Reforming a Rake by Suzanne Enoch

up at him, her expression the odd, distant one he had noticed when he’d rescued her from Aunt Fiona. Immediately his curiosity rose another notch, but she said nothing.
    “I will take your silence to mean you are utterly ecstatic in regards to all other aspects of your employment,” he prompted as they neared his home.
    “You should be nicer to your aunt and your cousin,” she said in a quiet voice. “They’ve lost a husband and a father.”
    “My first lesson?”
    “If you wish to call it that.”
    “Don’t feel too sorry for them,” he replied, unable to keep well-honed cynicism from touching his voice. “As my sole relations, their family line is likely to become extremely well off in the future.”
    “Do you think a promise of future wealth makes up for losing a loved one?”
    “Do you speak from personal experience?” he asked, rather disturbed to realize that her mood affected him.
    Alexandra looked up. “Of course not, my lord. I have no prospects at all.”
    That hadn’t quite answered his question, but it was an intriguing beginning to a number of new ones.
    As they strolled up the drive, he noted that Vincent had fallen far behind them again, as he’d been instructed to do in the first place. Though Lucien hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Miss Gallant as he wanted, he felt quite satisfied. He’d learned a little more about her, though not nearly enough to quell his curiosity or his desires. And he’d begun to advertise to the ton that he was willing to spend a proper afternoon in the company of a proper young lady. That should make things easier when he began his own spousal hunt in earnest.
    In addition, he now had a legitimate excuse to spend more time with Miss Gallant. And if she could improve his manners and demeanor, he would gladly proclaim her a damned miracle worker.

Chapter 4
    A lexandra lay on her bed and pulled a knotted rag back and forth across the coverlet for Shakespeare.
    Twenty-five pounds a month was a small fortune. At her first position, that had been her income for the entire year. And even if she could have afforded to fling the bribe back in her employer’s face, she didn’t think she would have done it.
    Alexandra suspected that had a great deal to do with the way he kept throwing challenges at her. Making Lucien Balfour marriageable could very well qualify her for sainthood. She smiled. Alexandra, patron saint of impossible, egotistical, arrogant men. Of course, the shivers he sent down her spine might have had a little to do with it, as well. Lord Kilcairn was a curiosity, an enigma, and she hadn’t yet begun to figure him out.
    Shakespeare flipped upright, ears perked toward the door. A moment later, someone knocked hesitantly.
    “Miss Gallant?” a female voice called.
    Alexandra stood to slide the bolt back and opened thedoor. “Miss Delacroix,” she said, surprised. “Come in.”
    “Actually, could you come to my bedchamber for a moment?”
    “It’s nearly time to dress for dinner.”
    “Yes, I know.” The girl glanced over her shoulder. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”
    Curious, Alexandra nodded and stepped into the hallway. “Of course.”
    “You see,” Rose continued in a hushed voice, leading the way down the hall, “Mama said I should wear my yellow taffeta to dinner as it complements my eyes, but I really don’t think cousin Lucien likes taffeta very much.”
    As they entered her bedchamber, Alexandra noted the maid standing by the huge wardrobe, the two full-length mirrors flanking the dressing table, and the second standing wardrobe on the far side of the bed. “You brought all this with you from Dorsetshire?”
    “All of the clothes. Cousin Lucien provided the second wardrobe, and the white room for the rest of Mama’s and my things. All of my formal gowns are in there.”
    Alexandra lifted both eyebrows, then pasted on a smile as the girl faced her again. “My goodness.”
    Rose indicated the bright yellow