a smile at last. “As usual, they have a tendency to pull their girls out of my path as quickly as they can, thank God!”
    “Poor Galen, the curse of a handsome second son!” Ashe sighed theatrically, one hand over his heart. “No fresh flowers falling at your feet, but if your peers knew how plump your accounts have grown, I don’t think you could take ten steps without some desperate mother shoving her daughter into your arms.”
    “They don’t know anything of me, Blackwell, that I don’t wish them to.” Galen’s irritation was compounded by the memory of Josiah’s cavalier enjoyment of their group’s notoriety. “And I couldn’t care less about some simpering debutantes wrangling for their next victim.”
    “Leave him be, Ashe. Hawke is right.” Rowan leaned forward, the amber in his eyes warming with the sincerity of his tone. “You can certainly attend any party you wish, old friend, without explaining yourself to the likes of us!”
    Ashe shrugged. “I’m just cross because I suspect I’ve