When Only a Rake Will Do by Jennifer McNare

the past week, an unexpected encounter with the beguiling young temptress was the last thing he needed.
    “Oh look,” Ashleigh said in the very next instant, tipping her head to the side as she glanced around his large frame.  “Isn’t that Lady Daphne with the Marquess of Bouqefort?”
    Bouqefort?   With his gaze focused upon Daphne, he hadn’t noticed the marquess standing just a few feet to her left.  He stiffened slightly as his thoughts took an abrupt and entirely different turn.  “Yes, it appears so,” he commented, his tone deliberately impassive.  However, despite his tone, he was anything but indifferent to the sight of Daphne with Bouqefort, for the handsome marquess was a known rake whose reputation was nearly as notorious as his own. 
    What the devil was she doing with the likes of him?  Didn’t she know any better, he wondered irritably, than to publicly consort with a man of his character, and not a chaperone in sight no less?  Then again, perhaps she did, he considered with a sudden, sinking feeling, his mind recoiling at the notion.  But despite his immediate effort to cast it aside, the displeasing notion stubbornly remained.  Damn it all, he thought, his eyes narrowing as he studied them.  Having denied her request, was she still intent on pursuing her objective?  Was she even now in search of someone else with whom to carry out her outrageous plan, a man like Bouqefort?  And if so, why did the mere thought of the marquess, or any man for that matter, taking Daphne up on her scandalous proposal make him feel like putting his fist through the bloody wall.
    “Brendon, are you alright?” Ashleigh asked, breaking into his thoughts.
    He blinked and refocused his gaze.  Ashleigh was regarding him with raised brows, her expression searching.  “Of course,” he replied, struggling to keep his emotions in check.  Raising his hand, he motioned to the next display case.  “Shall we move on to the next exhibit?”
    “Actually, I think that I would prefer to say hello to Lady Daphne first,” Ashleigh responded, already moving in that direction.
    With little choice but to follow along, Brendon turned, trailing in her footsteps.
    “Lady Daphne and Lord Bouqefort, how lovely to see you both,” Ashleigh exclaimed as she approached the couple.
    “Your Grace, hello,” Daphne replied warmly, dropping into a curtsey before the young duchess as Bouqefort repeated the greeting and made his bow.
    “Lord Leighton,” she murmured then, with a quick nod to Brendon as he came to stand beside the duchess.  It was the first time she’d seen him since her humiliation at his brother and sister-in-law’s home, and in that moment she wished more than anything that the ground would suddenly open up and swallow her whole. 
    “Lady Daphne, a pleasure to see you again.”  She managed a slight smile, Brendon noted, before quickly looking away.
    “Hello Leighton,” the marquess addressed Brendon affably.
    “Bouqefort,” he replied rather brusquely.  Though the two were longtime acquaintances, he wasn’t feeling particularly sociable at the moment.
    “Are the two of you enjoying the exhibit?” Ashleigh asked, glancing between Daphne and the marquess.
    “Yes, quite so, it’s a remarkable collection,” Bouqefort replied.
    “It certainly is,” Daphne agreed.  “I’m so glad you made mention of it the other day, Your Grace.”
    “The other day?”  Brendon looked to Ashleigh, his brow raised inquiringly.
    “Lady Daphne and I ran into each other at the Halifax affair earlier in the week,” Ashleigh explained.
    “Ah.”  The pieces were falling into place.  He could almost feel Ashleigh cringe as she stood beside him.
    “Yes,” Daphne affirmed.  “And when I in turn made mention of the exhibition during a conversation with Lord Bouqefort later that evening, he was kind enough to invite me to accompany him to the private showing.”
    “Only a fool would have ignored such a fortuitous