Read Saved by a Rake for Free Online Page A

she inclined her head in his direction. A warm feeling settled in her belly, and heat flushed her cheeks.
    She quickly opened her fan and wafted it to cool herself down. Why had she only been introduced to him once in the six years that she had been out in society? She had seen him at the odd entertainment or ball , but he usually spent his time in the card room or talking to his friends. In fact, she could not recall ever having seen him dance.
    She smiled inwardly. At least, no matter what else happened, she could not be accused of being a wallflower at the ball the next evening.
    He was talking to her mama before taking his leave, and the countess looked charmed. Rebecca’s gaze moved from his immaculate riding boots, over his buff breeches and the tails of his navy blue coat, to his fashionably-cut black hair.
    He was a very handsome gentleman. But then, he also had a reputation as a rake. She frowned slightly as he left the room with James. She should be careful around him. She knew he had lovers. What if he expected her to be his lover and was another gentleman who took what he wanted without gaining permission?
    She shook the thoughts away. No matter. It was a ball and she would be in sight of chaperones at all times. Surely Lord Ramsey was not of the same ilk as that man .
    ****
    Rebecca glanced around the large ballroom as she entered with her parents and brother. She was grateful to James for attending, for she knew that in any other circumstances, he would have given the marriage mart a wide berth.
    Hundreds of candles flickered in the large chandeliers, the wooden floor shone and small lights twinkled in the garden through the large French doors which led onto the balcony. In some ways this felt like any other Ton ball she had attended. And in others, it felt as if she was making her come out all over again. All eyes were on her, and conversations stopped as her party moved around the ballroom to find an empty spot in which to stand.
    The ballroom in Lady Wilmott ’s large mansion on Grosvenor Square never failed to take Rebecca’s breath away. She had always entertained fanciful ideas of having her own ballroom, in her own house one day. Sadness seemed to wash through her as reality hit her, just as hard as Newthorpe’s slap had.
    The fact that she had been admitted to the ball was a relief after James had apprised her of the rumours Newthorpe had been circulating. Of course, James had assured her that none of his friends believed a word of the scandal, but the tender ache of the healing bruises between her thighs were a very real reminder that her innocence was gone and no man would want a ruined chit for a bride.
    She tugged slightly at the neckline of her blue silk gown. Was it too revealing? Did it scream the words “light skirt” to anyone who had heard the gossip? She had chosen this dress particularly because it was slightly higher at the neck.
    Her mother frowned at her. Rather than facing her mother ’s disapproval she opened her fan and held it in front of her décolletage.
    Lady Wilmott ’s balls were always one of the highlights of the season, and it seemed that everyone in the Ton was in attendance.
    R ebecca answered politely when her parents’ friends asked after her health, but she was painfully aware that none of her own friends had approached. It seemed she was to be that week’s drawing room scandal after all. She was considering feigning a headache and asking to go home, or at least to sit in the ladies withdrawing room, when James approached—with Lord Ramsey at his side.
    If her brother, with his blond curls and immaculate evening wear cut a dashing figure as he strode around the edge of the dance floor, it was nothing compared to the Adonis that was Lord Daniel Ramsey, viscount and heir to the earldom of Drumbane.
    “Good evening, Lord Chapelbrooke, Lady Chapelbrooke, Lady Rebecca.” He bowed to each in turn, and they bowed and curtseyed back.
    Rebecca ’s stomach seemed to be