Page 32 of How to Ruin a Rake

She turned fully to face him and smiled. “You certainly didn’t do that. I suppose I just wanted to know how it would feel to kiss a notorious rake.”

“And?”

“As I said, it was no different to kissing Tom Harvey under the mistletoe at the Rossiter’s Christmas ball.” She patted his knee. “But thank you for the experience.”

Allegra attempted a few remarks about the scenery as they drove through a scattering of villages and vast fields filled with crops and vegetables, but Max wasn’t in a very talkative mood. She suspected his pride was hurt, but that was hardly her fault. She only answered his questions with her usual honesty.

But was that strictly true? She had enjoyed kissing him rather a lot. He hadn’t been sloppy, nor had he missed his target completely or been drunk and leering at her. But the last thing she wanted to do was make him think she liked his attentions, because he was the last person on earth she wished to attract.

It was distinctly annoying that she would quite happily kiss him all day long, but wasn’t that why he was a rake—because he made women behave in such a way? She glanced at his stern profile, with his ridiculously long eyelashes and the hint of a dimple in his cheek. It wasn’t fair.

But as she always told herself, life wasn’t fair, and she’d just have to get on with it.

CHAPTER 6

Max was minding his own business and counting down the minutes until they reached their next destination when Lady Allegra elbowed him in the side.

“Stop!”

Somewhat startled, he did as she asked, and she scrambled down from the gig unaided, picked up her skirts, and ran toward one of the fields.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Max called after her.

She, of course, ignored him and knelt down in the mud. Max drew the gig over to the side of the road, told the horse to stay, and went to join her.

“It’s stuck,” Lady Allegra said.

Max leaned in to see what she was referring to and realized she was struggling to untangle a small dog from the bramble hedge.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine if you just leave him be,” Max said.

“Do you have a pocketknife?”

Sighing, Max got it out for her. “You’re getting terribly scratched.”

“That’s because I’m doing something useful rather than standing around making stupid remarks!” Lady Allegra took the knife and started cutting through some of the prickly strands. “His fur is caught up, and as he’s struggled to get free, he’s made it worse.”

“Wait.” Max knelt down in the mud beside her. “Why don’t you hold the dog still while I do the cutting.”

“Thank you.” Lady Allegra murmured to the terrified dog. “Uncle Max will make everything right, little one. You’ll be out in a jiffy.”

As soon as the last bramble was cut away, the small brown-and-white dog leapt into Lady Allegra’s arms and clung to her, trembling. Max put away his knife and helped her stand up.

“I wonder where the dog lives?” She looked around and pointed farther up the road. “There’s a farm there. Shall we go and inquire?”

“If you put the blasted dog down, he’ll probably run home,” Max pointed out, but true to form, she ignored him.

“I’ll walk there while you retrieve the gig.” Lady Allegra set off, her expression determined.

Yet again, Max meekly did as he was told. He drove the gig into the farmyard and got down just as Lady Allegra arrived. There was no sign of anyone, but that didn’t deter his companion.

“Hello?” she called out, and started to walk toward the house.

“Stand back!” There was a shout from the barn opposite the house, and a figure stepped out pointing an ancient blunderbuss at them.

As the gun went off, Max threw himself toward Lady Allegra and brought her down to the ground. His ears were ringing, the dog was barking, and someone was emerging from the farmhouse screaming.

“Good lord almighty!” cried the older woman as she rushed toward them. “What’s that daft old man gone and done now?” She turned to the barn. “Granddad, what are you doing with that old thing? You’ll hurt someone.”