A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel (The Doomsday Books, #2)

by K.J. Charles

“You speculated my mother bore a girl and switched me at birth with an orphan boy, as though she were a Bourbon queen, not a draper’s daughter,” Rufus said with all the patience he could muster, which was scant. “Then you said I was an impostor who’d stolen a dying man’s identity on the battlefield.”

But there was still a kernel of him that was a desperate, lost, hungry thing, and no matter how hard he tried to starve it out, it was always there, poking its head out at a sniff of affection, howling for more, making him hopeful and vulnerable and stupid.

Luke’s head came up sharply, and the look on his face could have broken a man’s heart, so shocked and raw and yearning. “I,” he said, and then started again. “Thank you. Thank you for thinking of that, but there’s no need to worry.”

Luke feel stupidly soft and vulnerable and cared for; he was brawny and bulky and mouth-wateringly good to look at, and it was all so unfair that Luke could have cried.

“I’ll tell you what next.” Rufus’s eyes were on his. “You take your pleasure now, exactly as you like best, as long as you like, and then I will turn you over and take mine, as long and slow and hard as I like. Think about that, you blasted apocalypse, and be aware that when it’s my turn, I’m going to make you know my rights.”

It shows…oh, that there’s glory in the world, and some of it is here too. Do you know what I mean?”

“He doesn’t make me feel that at all. He’s a draper’s son and proud of it, and he has a very high opinion of me. Stupidly high. He thinks I’m marvellous.” The word was choking.

It was important to be understood.

Everything had been a lie. Every word. Every smile. Every touch. And Rufus had been so easily lied to. He’d wanted an ally, a friend in the house; he’d wanted Luke, with his wicked laughing eyes. He’d taken every crumb Luke threw his way, and counted himself blessed beyond all men. Glorious Luke Doomsday, changing his hand for Rufus, taking his side, sharing his bed: oh, he’d been so perfect. A wiser man might have wondered about that. Not Rufus d’Aumesty, the blundering oaf he was, led by the nose by a clever trickster. Luke had lied, and lied, and lied, and Rufus had swallowed it all. That was his great love affair: weeks upon weeks of calculation and deception.

Joss was normally a measured, even-tempered sort of man. But he loved Gareth deeply, he protected his family, and he always knew what was going on. Those were the three pillars of his life and Luke had struck at all of them at once.

“I’m sorry we didn’t do better. Me, Ma, all the Doomsdays. I’m sorry I didn’t see more, and I’m sorry your father hurt you and we let him. I don’t know what I can do about that now, but Gareth called me over for it last night, again. He says we’ve never mended what Elijah broke, in you or between us, and I’ve no doubt he’s right. So…I love you, Luke. You’re my cousin, and a Doomsday, and a sneaking bettermy wretch with twice the brains of the rest of us together, and you saved Gareth’s life, and I love you. It queers me what you’ve been up to at Stone Manor, and I can’t say I’m happy about it, but whatever trouble you’re in, whatever you need to get out of it, all the Doomsdays are standing ready to help. Because I don’t care what you did: nobody touches you on the Marsh while I’ve got my strength. Hear me?”

Luke, Luke, his apocalypse. Half of Rufus wanted to shake him till his teeth rattled; the other half to hold him close and tell him it was all right, he was forgiven, he was wanted, he belonged. Rufus had no idea which course of action would be better. Maybe he should do both.

“He means, I’m scared you don’t care, so I’m not giving you a chance to prove it,” Emily said. “He’s that way, Luke. Aunt Sybil says he’s hard to love but it’s not true. What’s hard is making him see it when you do, because he’s already decided you don’t.”

“I said right now!” Emily snapped. “Or I’ll send for the Doomsdays to do it!” “I can break down my own doors,” Rufus said. “Get me an axe.”

“I know. I thought it anyway, and I couldn’t bear it. God damn it, I’m putting my foot down. You invoked droit du seigneur: well, I am exercising it. You asked for my protection, so you are mine to look after, and I am taking no more nonsense

“No,” Rufus said. “Because I loved you before, and I wanted you before. But also yes, because you told me the truth. I think you’ve been telling the truth all along, even when you were trying not to.”

“But I didn’t see how to do it without you. We make things work together. This is your place along with me, and you ought to be here. You ought to be here and safe and loved, and ruling the roast like the overreaching little swine you are, and I will do anything in my power to give you that if you just stay with me. That’s an order. I’m begging you. Please.”

Rufus cupped his face. “My Doomsday. The end of my world.”