How To Build The Perfect Rake by Kate Harper Page A

wettest of geese, my
friend.’
    ‘Olympia did say something of the kind.
Still, I can hardly expect scintillating entertainment. He writes
poetry for God’s sake.’
    Mr. Featherstone gave a slow grin. ‘It
almost makes me regret not going.’
    ‘You were invited?’
    ‘Hardly. And I daresay you weren’t either.
The Falstaff does not care for too many fellows hanging about the
place. Makes him look even more of a mutton headed fool than he
already is.’
    ‘A rake, as you and Olympia keep reminding
me, goes uninvited into the fray,’ Luc observed loftily. ‘If Mr.
Falstaff tries to oust me I shall reduce him to a puddle with my
cutting wit.’
    ‘I say,’ Freddy was clearly impressed, ‘Howe
did a devilishly good job if he managed to instill a cutting wit
into you.’
    ‘Idiot.’
    ‘Do come by and tell me everything that
happens tonight, won’t you?’ his friend begged. ‘I imagine it is
going to be a complete zoo. You can’t pay for that kind of
amusement.’
    And Luc, rising from his chair to return
home and prepare for the night ahead, rather thought that Freddy
had the measure of the evening’s entertainment.
    In all likelihood, it as going to be ghastly
beyond belief.
     

Chapter Four
     
     
     
     
     
    Luc arrived to pick up Olympia promptly at
seven-thirty, as instructed. She was just coming down the stairs
but paused, eyeing him critically. Also as instructed, he had
dressed for effect, selecting entirely black; black breeches, black
waistcoat and a black jacket. His boots – gleaming their glossy
perfection – were black and, rather unusually, he had elected to
wear a neckcloth of that very color. The entire effect was
remarkably dramatic and she nodded, continuing down until she stood
before him. His new hairstyle suited him remarkably well, giving
some distinction to his even features. He didn’t look nearly as
much like the amiable, eager-to-please Lucien St James of old.
    ‘I approve.’
    ‘Really? You don’t think the neckcloth is
too much?’
    He managed to say this
while retaining his languid drawl so that it somehow changed both
the meaning and intent. ‘I do like the voice. And no… the neckcloth is what
makes the ensemble stand out. It is deliciously
dramatic.’
    ‘It is deuced hard to dress with an eye for
the notable when one’s wardrobe is constrained by a lack of
material. I am beginning to sympathize with the dandies for their
foppish ways. Their choices, at least, are many and varied.’
    ‘If somewhat ridiculous,’
Olympia murmured, wondering how Luc managed to get that note in his
voice. It was surprisingly effective and she shivered, just a
little, uneasiness touching her. This was not the man she knew,
not her Luc. This
was some stranger, for all his familiar face. Then suddenly, he
grinned.
    ‘True enough. That’s an awfully pretty dress
you have on.’
    She glanced down at the
pale green satin gown with its lace trim around the bodice and
sleeves. It was a
pretty dress and she knew it went well with her brunette coloring
but she was a little surprised Luc should notice. He didn’t
usually. ‘Thank you?’
    He chuckled. ‘A certain kind of gentleman
always notices what a lady wears and compliments her on it. Or
remains stonily silent, depending on his interest in the female in
question.’
    ‘Ah,’ she nodded her understanding, ‘words
of wisdom from our Lord Howe.’
    ‘He might be a flash cove but he knows his
stuff, I must say.’
    ‘Come and say a quick hello to Aunt Flora
and then we can be off.’
    Aunt Flora, ensconced in the parlor with a
pile of ladies periodicals and a bowl of candied fruit was somewhat
taken aback by Luc’s outfit. ‘My dear, did somebody die?’
    This earned a gurgle of laughter from
Olympia and a groan from Mr. St James. ‘I never thought of that.
What if I’m asked sympathetic questions half the night about a
death in the family? Not the look I’m aiming for at all.’
    ‘You’re not wearing an armband,’