Page 7 of How to Ruin a Rake

“I will accompany you to the inn,” he announced grandly.

“Fine.” Allegra finished her mug of tea and set it down on the table. “And then hopefully I’ll never have to see your face again.”

Max prevailed upon Mrs. Lacock to lend him her husband’s shaving equipment while she pressed his sadly crumpled coat and cravat. His only hope was that no one who knew him would see him in such a sorry state. The last time he felt this grubby, he was a child running through the woods at Devereux castle pursued by his brothers. That joy hadn’t lasted. As the heir, he’d been separated from his brothers and forced to apply to his lessons, watching wistfully through the window as they rode out without him.

He’d never been able to revive the carefree relationship they’d had as boys. They regarded him warily, always sided with his father whenever he did something untoward, and generally went out of their way to avoid him. Not that he blamed them. He’d spent the last few years raising hell, and no one with any sense of propriety wanted to be associated with him.

He raised his chin and carefully scraped away at the stubble with Mr. Lacock’s extremely sharp razor. How he’d ended up in Suffolk with the furious Lady Allegra was still something of a mystery. His original plan had been to drive Lady Carenza to the park, encourage her to promenade with him for a few minutes, and then take her home, thus winning the wager and supplementing his sadly depleted funds.

Why had Landon suddenly decided to drive out of town at some speed and abandon them in the middle of nowhere? And where had he gone?

Max rinsed the blade and stared at his reflection in the small mirror. Was it possible that Landon had injured himself in the crash and was lying helpless somewhere on the side of the road?

To his eternal discredit, Max didn’t actually care at the moment.

He set down the razor, rinsed his face, and wiped it clean. Mrs. Lacock appeared with his pressed clothing, and he thanked her profusely, which made her blush. Ready to face the world, or more specifically, Lady Allegra Musgrove, he went back into the kitchen to find her sitting by the fire petting a large tabby cat.

She looked up as he approached, her clear gray gaze still rather intimidating. She definitely wasn’t a beauty. She was too tall, had the Musgrove nose—which looked better on her father—and rather less curves than he generally appreciated.

“You look slightly improved.”

He swept her a grand bow. “I wish I could say the same for you. Did you even ask Mrs. Lacock to iron your dress?”

“What’s the point? It’ll be getting all crumpled again as soon as we leave this place.”

“For your own sense of self.” He took the seat opposite her, and the cat gave him a baleful stare.

“My sense of worth doesn’t come from my clothing, my lord.” Her gaze swept over him. “I’ve never had to rely on my looks for anything.”

“I can’t help being devilishly handsome.” He fluttered his long eyelashes at her. “I was just born like this.”

“I would refer you to your Bible—Proverbs, thirty-one—but I doubt you’d know the reference,” Lady Allegra retorted.

“Ah, but then you’d be wrong,” Max said. “I believe it says something to the effect that beauty is passing.”

“How on earth do you know that?”

“I received a classical education,” Max said. “It was beaten into me at a very early age.”

She sniffed. “Then I’m sure you’ve worked hard to make certain that your outer beauty is reflected in your inner soul.”

“Alas, I have not.” He pretended to sigh. “But thank you for admitting that you think I’m beautiful.”

“I—” She closed her mouth.

“Glad to see that you’re not a liar,” Max said. “Now, might we turn to other matters? Mr. Lacock said you’d paid him for disrupting his morning.”

“Yes, I did. What of it?”

He held out his hand. “Can you give me my purse back? I assume you took it from me when I was sleeping.”

“I didn’t take your purse.”

He frowned. “Then how did you pay him, and what the devil has happened to my money?”

“I used my own money, sir.” Lady Allegra looked down her magnificent nose at him. “I have no idea where your purse is, although it wouldn’t surprise me if, in your drunken state last night, you’d forgotten to bring it with you.”

“I’m sure I had it when I left for my club last night.” Max fruitlessly searched his pockets again.