The Rakehell of Roth by Howard Amalie

Author:Howard, Amalie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 20th Century Historical Romance;Women's Historical Fiction;Humor & Satire Fiction;Women's Humorous Fiction;Regency Historical Romance;General Humorous Fiction;Historical British Fiction;Historical Fiction;Historical Romances;Historical British Fiction;Marquess;Marriage of Convenience;Amalie Howard;The Beast of Beswick by Amalie Howard;Entangled Publishing;Amara;Mass MArket Paperback romance;New Romance;New Release Romance book;Single Title Romance;Series Romance;Forced Marriage;The Rakehell of Roth by Amalie Howard;Humorous Romance;Charming Romance;Humorous Historical Romance;England
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Dearest Friend, they say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. I say the fine edge between them is passion. And besides, a little hate-fucking never hurt anyone.

– Lady Darcy

Dratted masks. They were everywhere.

It was fast becoming an absurd metaphor. Or perhaps a warning, one Isobel wasn’t heeding. Or maybe simply, this was the season for masquerades and they were the latest rage in the ton, because here she stood sipping a glass of lukewarm ratafia at yet another ball, garbed in a gown that cost more than a groom could make in a year, and yes, hiding behind a curved piece of gold-dusted papier-mâché attached to a rod.

Curse her life.

“Where’s your marquess?” Clarissa asked, lowering her own mask.

“How should I know?” she muttered back.

“Testy, are we?” Her friend grinned. “Turns out I know exactly what’s needed to fix what ails you. It involves hard, climbable muscles, sweet nothings”—she cut off dramatically—“better yet, no talking, though lots of nudity, sweaty skin on skin, panting—”

“Clarissa!” Isobel hissed. “We’re in public.”

“It’s loud, and besides, no one is paying any mind to us.”

But that wasn’t exactly true, Isobel noted sourly. The guests had been staring at her from the moment the majordomo announced her arrival on Oliver’s arm. Of course, the gossip fires had ignited shortly afterward, speculating as to Lord Roth’s whereabouts and whether his wife was having a secret liaison with his brother.

Kendrick had cried off tonight’s invitation, citing fatigue, but insisting that she and Clarissa attend, and he’d given Oliver a clear order to escort them. To Isobel’s surprise, Oliver had acquiesced without a fuss. Which reminded her…

“What’s going on between you and Oliver?”

Clarissa’s eyes popped wide. “I beg your pardon.”

Her gaze narrowed on her friend. “You turn rigorously polite when you’re trying to hide something. Don’t forget I know you.”

Cheeks pinkening, Clarissa’s mouth opened and shut, causing Isobel’s suspicions to heighten. “Nothing. He’s been solicitous since the incident at the gallery. He brought me tea.”

“So there is something going on? You wretch, why didn’t you tell me?” Isobel gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, you like him. You want to have his babies!”

“You’re so childish.” Clarissa’s eyes fell away. “He’s not so bad, not truly.”

“But I thought you loathed the very air he breathed.” To Isobel’s stunned surprise, her friend went beet-red, which suggested she might be partaking of the same air of her former enemy. “Clarissa Gwendolyn Bell, what have you done?”

“Not here,” she hissed, practically using her mask as a shield.

Isobel grinned and repeated her friend’s words. “No one is paying any mind to us. Spill the beans before I’m forced to take drastic measures and find a drool-worthy shelf of muscles for you to climb, and I’m not talking about your crush on Lord Tight-Arse.”

“Izzy!”

“Doesn’t feel good now that the shoe is on the other foot, does it?” Isobel teased as Clarissa went from rosy-cheeked to flaming at the ears. “So, tell me, Clarissa dear, have you kissed him yet?”

“Kissed whom?” a deep voice interrupted.

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