Sybrina ripped her bonnet off and tossed it on her bed. She studied how the beautiful dress, blue like a robin's egg, clung to her voluptuous figure, as she undid her afternoon gown.

At least the one saving grace of her father, when she lived with him, was the extravagant purse string he allowed her, to buy the latest fashionable gowns New Bond Street had on offer. She removed the silk under garments and washed her face and neck and upper body with the basin of cold water and hurriedly slipped into her evening shift, before she froze to death. Hot water was a luxury she took for granted in her father's mansion. Here at the orphanage she did not expect luxuries and received none.

Sybrina pressed on the knocker, and the door was immediately opened by a footman. She duly handed her calling card, and waited to be announced. If the footman frowned upon the young unescorted lady visitor, he was too well trained to allow his facial expressions to show evidence thereof.

'Sybrina!'

'Baroness DuPont,' Sybrina greeted politely.

'Thank you Francine. We will have tea in the ladies withdrawing room please,' Baroness DuPont requested.

'Sybrina it's always such a pleasure to see you,' she hugged her warmly.

'Thank you Baroness__'

'Sy it's not fair you insist I call you by your given name, I demand the same!'

'Ok Claudia, thank you for accepting my request,' Sybrina laughed.

'How are you doing?' Claudia clasped her hands into her friend's. 'Have you gone back home?' she asked with concern.

'No.' Sybrina spat out defiantly.

'Sy, the orphanage is no place for you, you will waste away there__'

'Would you rather I be married off to a senile old man that prefers the company of his bottle of whisky than his wife?'

'Surely it can't be that bad.'

'Not every girl is blessed to have a wonderful doting husband like you. Let's talk about something else please,' Sybrina requested, as the maid entered with refreshments.

'Thank you Francine,' Claudia accepted the tray.

'You obviously have something on your mind,' Claudia prompted, as the maid departed.

'Yes. I need you to speak to your charming husband to lobby for some funds to mend the gutters at the orphanage.'

'Oh you know Ralph adores you, and won't say no to your request,' Claudia grinned.

'I don't know, perhaps he can discreetly garner some support from his friends who frequent at Almack's. I think the costs could be astronomical.'

'Sy,' Claudia's eyes sparkled, like she had a bee in her bonnet. 'I'm having afternoon tea on Thursday with the Dowager Chauncey. She always likes to be seen doing charitable deeds.'

'Gertrude Chauncey , Countess of Cavendish ?'

The Rake's Mother!

'The one and only,' Claudia laughed, 'I know she has that bad habit of rudely surveying every female with such critical thoroughness, suspecting every girl wants to become betrothed to her very eligible heir.'

'And don't they?' Sybrina retaliated.

'Do you?'

'I__I've never met him,' Sybrina mumbled.

'We can remedy that on Thursday,' she teased conspiratorially

'No!' Sybrina rejected, raising Claudia's suspicions.

'Well, what I mean, 'Sybrina swallowed convulsively, 'I don't wish to answer any questions about myself.'

'Fine. Use your mother's maiden name if you must. Say you live at the orphanage. Just take her money,' Claudia laughed.

You mean the Rake of Cavendish's money!

On Thursday morning, Sybrina nervously prepared for her visit to the Dowager Chauncey. There were still many hours to the afternoon, but she was working herself up to a tension headache. When Claudia's curricle stopped outside the orphanage, she was half relieved for the company, and half nervous.

'Wow this castle is amazingly beautiful,' Sybrina whispered.

'The Earl is rolling in the money. His cattle, sheep, and poultry farming is booming with trade, and not to forget he's had bumper crops for the last three years,' Claudia reeled off.

'So he's quite wealthy then?'

'Enough to buy your orphanage ten times over I think,' she laughed.

'It's beautifully maintained,' Sybrina observed the well cared for structure of the castle, the lush healthy lawns, and beautifully trimmed fruit and shade providing trees. The picturesque lake had geese and swan frolicking about under the warm sun. The footman opened the curricle. The ladies stepped out, stretched their legs after the hour's journey, and when Claudia sounded the knocker, the door was instantly opened, as they were expected.

Claudia and the Dowager exchanged pleasantries and when Sybrina was introduced, it did not go unobserved, how the dowager, stared down at her, scrutinizing her gown, for Sybrina had deliberately dressed down in cotton lavender coloured work clothes. They were not old or unkempt, just not high fashion befitting somebody who visited the Countess of Cavendish's Castle.

Though Sybrina mentally prepared herself for the inevitable, she was breathless and dumbstruck, when the earl of Cavendish walked into the sunshine parlour to have words with his mother.

'Lady Claudia! What a pleasant surprise,' the rake smiled charmingly, and embraced Claudia affectionately. 'You look beautiful as always,' his warm eyes held hers.

'Flatterer!' she scolded him. 'My husband says to remind you he wants a rematch, after the last chess game you beat him at.'

'He's on,' the Earl laughed throatily, ' Tell Ralph to name the time and place.'

'Lord Chauncey, I'd like you to meet my dear friend Sybrina. Sybrina, meet Alexander Chauncey, Earl of Cavendish. We've come to discuss some charity business with your mamma Alexander.'

Gold flecks tinged around his hazel eyes. They looked amused, teasing, as if some joke was at her expense. She did not realize how broad his shoulders were, they blocked off everything behind him.And that scar was so much more tempting to touch up close.

'My Lord,' Sybrina offered nervously.

'A first name only, no last name then?'

Usually women were falling over themselves to give him their names , addresses, and life stories.

Sybrina's eyes gazed into his face. Up close the cheekbones looked harder, jaw line more square, a rough stubble emphasized that roguish look.

The air seemed to swell and tickle her flesh, heat blazed in her stomach, her skin tightened.

She felt the fine prickles of hair stand up on her nape. Drat, if she thought he was a handsome Rake from afar, he sucked her breath away when she was a hairs breath from him, as she fixed her eyes on the well defined brows, thin aristocratic nose, and sensual mouth that was made for __.

He's a Rake, remember that!

Sybrina moved away from him, and reluctantly offered her mother's maiden name.

'It's Trevick,' she spoke softly. Her eyes reaching across to Claudia, who was curiously watching the exchange between Alexander and Sybrina.

'Well it's a pleasure Ms. Trevick,' she did not know he'd followed behind her, until he'd grasped her hand and indecorously pressed his lips to the inside of her palm.

Sybrina snatched her hand away. Not for propriety sake, and how dare he, in the presence of the Dowager Countess, and the Baroness but when his lips touched her palm, she felt every part of her come alive, that she wanted his lips not just to kiss her palm but to __.

'Perhaps we should take tea. Are you joining us Alexander?' The dowager questioned.

Sybrina used the time to control her wayward thoughts. What was she thinking? For heaven's sake, didn't she know he only used women and then discarded them. He was a confirmed bachelor who reveled in his notorious status. She was pleased he'd made excuses and departed.

'You're very quiet Ms. Trevick!' the dowager accused.

It took Sybrina a few seconds to comprehend that it was her that was being addressed.

'Countess, I'd like to state our business, and if it pleases you to allow us to take our leave, as I have chores to attend to.'

The earl had made excuses of needing to attend to some business matter and had retired to his private library. He signaled to his footman, who instantly approached with a tray, glass, and decanter of the earl's favourite malt.

Now what do we have here?

The earl lounged back on his chair, draping his long muscular legs on his desk top.

Who was that lovely creature?

He'd never set eyes on her before. He was sure he would've remembered those mesmerizing deep green eyes, that luscious mouth, rosy lips, and that mass of long golden silk that begged for his hands to glide through it tresses, and that curvaceous body. She intrigued him with her mysterious, evasive manner. She fired his blood as no other Lady did, nor any of his previous lovers, and he'd had more than his fair share. He smiled a smile of satisfaction that touched his sensuous lips and lit up his hazel eyes.

She was his for the taking, he just needed to convince her that she would find him as attractive as he found her. At dinner tonight he would quiz his mother on the nature of Sybrina Trevick's business to Cavendish castle.

'Oh my word, I swear there was a connection between you and Alexander,' Claudia whispered in the curricle back on their way home.

'I am sure I do not know what you are talking about,' Sybrina felt the heat warming over her cheeks.

'Indeed!' Claudia grinned.

'Do you think the Countess would consider the Orphanage's request?' Sybrina wished to draw the conversation away from the direction her friend was leaning. She was still trying to process what had passed between her and the earl, she refused to admit to herself that something had happened between them.

'Oh she definitely will Sy. The Countess would love the ton to notice her benevolent gestures. Mind you, I have to admit Alexander is very munificent in that way.'

'Really?' The Rake has a heart?

'Oh yes, ask any of the dozens of his tenants, he is truly magnanimous with his wealth. Even his staff in all his county estates holds him in high esteem. He is very fair with the rent, compassionate when they cannot pay. Ralph tells me, the earl gets physically involved in the repairs and maintenance of his properties that his tenants occupy.'

'Just how many properties does he own?' Sybrina thought her father's one estate was ridiculously big and unmanageable.

'I'm not sure in total, but I know of the two here in London, the one in Bath, another in Herefordshire__'

'What is he doing with so much property?'

'Alexander is the eighth Earl of Cavendish, all his predecessors acquired property before him and he continues to do the same. I suppose buying property is a way to avoid the taxes, after all the tax system favours Gentleman, more than they do the commoners.'

'Well if what you say is true, then I'm looking forward to my warm baths in the evening again very soon.'

'Oh Sy, I wish you'd go back home, I can't believe you gave all that up, to live like a pauper.'

'Never Claudia, I'm never going back, and you're not allowed to reveal anything about me to the Cavendishes. They would just assume I'm a spoilt child who needs to be taken in hand.'

'Indeed we would not want that,' Claudia grinned mischievously, as her curricle stopped and the footman was at hand to help Sybrina alight, but not before Sybrina gave her friend a reproachful glare.

Mother Agnes was having her afternoon nap. Sybrina tiptoed up to her chamber. She longed to fill up the bath Father Timothy Darcy had brought back for her, from one of his trips to the continent, but she made do with a basin of cold water for now.

How different things were in her father's mansion. She'd had a lady's maid to undress her. Maids to run her bath. Maids to serve her hot chocolate in bed. Off course Sybrina had ran the house from a very young age. She and her father had nobody else.

Her mother had died giving birth to her. Her father had hated her, for taking his wife away from him. Sometimes Sabrina used to see the anger and hatred in his eyes, whenever he looked at her, for she was the exact image of her mother, beautiful, with the same blond hair and uncommon jade green eyes.

Sybrina had tried all the nineteen years of her young life to please her father, but nothing she did ever brought a smile to his face, or warmth and affection in his eyes. Just once, she would have loved to see him smile at her, or embrace her, but he never did.

The only physical contact she got from her father was in his drunken state when he would angrily lash out at her for taking his wife away from him, and he was very ingenious her father, he never struck where it could be evident, always the blows were to her stomach, or his fists in her back, so nobody could see the evidence.

He never showed any remorse afterwards... never ever.

Sybrina never retaliated or complained to anybody. She was sure her personal chamber maid had seen him lash at her once, but she could be mistaken, as the erstwhile servant never broached her about it.

Enough had been enough when ten months ago, in his drunken state, her father with his iron fists around her throat, had tried to take her life

She had thought her life was over. She had felt the oxygen supply cut off to her lungs. When her father's grip had loosened, with supernatural strength she had kicked him, with all the ability she could muster between his thighs and ran for her life, and hid in the stables. When her father had fallen asleep, she had crept back in, packed two valaises of selected clothing and made the two hour journey by carriage with a groom to the countryside town of Tilly Manor. She had sent the groom back to her father's estate and promptly knocked on Father Timothy and Mother Agnes's door.

Seeing the bruises on her gentle neck, they had taken pity on her with tears in their eyes and accepted her with no questions.

Sybrina had begged them not to repeat a word to anybody. From the first day she woke up in the orphanage Sybrina worked like a maid, not that she was unused to it.

She had been the Mistress of her father's estate from the day she turned ten. Managing the pantry, assisting the cook, seeing to meals. paying host to her father's drunken gentleman friends whom she had not thought deserved to be called gentleman.

She was used to hard work.

During the mornings she helped on the farm, planting in the spring, at harvest time picking the apricots, strawberries, tomatoes, pears and nectarines. She supervised the making of jams. Sent supplies to the market, and kept an account of all the profit from sales.

She helped the maids with the house chores, planned stately dinners, when her father entertained families of peers.

Sybrina had been frugal, and had kept an efficient bookkeeping system of her father's finances. Every one of her father's servants, male and female alike held her in high esteem, and always deferred all matters to her, even when her father was in attendance.

Matters had come to a head, one week after she had left notice with her lady's maid that she was leaving . Her father had sent numerous messages, demanding her return. He had cut off her allowance. Stopped her account at Bond Street, thinking she would crawl back with her tail between her legs, but he'd underestimated the defiant, fiery spirit of his only child. She'd rather beg for water and moulded bread than go back and endure abuse from her violent, alcoholic parent.

Thank the good Lord she did not need to beg, the kind hearted Darcy's even paid her a weekly stipend, for her personal effects, most of which she used to fill the pantry. She was thankful also that one of her father's groom's came every week, without her father's knowledge with a wagon full of fruit and vegetable from the estate. Sometimes, he brought rabbit, venison and fowl. The Darcy's were most thankful to God, for the additional supplies that could help see to the needs of the twenty odd orphans they housed.

Of course there were never-ending needs. Children's school attire, shoes, winter clothes, medicine, the list was endless. Before Sybrina climbed into bed, she prayed on her knees to God, that tomorrow her prayers would be answered.

'Madam Trevick can you get down from the roof, I want a word with you!'

'Lord Chauncey, w__what are you doing here?' Sybrina asked with surprise, surely it was not common for a gentleman to arrive unannounced.

'Get down here I want to speak with you,' he demanded.

I am busy you should have first made an appointment!

Sybrina glared at him angrily. Who did he think he was, instructing her to stop working. Nevertheless, she turned backwards and slid down the ladder. She looked over her shoulder at the Earl, and saw he was bracing himself to catch her, expecting her to fall.

When she was about four steps from the bottom, Sybrina jumped and landed neatly on her feet. She curtsied before the earl.

'My Lord, how can I be of assistance?' she asked avoiding his eyes.

Lord Alexander studied the young girl, not in the least uncomfortable for him to see her dressed in a workman's overalls. Her hair was pinned in a pony tail, but a few strands had slipped out on either side and hung down her temples. Today she did not look a day over eighteen. He had almost choked on his breath, when Mother Agnes had pointed to her. He'd thought she was a young lad that was cleaning the gutters on the roof.

Sybrina unobtrusively studied him back through her lowered lashes. He was handsomely dressed in elegant town rig, the close fitting expensive charcoal cloth of Weston's exclusive tailoring as if it was cut on his shoulders, stone coloured pantaloons, immaculately polished Hessians, and the meticulous necktie, displayed a handsome man of high fashion.

An attractive Rake actually.

'Pray tell me what you are doing on the roof madam?' the Earl demanded.

Cleaning the gutters, is it not obvious?

'After the storm last night my lord, there was more damage. The water's seeping through the ceiling in the dining room, and there's a lot of debris in the gutters,' she pointed up to the gutters where she and one of the older orphans were picking up the debris from the gutters.

'You will show me the damage inside in a minute,' he instructed, and without another word, scaled the ladder to inspect the gutters for himself.

Sybrina watched him animatedly, as he gracefully scaled the ladder as if he did this every day of his life. She turned around when she heard the sneeze of horses, and saw Lord Chauncey had come with his phaeton, emblazoned with the proud Cavendish emblem on it. The groom stood to attention, brushing down the spirited chestnuts, which must have enjoyed a sprint, and looked like they wanted another go of it in the wind.

'Let me see the inside madam,' the earl spoke softly, seeing she was gazing admiringly at his beloved chestnuts.

Sybrina nevertheless still jumped nervously, clutching her palm to her chest, to hear that melodic baritone, so close to her ear.

'This way my lord,' she hastily preceded him into the lounge area to view the storm damage.

'Mother Agnes, you're looking fit and healthy as a puppy,' the earl praised Mother, who gushed and touched her palm to the hair at her temple.

'My lord, what brings you to the orphanage?'