Read The Rake Revealed for Free Online Page A

Take to wearing breeches and smoking a pipe. Call on people after ten at night. That kind of thing. Nobody will hold it against you.’
    ‘Because I am foreign?’
    ‘And dreadfully pretty. It’s a charming combination, let me assure you. I think it safe to say that you may consider the world your oyster.’
    Camille bit her lip, resisting the urge to smile. Men like Lord Tapscott needed no encouragement. ‘I am eager to familiarize myself with the local customs,’ she said instead, trying to sound severe. ‘I do not think I need to frighten my new neighbors by doing anything so shocking. But tell me, my lord, how do you amuse yourself locally?’ Apart from bedding local women and sustaining near mortal wounds, she added silently.
    ‘Very well, actually. This coastline has some truly fascinating Roman remains.’ He said it so seriously that she was momentarily taken aback.
    ‘You are interested in archaeology, my lord?’ She tried to keep the incredulity out of her voice.
    ‘I am,’ he agreed, voice earnest. ‘That is why I trespass on Mr. Morosett’s time so cruelly.’
    This was overheard by the gentleman across the table who murmured sardonically, ‘Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Tapscott.’
    Camille looked across and met those frosty grey eyes. ‘And you are interested in the archeology, too, Mr. Morosett?’
    ‘Not at all,’ he curled his lip, ‘but I am regularly overwhelmed by Lord Tapscott’s enthusiasm.’
    Camille gave his lordship a swift, searching glance. Archeology? Really? ‘These remains, they are a fort, perhaps? Or a village? I am afraid I do not know a great deal about it.’
    ‘Knowledge on the subject is unnecessary,’ Mr. Morosett assured her. ‘You have my word.’
    Lord Tapscott ignored this, launching eagerly forth. ‘Both, but that was often the case. Villages regularly sprang up around forts as the soldiers settled in and married the local women. After a few years it was just like any other English village, but for the Roman garrisons and the training.’
    ‘Please!’ Morosett sounded pained. ‘Do not get him to talk of it, Lady Durham. He can go for hours.’
    Tapscott smiled, not in the least offended. ‘Poor Morosett. I’m afraid he’s been forced to listen to me rattle on rather a lot.’
    ‘And while naturally I am enchanted to do so,’ Morosett returned sweetly, ‘I insist that others share in the joy, my dear boy! Preferably when I am elsewhere.’
    There was generally laughter from those who had overheard this comment, but Camille was puzzled. While Lord Tapscott might truly be fascinated by all things archeological, it seemed a very odd interest for the man, especially when she remembered the state of him in her drawing room. She had met others who had similar interests when she had stayed with her family in the Burgundy district. The town of Autun had boasted all manner of Roman remains and the village played host to various archeological digs. Of all the, generally mad, English archeologists she encountered, not one of them was like Lord Tapscott.
    ‘And what of you, Mr. Morosett,’ Camille inquired, ‘Have you any particular interests that capture your attention?’
    ‘He’s mad about French miniatures,’ Tapscott said cheerfully. ‘Isn’t that right Morosett? House is full of them.’
    Mr. Morosett’s thin nostrils flared a little. ‘It is an especial interest of mine. Do you care for them yourself, Lady Durham?’
    ‘Miniatures?’ Camille wracked her brain. She could recall that her mother had a few, pretty little things kept on a shelf in a china cabinet. ‘I believe my mother had several from Limoges. They were quite delightful.’
    Morosett sat up a little straighter in his chair and raised the quizzing glass to survey her with renewed interest. ‘Your mother collected Limoges porcelain?’
    ‘She had several pieces. All lost now, of course.’
    ‘And did she also collect Vincennes? Or possibly pieces from the Chantilly region?’