ONE MORE REASON TO RUN BY CASSIDY CREWE – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cassidy Crewe
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary romance
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- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
May 1820
London, England
As one of the most dissolute rakes in all of London, Evander Beauclerk
was game to try almost anything. But today, he was doing something
he absolutely never did.
Going over the ledgers of his father’s insurance business.
This was a mark of how deeply he was dreading the conversation he
was about to have with his father. He would do anything to distract himself.
Slouching in a leather wingchair in his father’s study, Vander frowned
as he scratched out the total in yet another column. He hated this sort of
drudgework, and considering his father had insisted upon meeting at the
ungodly hour of half-nine, he’d managed only three hours of sleep.
Combined with the fact that his head was still pounding from the
impressive volume of brandy he’d consumed the previous night, he wasn’t
adding up the numbers as effortlessly as he usually would.
But it was a good thing someone was double-checking these figures. It
had never occurred to him that his father, from whom he had inherited his
considerable mathematical acumen, would lose a step in his middle age. But
judging by the fact that he had bungled the calculation in six out of the eight
columns, it appeared the old man’s mind was a shadow of its former glory.
The door swung open, and his father minced into the room with the tiny,
precise stride Vander could have picked out from a mile away. Cedric
Beauclerk pushed his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose as he peered
at his son. “Evander. Good, you’re here.”
Vander bit back a groan. His father was the only one who called him
Evander. He was Vander to his friends, Beauclerk to most everyone else,
and Mister Beauclerk in polite company… not that Vander found himself in
polite company on anything resembling a regular basis.
It wasn’t that Vander disliked his full name; it was more the way his
father said it. He always managed to emphasize the first syllable, “EEEVander,” in a way that made Vander feel like he was twelve years old and
about to receive a paddling from the headmaster.
His father took his time arranging the file folder he’d brought with him
on the oversized mahogany desk, then finally turned to his son.
“So. Evander. I imagine you know why I summoned you today.”
Vander had a fair notion but wasn’t about to admit as much. “You’ll
have to enlighten me.”
Giving a pinched frown, his father opened the file folder. He withdrew a
single page of newsprint, turned it to face Vander, and slid it across the
desk. “Care to explain this?”
Vander peered at the gossip column:
The Rake Review
By The Brazen Belle
May 1, 1820
Dearest reader,
Rough winds may shake the darling buds of May, whose blooms, many a
poet has observed, are all too fleeting.
Not so the rakes of London, who are boundless in their multitudes. This
month, as always, your diligent Belle has sifted through this interminable
supply, and found a rake who has risen above his fellows:
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