To Dare A Rogue
Book 6 of
A Regency Romance
Lana Williams
USA Today Bestselling Author
To Dare A Rogue
Book 6 of The Rogue Chronicles
By Lana Williams
Lady Charlotte Wynn is determined to gather a few memorable adventures before her father selects her future husband. Given Lord Wynn’s difficult demeanor and lack of regard for her feelings, she is certain she’ll dislike the man. Yet she must accept his choice in order to help keep peace between her parents. Her carefully laid plans are threatened by the return of her brother’s best friend. The handsome, somber man is nothing like she remembers, but his rugged appeal proves irresistible.
James Crosby, Viscount Redmond, has yet to find peace since his return to England six months earlier. He tries to bury his painful memories of the battlefield with drinking, gambling, and women, but those do little to fill the holes in his soul. His carousing is interrupted one evening when he finds his best friend’s little sister somewhere she shouldn’t be, making him realize the young girl he once knew is all grown up.
When James orders Charlotte to end her adventures, she boldly dares him to escort her on the next one. After all, if he’s so determined to protect her reputation, it’s the least he could do. Now, if only she could find a way to chase the shadows from his eyes while continuing to smooth her parents’ tumultuous marriage.
Charlotte’s beauty is more than James bargained for. Toss in her quest to enjoy life, and it’s all he can do to remember to protect rather than ravish. One magical kiss and his world is upended. She fills him with the hope that he isn’t as broken as he thought. But her father has already picked her husband, and nothing will change his mind. Can the pair find their happily ever after or will fate deny them the chance?
Table of Contents
Other Books in the Series
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Other Books by the Author
About the Author
Copyright
Other Books in The Rogue Chronicles Series
ROMANCING THE ROGUE, Book 1
A ROGUE’S REPUTATION, a Christmas Novella, Book 2
A ROGUE NO MORE, Book 3
A ROGUE TO THE RESCUE, Book 4
A ROGUE AND SOME MISTLETOE, Book 5, a Christmas Novella
TO DARE A ROGUE, Book 6
A ROGUE MEETS HIS MATCH, Book 7, Coming Summer 2021
A ROGUE’S AUTUMN BRIDE, Book 8, Coming Autumn 2021
A ROGUE’S CHRISTMAS KISS, a Christmas Novella, Book 9, available exclusively in CHRISTMAS KISSES: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology
More stories coming soon ~ to be the first to know about new releases and special promotions, sign up for my VIP Readers Newsletter.
Chapter One
London, England, June 1817
James Crosby, Viscount Redmond, stood in the drawing room of the Wynn residence, staring into the dark garden, wondering what had become of his life. He couldn’t say he cared for the man reflected in the window. In quiet moments like this, when all was still, he knew in his heart he was on the wrong path. His roguish behavior served no purpose other than personal amusement. That was no purpose at all.
With a sigh, he turned away. Better not to examine the reflection too closely. Now wasn’t the time for contemplation. He waited for Edward Adley, Viscount Wynn, an old friend he’d run into a few nights ago at a gaming hell. Though they’d both been three sheets to the wind, his dim memories of the evening reminded James how much he liked Edward. They intended to venture out again this evening. They were nearly the same age, both heirs to earls, and had become good friends during their days at Oxford.
However, they’d lost touch when James bought his commission, following in his grandfather’s footsteps, and left England three years ago to fight Napoleon while Edward remained home. James had returned to London six months ago only to find that peace eluded him. His attempts at staying busy in order to hold back the terrible memories were only successful for brief periods.
Perhaps because his preferred activities were drinking, gambling and women. He had just ended an affair with an intriguing actress, realizing he’d begun to dread evenings with her as they had little in common, and she had expensive taste. Too expensive for his modest income.
His father and mother, the Earl and Countess of Redmond, had thus far turned a blind eye to his behavior, but he knew that would soon come to an end. His father had supported James’ desire to defend England despite being the heir. And he’d suggested James had the right to enjoy himself after fighting in some of the bloodiest battles of the war. But during his visit with them the previous day, James could clearly see the concern in the depths of his father’s eyes.
That made two of them.
What to do about it was another matter. His parents would like him to marry and settle down, but that wasn’t possible. Not when he couldn’t manage his melancholy during the day, let alone at night. Sleep eluded him. He didn't need anyone other than his valet to witness his shouts during the night when nightmares dragged him back to the battlefield.
Though he told himself that he’d soon adjust to life at home and a normal routine, he was slowly losing hope that would ever come to pass. The memories were still too fresh and painful.
Waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, startling at loud noises in public places, and suppressing a surge of adrenaline when someone bumped into him or tapped him on the shoulder made it impossible to pretend like everything was normal. Because it wasn't. He wasn't.
He feared the old James would never return. Yet he had only to look into his mother’s worried eyes to wish he could find peace. He’d hoped by now that the memories would ease, and he would be able to start anew. But that hadn’t happened.
Hence the reason he was waiting for Wynn. They had plans to go to a less-than-reputable gaming hell, one rough enough that it was better not to go alone. He pulled out his pocket watch, wondering what was taking his friend so long.
A small sound from nearby had him turning quickly toward it, heart pounding, only to find an attractive young lady in a green gown standing in the doorway, staring at him with wide blue eyes.
“I'm terribly sorry,” she said. “I didn't realize we had a guest.” Then her eyes narrowed, and her head tilted to the side. She took two steps forward. “James?”
James stared at the attractive lady, trying to decide whether they’d met. Then she smiled, and her identity came to him in a rush. “Lady Charlotte?”
Her smile grew, bringing forth appealing dimples he’d nearly forgotten. “Yes. I didn't realize you had returned home.”
He glanced away before he denied her claim. While relieved to be back in London, he seemed to have lost something vital along the way. It was as if he were here in body but not in spirit. He'd left pieces of himself on the battlefield and had no idea how to get them back.
James blinked, trying to gather his thoughts before memories took charge, his gaze latching onto Lady Charlotte to keep the debilitating panic at ba
y.
If he remembered correctly, Charlotte was four years younger than he and Edward. When James had last seen her, she’d been a rather gangly girl, far too thin, with long limbs and a bright smile. The poised young lady before him was none of those things. Yet he hadn’t forgotten that smile that started in her sparkling blue eyes and lit her entire face. She was like a breath of fresh air.
“It’s good to see you,” she said as she drew closer. “I hope you are well?” The way she looked at him with such interest had him shifting his feet.
If he didn't know better, he would guess she could see all the holes the war had left in him.
He managed to smile and bow, deciding not to answer her question. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” As he continued to study her, he realized it was true. “The years have treated you well.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze dropped for the first time as a hint of rose flushed her alabaster skin. The pale hair he remembered had darkened to the color of rich honey. Her blue eyes were an unusual dusky blue-green hue that reminded him of the rain. Her heart-shaped face was attractive, her pert nose perfect. While she still had long limbs, there was a grace and elegance to her now, not to mention undeniable curves.
“What brings you by this evening?” While a curious note colored her tone, a tightness was evident in her expression.
“I am waiting for your brother. We have plans together.”
“Oh?” She lifted one brow in question as if hoping he'd say more. When he didn't, she prodded further. “Where do the two of you intend to venture?”
He thought it odd that she asked. But he certainly had no intention of telling her if Edward hadn't already. “Difficult to say exactly. Wherever our whims take us, I suppose.”
“I see.” She politely nodded then bit her lip, a small furrow appearing between her brows.
James pondered her obvious dissatisfaction with his reply. What difference did it make where they were going? Unless she disapproved of Edward’s gambling. That was the only explanation that made sense.
“Will it reassure you if I promise to do my best to keep watch over Edward?” The offer surprised him, and he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. He held no sway over her brother. Even if Edward got in too deep, there was little chance James could stop him.
“How kind of you.” Charlotte smiled, but James had the distinct feeling that wasn’t the reason behind her concern. “Do you think you’ll be leaving soon?”
“I believe so.” Before he could say more, Edward entered the room.
“Redmond, sorry to keep you waiting.” Edward strode forward and offered his hand.
“It’s not a problem.” James shook his hand then looked toward Charlotte. “I had the pleasure of reacquainting myself with Lady Charlotte.”
Edward raised a brow as he glanced at his sister. “Where are you off to this evening?”
“The Comerford Ball.” Her uneasy expression suggested anything but excitement, making James wonder whether she truly wanted to go. “Will I see the two of you there later?”
“Not if I have a say.” Edward grinned. “I’m avoiding every ball that I can.”
“Don’t let Mother or Father hear you say that.” A hint of a true smile quirked the corner of Charlotte’s mouth, causing her dimples to appear.
Damn. Those were a weapon not to be easily dismissed. His breath caught each time she flashed them.
How was it that she wasn’t yet married or betrothed? Were the men who attended Society’s functions blind to her obvious charms?
Edward scoffed. “It’s not my fault they have false hopes.” He looked at James. “I would hazard a guess that marriage is not in your immediate plans either.”
“Can’t say that it is.” James said the words lightly, uncertain of the undercurrents of the conversation. There seemed to be more to it than he knew thus far.
“Well, don’t let me keep you from your evening.” Charlotte glanced at the clock on a nearby table, leaving James to wonder if perhaps they were delaying her plans. “I’m sure you need to go.”
“Yes, we do. Enjoy the ball.” Edward brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t step on anyone’s toes.”
Charlotte gave her brother a mock scowl. “As if that were possible.” Then she looked at James, her gaze holding steadily on him. “It was a pleasure to see you again. Enjoy your evening.”
“And you.” He bowed then followed Edward out, wondering why Lady Charlotte seemed in such a hurry for them to depart.
~*~
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Edward and James hop into a carriage from her post at the drawing room window. She thought they’d never leave. Now she was late. She should already be at the corner where Lady Barbara and her brother, Viscount Palmer, were waiting for her in their carriage.
While she truly had enjoyed seeing James again, his arrival had delayed her. Or rather, her desire to speak to him had. She drew a long breath of appreciation for the handsome man he’d become. His rugged appeal had deepened during his years away.
Broad, powerful shoulders and narrow hips were evident thanks to his form-fitting dark grey double-breasted tailcoat, a paler shade of waistcoat, and matching trousers. His features had strengthened, becoming more chiseled, made evident by the elegant double knot of his snowy white cravat.
Dark brown hair with a hint of a wave was clipped short in the back but left long in the front to fall carelessly over his forehead. Thick brows framed brown eyes that seemed to observe far too much. His smile was slower to appear than it had been in the past. Surely that had something to do with the shadows lingering in his eyes.
She shouldn’t wonder about those issues now. She pressed a hand against her stomach to settle the nerves there as she retrieved her silk Spencer to protect against the cool, evening air where she’d left it on the handrail. After quickly donning it, taking care to tuck the object it hid underneath her arm, she hurried down the stairs. She’d already told her mother she was going to the ball with a friend but had been careful not to mention Lady Barbara. Her mother wouldn’t approve. For once, Charlotte was grateful for the lack of interest her mother had in anything beyond her sitting room these days.
Her father was at his club, and Mother intended to remain home. Again. Charlotte reached the front door, excited at the evening before her. Yet she couldn’t deny a certain amount of worry at what she was about to do. So many things could go wrong if she were caught.
“Lady Charlotte, did you wish me to call for the carriage?” Gordon, their longtime butler, asked as he hurried forward to get the door for her.
“No need. I’m joining friends.” She gestured outside as if they were waiting in the drive and forced a smile, certain the servant knew she was lying. If only she were better at telling falsehoods.
“Very well, my lady. I wish you a pleasant evening.” He definitely knew something was amiss, but the sympathy in his expression suggested he would hold his tongue.
“Thank you.” She ignored the unsettling sensation his concern caused, stepped outside, and hurried down the steps. She braced herself for him to call out a question, but the door clicked shut behind her.
What if Lady Barbara and her brother had left without her? Alarmed at the thought of missing the evening she’d planned for some time, she quickened her pace and rounded the corner, relieved to see a carriage a short distance ahead. The door flew open as she approached.
“We nearly gave up on you,” Lady Barbara declared from the dim interior.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I was unexpectedly detained.”
The tall form of Charles Lowery, Lord Palmer, shifted forward to extend his hand to help her, though he didn’t bother to step out to do so. “I thought perhaps you changed your mind.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Charlotte said as she settled onto the bench beside Lady Barbara.
The carriage jerked forward, doing nothing for the nerves that
continued to plague Charlotte. She leaned back against the seat, well aware of the weight of her friend’s regard.
“Are you certain nothing is amiss?” Lady Barbara squinted at her with suspicion.
“Not at all. I was waiting for my brother to depart before joining you.” And desperately hoping he and James didn’t decide to make an appearance at Madame Bernard’s gathering.
The French widow was well known for the parties she threw. Many members of the ton and the demimonde, including well-known actresses and singers, were among her guests. One never knew who one might see there. At least, that was what Charlotte had heard.
She’d never attended a party like this one, but she hoped it would be the first of many adventures in the coming months. After the news her father had delivered last week, her time to truly live as she wished was short. Lord Wynn had advised her that she would be married by the end of the Season to a man of his choosing. She was to have no say in who the man would be. Her father had already narrowed down the choices but had yet to reveal their identity. No amount of arguing had changed his mind.
Charlotte had no doubt she wouldn’t approve of them, for the men her father respected were just like him—domineering, unreasonable, and old-fashioned, with no enjoyment of life and no tenderness for family.
She need only look at her mother to imagine what her future held—emptiness. She gave herself a mental shake. She’d promised herself not to dwell on what she couldn’t change but rather to enjoy all she could.
Hence this first adventure to Madame Bernard’s. The risqué party would give her a taste of a daring life she might otherwise never experience.
“Why not attend with your brother?” Lord Palmer asked. “I’ve seen him at several gatherings like this.”
Though tempted to admit that Edward would never agree to do so, she held back, not wanting Palmer to change his mind about accompanying her and Barbara.
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