How to Ruin a Rake

Book 2: Rakes of London

by Kate Pearce

Genres: Regency Romance; Historical Fiction; Historical Romance

Synopsis

Turning the conventions of Regency London upside down, a single lady desires a carefree, no-strings-attached dalliance with a devilish rogue in this spicy, irresistibly sensual new romance from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kate Pearce.

But is her all-wrong scoundrel actually her Mr. Right?

Lady Allegra Musgrove has resigned herself to never marrying. Creating a scandal worked out well for her sister, Carenza, now happily wed after advertising for a no-strings-attached arrangement with a willing gentleman from the ton. But the fallout has landed squarely on poor Allegra, who is ordered to leave London for her family home in the countryside.

Sometimes, though, fate comes knocking—or, in Allegra’s case, a rake who abducts her as part of a men’s club drunken wager!

Furious, Allegra quickly takes charge when their speeding carriage overturns and her masked captor is revealed: Lord Max Devereux, a notorious ne’er-do-well who pays his way out of trouble and beds women with impunity.

Suddenly sober, Max wants to forget the whole debacle and return Allegra to the city. Obviously, Allegra is aware that there could be no one worse to be stuck with in the middle of nowhere than such a rake, especially one so . . . experienced. Or . . . could there be no one better?

Release date: September 29, 2026

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Lady Allegra Musgrove gazed out over one of Hyde Park’s vistas and swallowed hard. She was trying to be brave about the disastrous events of the past few weeks, but she wasn’t the kind of person to hide from the truth. Her marital prospects were in ruins, society had turned its back on her, and the only thing left to do was retire to the countryside with what was left of the shattered remains of her dignity and reputation.

“But it’s not fair,” Allegra muttered to herself. “I have done nothing wrong!”

The trouble had started years ago when her aristocratic father had met and fallen in love with a famous Italian opera singer. That, in itself, was unremarkable, but marrying such a woman was apparently beyond the pale. Her parents were ostracized by society and their children barely tolerated. And now Carenza, Allegra’s older sister, had caused another scandal by advertising for a lover in the newspapers and then blatantly admitting to it at a charity ball attended by the whole ton.

All of this meant that Allegra, who had never set a foot wrong in fear of being seen as undesirable, was now considered an object of pity, and an unmarriageable one at that. Her latest suitor had recently been seen escorting another young lady around town, and he hadn’t bothered to speak to Allegra since the awful night of the charity ball. To be fair, Allegra didn’t care about losing that particular suitor, because any so-called gentleman who wasn’t prepared to stand by her was not worth it. But she’d had hopes, and now they were dashed.

She took one more look at the picturesque groups of trees where her dog Jester loved to roam and turned back to the walking path. Dusk was falling, and she was out alone—something even her mother wouldn’t have approved of. Most of the staff at the townhouse, including her dog and her maid, had left with the carrier for her parents’ house in Norfolk that morning. Allegra was expecting the family carriage to bear her off to their country home—and a solitary future—at any moment.

Would she ever return to London? She sighed. She’d miss the concerts, the theater, and the opportunity to do some good in the world. She wouldn’t miss the people. If she was honest, she knew she’d only been tolerated for her potential to shock or amuse. Nothing she and Carenza had ever done had been enough.

She approached the house in Tavistock Square and went down the basement steps to the back door, where she found the key under the mat. After unlocking the door, she went through to the kitchen. As most of the staff had already left, the space was deserted, the range left to go out, and quiet had replaced the usual cheerful hustle and bustle. A caretaker would stay on to keep an eye on things while the family were away, but Allegra wasn’t certain the family would ever come back to this house. Her father didn’t care to expose his wife to a society who treated her disrespectfully.

Allegra went up the back stairs to her bedroom to retrieve her largest reticule, which contained several interesting books, her latest needlework project, and some coin to see her through her journey in case the aged coachman needed to stop to rest the horses. A strange sense of hopelessness filled her as she contemplated a vastly restricted life under her uptight brother’s eye.

With a shake of her head, she attempted to throw off her gloom. She would have time to pursue her interests without worrying about what the ton thought of her. She would not need a maid following her around when she took her morning walks with Jester. She would have delightful conversations and musical evenings with her mother.

The sound of a carriage arriving outside the house had her hurrying down the stairs. Her bags were stacked ready in the hall, and all she had to do was leave, possibly forever. There was no sign of Tom the caretaker, but the front door was not locked up for the night, so she let herself out, her reticule in her hand. It had started to rain, and the sky had darkened considerably as she came down the steps, her gaze directed downward to prevent herself from slipping.

A hand closed around her arm, and she looked up into the masked face of an unknown man.

He grinned at her. “Hello, darling girl.”

She tried to pull away, but he simply laughed, picked her up, and tossed her into the carriage before climbing in after her and closing the door. The horses moved off with great speed.

After righting herself with some difficulty, Allegra turned to face him. “How dare you! Let me out immediately!”

His smile didn’t change. “Settle down, sweetheart. You’ll come to no harm.”

She scrambled for the door handle, and his fingers closed around her wrist. She experienced a sudden stab of terror and her heart thumped in her chest.

“Don’t be silly. We’re moving quite fast. If you attempt to leave, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself? Stop this carriage!”

“I do apologize, but I can’t do that.” He held her gaze. “I need the money.”

“I’ll give you money! Just let me out!”

He winced. “Please settle down, you’re giving me a terrible headache.”

“You stink of alcohol.”

“That’s hardly surprising when I’ve been at my club.”

“Then go back there, drink yourself senseless, and leave me alone.” Allegra tried to iron the trembling from her voice. Her father had always told her that standing up to bullies required courage. “You have no right to abduct me.”

“Calm down. I’m not doing anything of the sort. It’s just a small wager. I’ll have you back home before you even know it.”

“You will take me back home now!”

“I’ll take you home when I’ve won my wager. Now, be a good girl and be quiet.”

Allegra grabbed hold of her reticule and placed it on the seat beside her. Holding the infuriating man’s gaze, she extracted the very large book of improving sermons she’d brought to read and held it up in her hand.

“Stop this carriage,” she demanded. “Or I’ll—”

He laughed. “Go ahead. You probably couldn’t hit a pig in a poke.”

Even as the words left his mouth, the book was in the air. It hit him hard on the head, and he slumped down onto the seat like he’d been shot.

Allegra allowed herself a small smile of triumph and then studied him more closely. “Sir?”

She swallowed hard. Her aim had been true, but it appeared her victory came at a cost. Her abductor was unconscious, and his ability to turn the carriage around was now nonexistent. She had a sense that even if she attempted to gain the driver’s attention, her pleas would fail to move him.

“Fool,” she whispered to herself. “Now what are you going to do?”

As time went by, apart from regularly checking her abductor’s breathing to make sure she hadn’t killed him, and admiring the large goose egg–sized bruise on his temple, Allegra had little to do except worry about exactly how her journey would end. If it was supposed to be a jaunt around town, then it surely had encompassed every street in the capital by now? It was too dark to see much out of the windows, but she was disturbed by the lack of lights. She gasped as the carriage shifted suddenly to the left, the springs compacting to keep it upright, and held on tight to the leather strap.

The faint sound of whooping filtered down into the carriage, and her mouth went dry. She’d seen how some of the young rakes liked to drive and was convinced there wasn’t a professional attending to the horses. She struggled to let down the window and angled her head to look up, only to scream and recoil as they passed a farm cart on the wrong side of the road, a finger’s breadth from her nose.

She steadied her breathing and looked out again.

“Please stop!” she yelled in a most unladylike manner. “This is madness!”

She was met with a hunting cry and an increase in pace that made her fear for her life. Hanging onto the strap to stop herself from falling, she watched as her senseless companion slid onto the floor in a most awkward fashion and stayed there, breathing noisily.

With a muttered curse, she went down onto her knees and attempted to sort his splayed limbs into some kind of order.

“Sir!” She shook him none too gently. “You must wake up. We are in danger.”

There was no response. She was just about to try again when the carriage floor buckled like a horse trying to unseat its rider and both she and the man were flung to one side. There was an ominous groan as the door flew open, and the carriage hit the hedged road and fell partially into what Allegra could only assume was a ditch.

Entangled together by his long limbs and her skirts, they rolled out through the door onto the verge just before the carriage tipped over completely and was dragged forward by the plunging horses in mad panicked leaps. It was dark, and Allegra struggled to find her bearings as the man beneath her groaned, muttered something unintelligible, and went straight back to sleep. It took Allegra a few moments to steady her breathing. Using all her strength, she pushed free of him and stood up, rocking on her heels to survey the carnage.

There was no sign of the driver, and the horses had stopped trying to pull the wrecked carriage but were obviously panicked, rearing and snorting within the tangled reins and traces. With little thought for her own safety, Allegra moved on instinct and ran toward them. She slowed as she approached, one hand outstretched, and fought for a calm tone as she reached for the bridle of one of the bucking horses.

“It’s all right, I’ve got you.” Her arm was nearly wrenched out of its socket as the horse reared up, his forelegs close to her face. “It’s all right.”

On its way down, a hoof struck a glancing blow to her shoulder, but the horse didn’t rear again and began to settle. Allegra winced in pain as she began the job of releasing him from the wreck of the carriage.

“Well done,” she said, and smoothed her trembling fingers over the horse’s face, checking that the bit and bridle were still serviceable. “You’ll be fine now.”

She turned her attention to the second horse, which had already quietened considerably, and freed it from the tangled mass of reins.

“There you are, my beauty, all safe now.”

The bay nuzzled her throat, and for a moment tears threatened at the gentle touch. Grabbing both bridles, she led the horses away from the wreckage and over to where she’d left the man who’d abducted her. He lay on his back, oblivious to the world, snoring slightly through his open mouth. Allegra barely resisted the urge to kick him as the enormity of the situation threatened to overwhelm her. She was on a narrow country road with high hedges that obscured almost everything around her. The driver of the carriage might be lurking, waiting to abduct her, and her kidnapper was of no help at all.

Should she go in search of the driver? She shivered as a sharp breeze cut through the thinness of her traveling dress under her sensible cloak. The light was fading fast, and her first priority should be to find shelter for herself and the horses. She looked ahead of her, but there were no friendly lights on the horizon, no inn with an obliging innkeeper, no well-kept cottage or farm to welcome her.

She found her reticule farther along the ditch and unearthed a knitted scarf that would suffice to lead the horses with. She went back to the man and knelt beside him on the ground.

“Sir, you need to get up. You cannot stay here. It isn’t safe.” There was a faint groan and she shook him harder. “Wake up!”

Something in her tone must have registered, because his eyes fluttered behind his mask, and his gaze suddenly fastened on her.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Allegra set her jaw. “That is quite irrelevant. We are in the middle of a country road, the carriage is damaged beyond repair, and we have to get these horses into shelter before it starts to rain.”

“Horses …” He attempted to sit up, and Allegra assisted him. “Why am I wearing a damn mask?”

“To assist with my abduction?” Allegra asked sweetly. “Because I don’t know what game you’re playing, but when I find out who you are, I can assure you that your life won’t be worth living.”

“Then why don’t you leave me here?”

“Because I need your assistance with the horses. Can you stand?”

He managed it, but swayed like a willow tree in a breeze, what she could see of his face a ghastly white in the gloom.

“Is your friend likely to return, sir?” Allegra asked.

He blinked at her. “What friend?”

“The man who drove the carriage.”

“How the devil would I know?”

Allegra sucked in a breath and led him over to the horses and placed his hand on one of the bridles.

“Hold on to this.”

She returned to pick up her reticule and used the broken leather traces on the horse’s back to tie it securely to the horse she intended to lead.

“We didn’t pass any villages recently, so I think our best course is to keep going forward and hope we come to a farm or hamlet soon,” Allegra said. She turned to her companion, who was now leaning against the horse, his face buried in the mane. “Are you able to walk?”

“Not sure,” came the muffled reply. “Must’ve hit my head at some point.”

Allegra suppressed a slight surge of guilt. “Would you prefer to ride if I lead the horse?”

“Not sure I can get up there.”

Allegra looked around, spotted a milestone, and led both the horses over to it. Her shoulder was hurting, and she had to keep swallowing back tears, but she was determined not to give in to hopelessness.

“Come on.” She nudged her companion. “Climb on the stone and hoist yourself up.”

It took him several attempts, but with her help, he eventually managed it and grabbed fistfuls of the horse’s mane to hold onto. Allegra attempted to attach the second horse’s bridle to the first’s with her wooly scarf.

“Hold on, sir.”

Another groan rent the air. Ignoring him, she stared ahead into the gathering gloom. There was nowhere else to go but forward and no help available but her own wits. Biting her lip, she started walking, hoping against hope that they’d reach a village with a smithy or an inn before it got too dark to proceed any further.

A few minutes later, Allegra caught a glint of light to the left of the road, indicating there might be some kind of building ahead. She immediately began looking for a lane or passageway that might lead them to it. Her shoulder hurt, her head hurt—in truth, everything hurt—and it was all the fault of the damnable gentleman slumped over the back of the horse. As she turned off the road, she amused herself by imagining the grisliest ending possible for the fool who’d dared to abduct her.

She almost stumbled on the rutted, muddy track that led toward what looked like a barn. A light drizzle settled on the surface of her cloak, and she knew they had to take whatever shelter appeared, regardless of its cleanliness. Her fingers fumbled with the five-bar gate leading into what appeared to be a farmstead, but she managed to get through and led the horses into the stone-walled space.

Allegra blinked, trying to see details of the barn in front of her. To her relief, there didn’t appear to be any animals housed within, which, as the structure was open to the elements, made sense. There were bales of hay stacked against the back wall, and she led the horses over toward them.

“You may get down, sir.” Her voice was shaking with tiredness as she prodded her unwelcome companion on the thigh. “I’ll spread out some hay for the horses and for us to sleep on.”

He muttered something unintelligible and, after watching her spread the hay, slid inelegantly off the back of the horse and onto the ground, where he immediately started snoring again. Allegra took care of the horses and made herself a bed of hay as far away from her companion as possible.

She sat with her back to one of the bales, her cloak tightly clasped around her, and stared out into the blackness topped by an intricate pattern of stars. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do next, and that was frightening. What would her family think when she wasn’t at the house when they came to collect her? Would they raise an alarm?

A terrifying thought gripped her. What if no family member came with the coach? If it was just a driver come to fetch her, how long would he wait for her before leaving? How many days would it be before her family realized she was actually missing?

A shudder of tiredness ran through her, and she clenched her jaw. She couldn’t give up. In the morning, she’d find the farmer, explain the situation, and ask for his assistance. Surely any reasonable man would recognize her plight and do the right thing? She glanced over at the shadowy lump in the shelter of the hay bales. What her abductor chose to do was entirely up to him. His choices wouldn’t matter, because once she discovered who he was, she’d make it her life mission to ruin him.

Something was tickling him … ​and not in the way he preferred to be tickled. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew this was not the amorous caress of his mistress’s hair on his thighs as she prepared to take his cock in her mouth.

In fact, he felt damned uncomfortable all around. Lord Max Devereux opened one eye and swiftly closed it again. Bright sunlight was streaming in through an aperture that was definitely not part of his rooms in Albany.

He cautiously inhaled and experienced the full richness of the countryside in all its glorious potency. Was he at Barfleur Hall? He rather thought he’d been forbidden to visit since his last argument with his father.

This had to be a dream, then. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself back to sleep, only to be woken by violent shouting and someone prodding him with what appeared to be a pitchfork.

He yelped and held up his hands. “Wait! Let me stand!”

His attacker, who appeared to be a stocky man with the surly expression of a prize bulldog, took a step back, the pitchfork still raised threateningly at Max’s face.

“Get out of my hay!”

“I’d be delighted to do so, sir,” Max said. “And I am more than happy to recompense you for any damage I might inadvertently have caused.”

The bulldog’s scowl eased slightly. “I should bloody well hope so. I don’t stand for gentlefolk turning up in my barn in the middle of the night with never a by-your-leave.”

“I can only apologize,” Max said, although he had no idea how or why he’d ended up in the man’s barn in the first place. “It was most remiss of me.”

Perhaps some of his friends had played a trick on him, got him drunk, and dumped him somewhere in the countryside. It was just the sort of thing his friend Landon would find hilarious and that Max was beginning to think juvenile and tiresome.

“As I said, I’m happy to pay for any damage.” Max put his hand in his coat pocket, and it came out empty. He tried his other pocket with a rising sense of panic. Had his so-called friends left him with nothing? “I—”

“Your sister’s already taken care of it, sir,” the farmer said.

“My sister?” Max had a vague sense that he should know more about this person who definitely didn’t exist, but in the moment, the information eluded him.

“She’s up at the farmhouse having breakfast with my wife.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps we might join her?” Max suggested.

“She said there had been an accident with your carriage and that she’d had to uncouple the horses and bring them to safety,” the farmer said, as he led the way out of what turned out to be a substantial medieval barn, complete with arrow slits.

“Yes! That’s what happened.” Max grasped the idea with alacrity. “I must have hit my head.”

“So she said.”

The farmer led the way up to the top of a hill. Below, a slate-roofed, whitewashed farmhouse sat tranquilly beside a large kitchen garden. Smoke came out of the chimney and, as they approached, the appetizing smell of cooked bacon drifted from the open kitchen door. Max’s stomach rumbled.

“I reckon you’ll be hungry,” the farmer said as he followed Max into the kitchen.

“I am, Mr…?” Max looked inquiringly at the man.

“Lacock, and this is my wife, Mrs. Lacock.”

“A pleasure.” Max bowed at the woman standing at the stove.

“Sir.” She bobbed a curtsy, looking rather thrilled by what must be unusual activity. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

Max sat down at the table, his gaze moving to the female already seated there. She regarded him with distinct disapproval. She had brown hair, gray eyes, and a perfectly average face and figure—the kind of woman he’d never usually bother to look at for longer than it took to pass her by. She also looked as if she’d slept in a barn. A vague alarm flickered in his memory as he focused on her rather prominent nose.

“Good morning, brother,” she said. “How is your headache today?”

“Terrible. How’s yours?”

“I was too busy dealing with the mayhem to allow myself to have a headache, sir. I left that luxury to you.”

“It’s hardly my fault I got knocked out, is it?”

Mrs. Lacock put a cup of well-brewed tea at his elbow, and he thanked her.

“You seem to have managed well enough.”

Despite being distracted by the sizzling pile of gammon and eggs placed in front of him, Max thought he could hear her teeth grinding. She had quite a ferocious stare and the upper-class accent of a lady, which begged all kinds of interesting questions as to how they’d ended up together.

Mr. Lacock announced he was going back to work and that he would feed their horses. Mrs. Lacock said she needed to attend to the chickens and left Max alone with his female companion. He had to imagine that his friends had played a joke on him and that this woman, whoever she was, was involved.

“Look,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but—”

“You don’t know whom you abducted?” Her eyebrows went up.

He hesitated as an unpleasant memory wiggled into his mind—her furious face as he took her arm and bundled her into his carriage.

“Hold on.” He tried desperately to remember. “There was a wager …” He frowned. “But you’re not who I thought you were.”

“I am well aware of that, sir.” She raised her chin, her gaze fulminating.

“Then why in damnation are you here?”

If ladies had been able to breathe fire, Max truly believed he would’ve been incinerated.

“Why am I here? You abducted me!” Her voice rose on every word, which did nothing for his headache.

“You were supposed to be someone else.”

“I suppose you expect me to apologize for being the wrong person, don’t you?”

“Well, you have to admit that it isn’t very helpful.”

“Helpful?” She rose to her feet, her hands clenched into fists. “You took me from my own front doorstop, told me to calm down, and then proceeded to let a lunatic drive your carriage right into a ditch in the middle of nowhere!”

He winced and pressed his fingers to his temple. “If you could just speak more quietly, I’d—”

“You are a rake, a scoundrel, and a drunkard, and I will never forgive you for landing me in this mess.” She came around the table and stood over him, visibly shaking.

“Never is a long time,” Max offered weakly. “Surely we can come to some agreement …”

“Oh, we will be doing that, Max Devereux. . .