“Apologies, darling,” he drawled, adoring the blush that flared high on her cheeks, forgiving him. Jasper tossed her a wicked grin before offering a bow that would make a courtier proud. She stood, one hand to her lovely, blossoming breast. The room was dark and quiet in the pale grey light of a bitterly cold March morning, dark enough to hide his disheveled clothes, half-tied cravat, and the love bite peeking out from beneath his loosened collar.Īs the door closed behind him, a startled kitchen maid looked up from where she crouched, half-inside the hearth, stoking the flames in preparation for the arrival of the cook. He popped the latch on the rear entrance to the Arlesey House kitchens and crept inside. One side of Jasper’s mouth kicked up in a private smile as he recalled the pleasure he’d found in excess that evening, then faded at the twinge of regret he’d felt as he’d climbed from warm sheets and willing arms. In the bed of a beautiful woman.īaine wasn’t the only one who lived up to expectations. then celebrating by doing precisely the kind of thing errant younger sons were wont to do. Jasper, instead, had been busy winning a fortune at one of London’s wickedest gaming hells. But his promises were more whisper than word-everyone knew that-and so it had been Baine who had done the chaperoning. Yes, Jasper had originally agreed to the task, promising Lavinia that he wouldn’t dare miss such an important evening in her young life. Which was why that evening, Baine had chaperoned their younger sister at her first visit to Almack’s. all.Īnd flawless, proper, boring Baine lived up to every one of those expectations. It was Baine who was required to live up to the expectations of those around him-parents. On Baine rested the hopes and dreams of a long line of Lords Harlow. On Baine lay the heavy weight of respectability and responsibility that came with being heir. He also knew, with the keen understanding of a criminal narrowly escaping the gallows, that-despite having to forgo heredity title, estate, and fortune-he was the luckiest man on Earth to have been born seventeen months to the day after Owen Elwood Arthur Arlesey, eldest child, first son, Viscount Baine and heir to the earldom.

And Jasper Arlesey, the second son of Earl Harlow, knew it. No, freedom was not for heirs, but for spares. He could wreak his havoc, sow his wild oats, and scandalize society with his youthful indiscretions, but his future was cast in stone by the finest of masons: He would eventually find himself shackled to his title, his land, and his estate-a prisoner of peerage alongside his brethren in the House of Lords.

Indeed, if there was one truth in society it was this: Rake, rogue, or scoundrel-an heir required reformation. There were benefits to being the second son.

No duke goes unpunished