My Wicked Earl: Wicked Lords of London Book 6 by Andresen Tammy

Author:Andresen, Tammy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Leaving the solicitor’s office, Rex and Jacob wore matching grins.

“I can’t believe you looked at Mr. Winthrop and said, in all sincerity, ‘We’ll take two.’ As though coal mines were scones or pasties.”

Rex chuckled. “Mark my words. Listen to Theo and by the time you are five and twenty, you’ll be able to say the same.”

It was approaching noon and the streets were far busier then when they’d entered. Maids bustled about running errands while gentleman and lords made their way to their respective clubs to begin their days.

“I hope so,” Jacob said, sidestepping a woman with a large basket. “I still can’t believe our fortunes will change. The past year has been…”

Rex stopped hearing the boy. Up ahead he caught sight of dirty blond hair and an overly tight pair of pantaloons. By the back of the man, he’d swear that he was looking at Lord Winston Rathemore.

He jammed his forefinger and thumb into his eyes. He couldn’t happen upon the man now, not when he was intent upon tearing the bastard apart. But sure enough, the figure ahead turned into a doorway and he caught sight of the man’s profile. It was that bloody excuse for a man.

Blood rushed in his ears. “Jacob, head home. I’ll join you shortly,” Rex mumbled, his eyes on the door into which Rathemore had just disappeared. His entire body clenched for the confrontation that was about to follow.

“What? Why? We have chores to do.” Jacob tugged on his arm. “Is something wrong? You look ready to fight a battle.”

He relaxed the muscles of his face. “Everything is fine. I’ll hire a hack and join you shortly.”

Jacob’s forehead creased but he gave a tight nod of consent as he continued on to the stable they’d housed the carriage.

As soon as the boy had disappeared, Rex headed for the door that Rathemore had entered. His fingers itched with unused tension he’d like to release on Rathemore’s face. The corners of his mouth turned up, it was a public club. How perfect.

Entering into a darkened hall, he made his way to the lounge where several men were already seated in overstuffed chairs, drinks in hand.

He spotted Rathemore making himself comfortable in the corner. Without wasting any time, he made his way over to the man.

“Rathemore,” he said by way of greeting.

The other man looked up at him in surprise. “Casterly? Is that you, old chap? I haven’t seen you in five years at least.” He gave Rex a jovial grin. “I thought you died of malaria on that island it’s been so long. What brings you back to London?”

Rex grimaced. He was ashamed to note just how familiar he’d once been with this waste of a man. “I’ve been well and island life has suited me.” Had he just used the past tense?

“Glad to hear it. Are you back for good?” Rathemore asked as he stood. “I could use a partner in crime. My last fell prey to the marriage noose.”

A rumble of anger erupted from deep in his chest.

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