The Devilish Mr. Danvers: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series by Vivienne Lorret Read Free Book Online

me.”
    They had always been the best of friends, even before the tragic fire that had claimed Rathburn’s father and brought him into the bosom of the Danvers clan. Now, since Rathburn’s marriage to Rafe’s sister last spring, they were true brothers.
    “Drink,” Rafe said, pushing the glass into Rathburn’s hand. His own was unsteady, but he kept that fact hidden by staying in motion.
    Rafe’s little sister was upstairs, giving birth to her first child. When he’d heard her cry out an hour ago, the instinct to protect her from harm had had him mounting the stairs in tandem with Rathburn . . .
    Until the fierce Dowager Duchess of Heathcoat had stopped them both at the top. “Come one step closer,” she’d warned, “and I’ll throttle you both with my cane.”
    Rathburn had stood tall against his grandmother, but his voice was weak. “She needs me.”
    The dowager’s glower had softened and she’d laid a hand over Rathburn’s arm. “Emma is strong. Be brave for her.”
    Then, for good measure, the old dragon had ordered the head butler to lock them in the study.
    Now, here they were—Rathburn, Weatherstone, Rafe, and his father—trapped in the study together.
    Cuthbert Danvers crossed the room and clutched both Rafe and Rathburn by the shoulders. Above a vibrant paisley cravat, he offered a grin, an unlit pipe clenched between his teeth. “These things take time, boys. Why, I remember, that Celestine spent the better part of two days in her chamber for you, Rafe. Longest hours of my life. But worth it.” He patted Rafe’s cheek.
    “I destroyed six ledgers the day Penelope had our son,” Ethan Weatherstone said from behind them. Rising from the chair near the hearth, he smiled as if pleased by the memory. For a man who preferred order in his life above all things, this was a startling confession. “Nearly tore the door from the hinges to get to her”—he adjusted his cravat—“but I imagine that’s to be expected.”
    The image of Weatherstone turning into a man possessed caused Rafe to grin. Their acquaintance had begun in school when a bullying prefect had taunted Weatherstone about his perfectly numbered columns in his perfectly ordered ledgers. Both Rafe and Rathburn had come to Weatherstone’s defense, and ever since they’d remained close. Weatherstone had also stood by the Danverses during their disgrace. That loyalty meant the world to Rafe.
    “I tore a canvas to shreds with my bare hands, waiting for Emma to be born,” Cuthbert Danvers admitted, as if this were the perfect opportunity to confess to madness. Then he turned to Rathburn. “Oliver, your father took a sledgehammer to an old Crofter’s cottage and brought it to the ground the day you were born. He would have been so proud to stand here with you today.”
    Rathburn clutched his shoulder and nodded. “I—”
    The shrill sound of a baby’s cry interrupted him. Turning toward the door, he pushed the untouched glass of scotch back at Rafe, barely giving him the chance to grab it. Then, like a man possessed, he rammed his shoulder through the seam in the doors, splintering the wood where the lock once held.
    Rafe stared after his friend as he ran up the stairs.
    It took a moment to realize that his father was gripping Rafe by the arm, holding him back. “She’s Oliver’s responsibility now,” his father said quietly.
    Rafe knew that, of course. He’d known for quite some time that Rathburn was the best of men. Like Weatherstone, the entire Goswick family had stood beside the Danverses when they’d been cut off from society. Only the best man would have done for his sister.
    “You’ve always been our family’s steadfast shield,” his father quipped, ruffling his hair. “It would do my heart good to see you with a family of your own.”
    The words were like a vinegary dose of reality. He swallowed down the pungent brew, reminded of how close he’d once been. Until Ursa Sinclair, and her whole family, had played