The Rake's Handbook by Sally Orr Read Free Book Online Page B

the lake, so she wasn’t surprised. Henry promised to pay a call again within the week and make inquiries about the foundry.
    She moved aside the Trafalgar memorial inkwell—replete with weeping lion—and pulled the largest medical book forward. After deciding to start with “cuts,” she began to read the entry when Berdy came into the room.
    He must have been experimenting with cravat knots, because he silently struck a dramatic pose on the Axminster carpet’s center medallion of roses. Thus staged, he lifted his chin for her approval, but his smile faded without her immediate praise.
    â€œPlease, love. A young man in your situation cannot support himself as a London dandy. If you married, how would you provide for your family?”
    He waved a hand in the air. “Not now. I’ve plenty of time to choose a profession. I thought you’d be excited to see m’ new knot.” He turned to give her a side view. “I call it The Circumbendibus .”
    â€œWhy do they name cravat knots? It’s not as though they are pets.”
    â€œElli. This is important. When we go to London for the Season and I’m seen wearing The Circumbendibus , I’m convinced this knot will be even more popular than the The Bungup . Then all of London will acknowledge me as a gentleman of elegance and style.”
    Glancing at the wide-eyed expression beaming from his smiling face, she cherished that eager look. It first appeared when Berdy was nine, seconds before he ran toward a dangerous horse, his arms open wide, repeating the words “horsey hug.” The first of many panicked moments she experienced in the role of his mother. Now, almost nine years later, she worried she would never fulfill her late sister’s last wish to guide him from adolescence into a mature, responsible man. “With that enormous bow, can you look down?” She doubted he could move anything above the cravat.
    He huffed and attempted to lower his chin. He couldn’t place it on his chest—the giant neckcloth blocked his forward movement—so he tilted his head to the side. “Of course, I can look down. You are…are you pressing flowers?”
    â€œNo…books are used for reading.” She closed the lexicon and gave him her full attention.
    â€œVery amusing. You know at school I’m considered a great scholar.”
    She examined his figure from his head to his Hessians. Today he did not dress like a scholar. He wore ivory pantaloons below an apple-green waistcoat. His curly blond locks were brushed forward in a disheveled appearance called à la Titus . “Scholarship is more than knowing which tailor produces the best waistcoats, and which draper sells the finest silk. Scholarship means reading books, too.”
    â€œI read books that are…thick.” He picked up the biggest, turned it around, and read the spine aloud. “ Quincy’s Lexicon Physico-Medicum Improved: or a Dictionary of the Terms Employed in Medicine, and in such Departments of Chemistry, Natural Philosophy, Literature, and the Arts, as are connected therewith .” He paused to take a deep breath. “That title is so long, I must have learnt something already.”
    She grinned. “William admired Quincy’s Lexicon and said the book is a dazzling piece of scholarship. It was written in the last century and still contains important information, but William loved to laugh at the silly entries that somehow escaped revision. Of course, medical knowledge is much more advanced nowadays.” She got up from the desk and sat on the large-cushioned chair by the arched Gothic windows. Relieved the subject of conversation changed from frivolous cravats to books, she picked up her needlework.
    Berdy cleared his throat in obvious preparation to read. “A medical dictionary.” He opened the book to a random page. “Let’s see what it says… Breasts, in men they are very