Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight: How to Reform a Rake Read online

  Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight

  How to Reform a Rake

  Tammy Andresen

  Contents

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Make a Viscount Beg

  Other Titles by Tammy Andresen

  About the Author

  Untitled

  Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight

  How to Reform a Rake Book 4

  * * *

  Tammy Andresen

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  * * *

  Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight is a standalone romance that is the fourth of five books in a series. Your reading experience, however, would be enhanced if you first read the FREE prologue to the series, How to Reform a Rake. Not only is it a quick, fun read but it will give you tantalizing insight into Key and Victoria’s story.

  * * *

  All my love,

  Tammy

  Chapter One

  Victoria stood watching her sister, Cristina, hold the hand of her new husband. It was their wedding breakfast and she had never seen Cristina happier. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, as her sister gave Sirius Renwall, Earl of Clearwood, a glowing smile that lit her entire face and pulled at the apples of her cheeks.

  Victoria retrieved a kerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. It was nice to see such a happy ending considering how difficult life had been of late. Her father stood next to her.

  “Where are we, Victoria?” he asked.

  She grasped his hand, her heart twisting in her chest. “We are at the Duke of Longley’s London estate, Papa.” A beautiful setting for such a grey day, she mused. Rich wood furniture was softened by shimmering silk brocade fabric. Several arrangements of flowers decorated the large sitting room where the wedding breakfast was being served.

  “Who is Lord Longley?”

  Her lips pursed together as she held back a groan. “Your daughter Lily’s husband.”

  He nodded absently. “Are we here for breakfast?” He gave her a hopeful smile as he looked down at the plate of food in his hand.

  She blinked away tears. He was getting worse by the day. “This is Cristina’s wedding breakfast, Papa.”

  “Oh yes,” he answered flatly. “Now I remember.”

  Victoria’s insides twisted uncomfortably again. Her mother had run off recently without a word to where she had gone, though the why had become apparent. Lady Rosemond had been having an affair with a much younger man, who also happened to be her daughter’s former fiancé. Victoria clenched in her skirts. How could her mother act in such a deplorable and selfish way?

  Taking a deep breath, then exhaling slowly, Victoria relaxed her fingers. She couldn’t dwell on that now. Instead, she’d made a plan, a good one. Her life, since she’d been a child, had been filled with academic pursuits. The study of animals and their habitats filling her free time. It was a pastime she quite enjoyed but it made her less…interesting to the male species.

  She’d known that for some time. The moment she began talking, most men ceased listening if they were kind or openly laughed at her if they weren’t.

  She gripped her father’s hand more tightly. He was losing his mental faculties. Which brought her back to her plan. Of all of her sisters, she was the least likely to find a match. So, after careful consideration, and weighing various options, she’d made her decision. She would remain unmarried and be her father’s caretaker instead. It would leave her free to continue her studies and allow her sisters the freedom from responsibility they needed to build their own futures.

  “Is this why you’re staying with Max? Your father can’t even remember his daughter’s wedding?” A deep voice rumbled behind her, rippling across her skin in the strangest way.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she swallowed down a lump as she met the deep blue eyes of Lord Kenneth Kissinger. “It’s none of your concern,” she answered, turning forward again.

  “Your brother-in-law has asked for my help, which makes it my business.” He had moved closer and his breath tickled along the back of her neck. It might have been pleasant except for the smell of stale alcohol from the evening before.

  “Help with what? I don’t see how you’d be able to help anyone in the condition you’re in.” She straightened, moving away from him if only an inch or two.

  She heard his rumble of protest a second before he spoke. “I beg your pardon.”

  Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Do you always drink enough to look like death or was Si and Cristina’s wedding a special occasion?” While it was obvious he was a handsome man, his blond hair was sticking out at various angles while his shirt was wrinkled as though he’d slept in it the night before. He likely had. While the blue of his eyes were the color of the ocean on a sunny day, they were rimmed with red.

  Of course, his disheveled state didn’t hide his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and lean torso, but she mostly ignored that. And his putrid color helped to hide just how sinfully handsome he was.

  “It is completely normal for men to drink the eve before a wedding,” he ground out.

  “With the groom. Yes. But Si looks as though he got a lovely night’s sleep. In fact, I’ve never seen him look…fresher.” She turned again and gazed at him from the top of his disheveled hair, down his wrinkled trousers, over his leather shoes, her lips pursing. She knew she was antagonizing him in a way that she didn’t usually act with men. Well, with anyone really.

  The problem was that Kenneth, though all his friends referred to him as Key, had made a bet that he would steal a kiss from her. It was a dastardly and rakish thing to do, to make such a hideous bet. Though she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t considered allowing him to have that kiss. Not in this condition, of course.

  But as she’d decided to stay unmarried, she’d thought she might collect one kiss in her life. A memory to look back on when she was an old spinster.

  “If I hadn’t heard you patiently explain to your father where he was, I’d swear you were the most difficult woman in all of England.”

  Difficult? She shifted her weight and adjusted her skirts. She supposed that she was . “It’s true, I suppose, and I may as well explain to you that I thought about allowing you to just kiss me, you know, to get this entire bet affair over and done.”

  He turned even paler. “I have no intention of kissing you.”

  She raised her brows as she let go of her father and spun about to really look into Key’s eyes. “You’re not a rake who goes around kissing all sorts of women?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose I am. But I’m not kissing you, so you might as well forget your little plans.”

  For a moment, those words hurt. She’d felt the sting of rejection from many men and he was far more handsome than most, even in his current condition. But she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Well then, we are in agreement. You find me as lacking as I find you.” Then, whirling about, she laced her arm through her father’s. She didn’t want to talk with Kenneth Kissinger ever again. He was poking at wounds inside her best forgotten, while creating a riot of butterflies in her belly for some strange reason.

  “Who said I found you lacking?”

  Kenneth Kissinger
crossed his arms over his chest as he assessed Victoria Ducat’s complicated coif. Her hair was twisted into an elaborate design at the base of her neck that did little to hide its glossy texture all the while highlighting the delicate column of her neck.

  Her breath caught at his words, a breathy little sound that made his body tighten.

  “You just said that you had no intention of kissing me.”

  “I don’t.”

  Her head cocked back to look at him and then slowly she turned back to face him. Her voice was prim, her words measured, carefully and thoughtfully weighed. But the lips that uttered them were complete sin. Full and plump, their pale pink color begged to be kissed. Her eyes a dark, warm brown that sparkled in the morning light even as her high cheekbones flushed with color. She was breathtaking. “I don’t understand.”

  He had the distinct impression that she usually understood everything. Did she know about the gypsy who had facilitated their bet? That the gypsy, Vadoma, claimed kissing these Ducats were their fate? And his three friends before him? Well, they’d kissed their Ducats and promptly married them. His gut roiled with last night’s liquor. Fools.

  Did she understand that he had no intention of marrying ever? He wasn’t a man to be trusted with anyone else’s life and certainly not this gentle lady’s. He notched his chin down to give her a level stare. “I will not end up like Max, Rex, and Si.”

  She blinked and then her mouth fell open as understanding widened her eyes. “You can’t think that if we kissed we’d end up married?” She shook her head, a small humorless laugh escaping her lips.

  He narrowed his gaze even as he clenched his fists under his arms. “You can not even entertain the possibility that we might marry?” He wasn’t used to women openly rejecting him like this. There weren’t a great many things he was good at in life. He was terrible at numbers. He’d struggled to read his entire life, the words danced on the page. But women…women he knew. Understood. Her dismissal was annoyingly intriguing, and he studied her face to determine why. Her lush lips, pressed together, thinning.

  “Gads no.” She held her fingers to her cheeks. “I could never be with a man who drank the way you do. It’s…unbecoming.”

  Key stared at her, while his guts spilled out on the floor. Not literally of course. When had a woman’s rejection ever stung this much? Then again, when had a woman ever seen so completely through his façade and exposed his soft underbelly? Victoria already knew he wasn’t worth anything other than a good night’s drinking. He was next to useless. “Are you always so blunt? I find that rather unbecoming as well.”

  He saw the momentary shift where her features pinched and her shoulders hunched before her face returned to a blank mask. “Then we are back to where we started. We find the other lacking. Good. No kissing for us and certainly nothing more.”

  “Good,” he repeated, frowning. He was done with Victoria Ducat, a fact that should be good. He didn’t want to be swept away by any Ducat and certainly not this one, with her shrewd stare and her sweet lips. Even when drunk, women fell at his feet. They didn’t tell him he wasn’t good enough ever. His family was another matter entirely but not women whom he wooed. They worshipped him. He supposed that explained why he wanted to grab her and kiss her right now.

  Chapter Two

  Key arrived at his town home a few hours later. He tossed himself in a chair and looked about him. The place was quiet, hardly a sound filled its dark interior, which added to his ill feeling.

  He needed to lift himself out of this mood that had settled over him and he wondered if he should take a bath or pour a drink. The drink won and he filled his glass to the top with his strongest whisky. Lifting the glass, he made to bring it to his lips, but instead he found himself staring into the depths of its amber color.

  It was a lovely shade. He would bet that Lady Victoria Ducat didn’t understand the joy staring into its amber color could bring. Then again, she likely did. She seemed to know everything else. Too bloody smart for her own good. Well, actually, she was too smart for his. But perhaps she didn’t understand the mind-numbing bliss that came with alcohol. It allowed one to forget his failures, his mistakes such as allowing his brother to die or the fact that his mother hated him.

  “That is a lot of staring. Whisky’s best drank,” Chase called from the door of his study before he sauntered over and grabbed a glass, pouring himself a full drink and sliding into the chair across from Key. He wasn’t surprised his friend had just sauntered into his home. Chase held little regard for most rules. He gave his friend a nod, then he downed the drink in a single swallow. “I saw you, you know.”

  “Saw me doing what?” Key asked, setting his glass on the table next to his chair.

  Chase wrinkled up his nose as though he’d smelled something awful. “Talking with her.” He slashed his hand through the air before he stood and walked back over to the decanter.

  At the mention of Victoria, Key had that same feeling of every muscle tightening. “The little chit told me that she considered kissing me just to fulfill the bet but she found me too lacking to go through with it.” Couldn’t say he blamed her.

  Chase snorted. “That bluestocking finds you lacking?” Then he swallowed another snifter of whisky. “It couldn’t have been as bad as the way Adelaide treated me. The brat was openly hostile. Like I wouldn’t be doing her a favor.”

  Key’s lips curved upward. “At least we both know there will be no kissing and the bet is dead. That’s a relief.”

  Chase tossed himself back in the leather chair. Key raised a brow. He’d come home seeking solitude and Chase was getting awfully comfortable. In Chase’s defense, Key was the one who had changed. More often, lately, he wanted quiet.

  Chase took another large swallow. “Speak for yourself. I am going to kiss Adelaide until she begs me to kiss her again.”

  Key waved his hand, stepping forward. “You can’t be serious. What about the bet and the gypsy’s remark about the Ducats being our fate? If you kiss her, you could end up married to her.”

  Chase rubbed his temples. “You underestimate my complete lack of moral fortitude. Can you honestly picture me married?”

  Key slowly shook his head back and forth. “I can’t.”

  “See. The only one of us who is getting a lesson is Adelaide. She needs to learn that a little debutante should never spar with a rake. She doesn’t know what’s coming.”

  Key raised his brows. “I am not questioning you but I beg you to learn a little more about her before you make any decisions. I swear, Victoria knows exactly who I am. She saw through me in a second and she knows that I am not worth—”

  “Blah blah,” Chase interrupted. “She doesn’t know you. You’re being ridiculous and you’ve allowed this bet to get into your head and it’s ruining your normally calm demeanor. The Earl of Kissinger drinks a lot. Then he goes to parties and he finds an eligible woman and he beds her. He doesn’t worry about bluestockings or Gypsies, unless of course it’s to ask what they might look like under their skirts.”

  Key picked up his whisky again. Chase was right. Sure he was hated by his family, a failure in his education, but he was good at bedding women. What he needed was to stop dwelling on what he was lacking. “Cheers then,” he brought the glass to his lips and took a healthy swallow. Tonight, he’d forget all about Victoria Ducat.

  Victoria hugged her sister one more time as they stood on the front stoop. Si and Cristina were going to spend some much needed time alone to celebrate the beginning of their new marriage.

  Lily and Max along with Adelaide stood behind her. “They deserve a little time, but I hate to see them go,” Max rumbled. “At least Rex and Camille will return in a week.”

  Victoria looked back at him. “Thank you for taking care of us, Max.” She glanced to the door, wondering what her father was doing at this moment. She’d left him in the sitting room with a book, though he’d clearly not been reading. “I know it’s a difficult job.”

  Max g
ave her a small wink. “I’m happy to do it.”

  The carriage began to pull away, and Victoria turned back toward the house. “We should go check on Papa.”

  Lily took her hand as they began to walk inside. “You’re doing a marvelous job, Vic, but honestly, don’t you think that we should hire someone to help you at the very least? As his condition worsens, I fear he will need someone with him all the time. It can’t always be you. It’s not fair.”

  They stepped into the foyer, and Victoria looked into the sitting room, relieved to see her father still there. He sat quietly, staring off into space, a cup of tea in his hand. He didn’t look confused today, only pensive, his features set in tight lines.

  “It shouldn’t be you at all,” Max rumbled. “You are supposed to have your first season this year. You should be getting married.”

  Victoria clicked her tongue. “And leave you and Lily to manage Papa on your own? I don’t think so. And I don’t know about hiring people. What if they turn him in? Most don’t consider what he has a disease. They think it’s dangerous. He could end up in prison.”

  Lily tugged on her hand. “Listen. We’ll take care of him together. Hire staff, each take a day or two to come here and stay with father. Together we can divide up the tasks so that you don’t have to sacrifice your future.”

  Was she? She shrugged as she studied a knot in the hardwood floor. “Who knows if I’ll even marry? Men don’t respond to me the way they do you, Lil.”