The Rake Revealed by Kate Harper

Camille had been thinking of calling, but she had also been putting it off. There was so much to do at the Hall and she was just a little worried that she might encounter Lord Tapscott.
    ‘It most certainly is, but, oh, my dear, it is a pleasure. I could not help but wonder how you were getting on,’ Mrs. Harkness assured her. ‘I had not realized that Amelia was coming as well.’ She shot Lady Fallston a faintly malicious look. ‘You seemed rather poorly when I saw you in Kingsdown yesterday. I thought you would be resting today. Have you quite recovered, my dear?’
    Lady Fallston went pink. ‘Quite recovered, thank you Letitia. I… I was feeling faint.’
    ‘The sun was quite strong,’ Mrs. Harkness said thoughtfully, ‘and you did seem to be hurrying along. Did you actually manage to catch up with Lord Tapscott?’
    Lady Fallston’s pink deepened to an almost painful red. ‘I do not know what you mean.’
    ‘Oh? I thought I saw you trying to have a word with his lordship. I am sure it was him.’ Mrs. Harkness gave Camille a smile. ‘He has such a distinctive figure, don’t you think?’
    Lord Tapscott again. Camille felt deeply sorry for Lady Fallston. She recalled that her maid Gillie had said that the lady had a partiality for the handsome rake and clearly it was common knowledge. Just as clearly, Mrs. Harkness was determined to make hay out of whatever she had seen the day before, which seemed a little cruel. It was quite usual for a middle-aged lady in France to have a affaires with gentlemen, be they younger or older. It was almost expected of them, but things were a little different in England. His lordship had obviously made quite an impression on a great many ladies. Camille wondered if he was having a dalliance with Lady Fallston and if she fancied herself in love with him.
    She gave the woman a warm smile. ‘Well I am very glad you were well enough to call on me.’
    A tea tray arrived and polite small talk commenced. It did not take long for Camille to discover that Letitia Harkness and Amelia Fallston cordially loathed each other. It came out in any number of ways, all of them sly and, more often than not, politely vicious. Compliments that were not compliments at all, devious digs about secrets and indiscretions that lay in the past. After a time, Camille gave up trying to smooth over the conversational waters and sat back to listen, almost in wonder. Clearly the two ladies had known each other for many years for their vast repository of mutual antipathy indicated a long history. Under other circumstances, Camille might have found the situation uncomfortable, but there was something fascinating about listening to her two guests fling poisonous barbs at each other. Another aspect of English life that I am unfamiliar with , she reflected with an inward shake of the head. It seemed she had spent too long living a vagrant life on the heels of her husband and polite society had passed her by in France, making her miss the finer nuances. She really had a great deal to learn.
    Just when it felt that things could not get any more uncomfortable, Gillie came into the room and met her mistress’s eye. Camille swore that the girl looked positively agog with delight. ‘Lord Tapscott,’ she announced, just a little breathlessly.
    Camille wanted to fling her hands in the air and protest at the injustice of it. Of all the inconsiderate things he had done – turn up bleeding in her drawing room, kiss her – this was possibly the worst. The man’s timing was masterful. He entered the room, smile firmly in place as he surveyed the occupants.
    ‘Well now,’ he drawled, ‘how very pleasant.’
    Lady Fallston blushed, Mrs. Harkness simpered, and Camille sighed, realizing that she would now have to listen to two mature matrons vie for the new arrival's attention. It hardly seemed fair.
    All three ladies rose and he bowed over each of their hands in turn, the perfect gentleman. No matter how it might look,