[Cornick Nicola] The Last Rake in London(Bookos.org) by The Last Rake in London

cheaper.
    ‘I dined with Mr Kestrel last night,’ she added.
    Connie’s eyes opened very wide. ‘Mr Jack Kestrel? He wanted to dine with you ?’ Her face crumpled with disappointment and jealousy. ‘Oh, I would have liked to meet him!’
    ‘He would like to meet you too,’ Sally said grimly.
    Connie smiled, good humour restored. ‘Naturally he would. Everyone who is anyone in London wishes to meet me.’
    ‘In order to take back the letters Mr Basset wrote to you, which I believe you have been trying to use to blackmail Mr Basset’s father.’
    Connie bit her lip. A shade of colour had crept into her cheeks and she looked defensive. ‘That was a mistake.’
    ‘It certainly was.’ Sally tapped her fingers on the banister. ‘What are you up to, Connie?’ she said softly. ‘I know there is something going on. You have been with Mr Basset all night and yet you were trying to extort money from his father.’
    Connie sighed exaggeratedly. ‘Oh, Sal, you are so naïve!’ Her hair swung forward, hiding her expression. ‘Bertie and I had a falling out. I thought it was all over.’
    Sally’s heart sank at this confirmation of her sister’s guilt. ‘So you tried to make some money out of the affair.’
    ‘Why not?’ Connie straightened up. ‘He owed me something.’
    ‘And now that you and Mr Basset are reconciled, what are you planning to do?’ Sally asked sarcastically. ‘Write Lord Basset a letter of apology?’
    Connie brightened. ‘Oh, that is a splendid idea! We may pretend that the whole matter never happened.’
    ‘I was joking,’ Sally said. ‘Mr Kestrel is hardly the man to let the matter go, even if Lord Basset is. And does Mr Basset know that you threatened his father, Connie?’
    The colour deepened in Connie’s cheeks. ‘No! But he would forgive me if he did. We love each other.’
    This unlikely declaration made Sally raise her eyebrows, but she managed to repress the expressions of disbelief that jostled on her lips. ‘Best to make a clean breast of it, then,’ she said, ‘and tell him everything before his cousin does. Mr Kestrel will no doubt come back later. You could try to convince him of your good faith, although I think,’ she added drily, ‘that he will be less easy to persuade than Mr Basset.’
    ‘Oh, I will win him around,’ Connie said airily. ‘He is supposed to have an eye for a pretty face.’ She yawned. ‘I must go to bed, Sally darling, or my complexion will look dismal tonight.’
    With a vague wave of the hand she scampered along the corridor, and Sally heard the decisive click of the door behind her. Sighing, she walked back to her own room and started, rather listlessly, to hunt for something to wear. Talking to Connie about her attempted extortion had depressed her spirits. Even if Connie and Bertie were reconciled, it seemed likely that Lord Basset would think the connection highly unsuitable and try to separate the pair, using Jack as his messenger. And Connie’s feelings for Bertie did not appear to go very deep.
    Anxiety gnawed at her. In the heat of the night with Jack she had forgotten all about Connie and her extortion and blackmail. She had given herself to him with a passion and a hunger that had driven everything else from her mind. Now, however, she remembered that they would not have met at all had Jack not come to the Blue Parrot to find Connie. And he would not have forgotten his original intention, no matter how hot the desire that burned between them. She thought of Jack, and their fledgling affair, and the fact that her bed was cold and empty in the morning. She thought of her newly discovered love for him, how fragile and foolish it was, and then she felt afraid, and she could not quite shake the superstitious conviction that something was going to go terribly wrong.
     
    ‘Mr Churchward has called to see you, Mr Kestrel,’ Hudson, the butler, intoned. ‘I told him that you were still at breakfast and he is awaiting you in the