What a Reckless Rogue Needs

by Vicky Dreiling

  “There are reasons my father doesn’t trust me. Make no mistake. I had no intention of attending the house party, and he knows it. The only reason I made the journey was because my father informed me in a letter that he meant to sell Sommerall.” He met her gaze. “I would never have traveled here otherwise.”

  “Not even to see your family?”

  A hard look came into his eyes. “Do you want the truth or do you want the fairy-tale version?”

  She laced her gloved fingers and stared at her hands. “You wish to persuade me you care nothing for your family.” She met his gaze. “But I have seen your affection for your sisters. I do not deny you have a bad reputation, but I do not believe you are quite as wicked as you wish me to think.”

  “I’ll not argue degrees of wickedness,” he said, “but you know to be wary of a man like me.”

  She wondered if his words about himself were meant to push her away. “The marquess is a wealthy man,” she said. “He has no urgent reason to sell.”

  “Of course he does,” Colin said. “Look around you. It’s a miracle the place is as sound as it is, but eventually neglect will take a toll.”

  “I understand, but what difference will five months make to him? None. But for you, it is crucial. Marriage cannot be undone, at least not without scandal. He should give you a chance.”

  He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve given him reason to mistrust me.” He sighed. “I am sorry to have misled you today. If you wish, I can stop the driver and turn back.”

  He looked defeated. “We will continue on,” she said. “Because there is something we can do with the time allotted to us. The house party will not conclude for another three weeks. We will search through every trunk and every box until we find your mother’s miniature.”

  “It may not turn up.”

  She set her hand on his sleeve. “No matter what happens, we will make every effort.” At least he would know that he’d tried, although there was little comfort in it.

  He nodded. “It’s bound to be in one of those infernal trunks. I have little time to find it.”

  She prayed that it was in one of the trunks. He would take it hard if they never located it.

  They worked tirelessly in the attic. Colin set the paintings of his grandparents aside, along with one of his father. Angeline found one of him holding a puppy. “I love this one of you.”

  “Ah, Spotty,” he said. “He was a good dog.”

  “How old were you in this portrait?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can tell it is you.”

  “No, you cannot,” he said.

  “Of course I can. I would know those curls anywhere.”

  He laughed. “I used to go along for the shooting with my father and grandfather. Spotty would fetch any birds they hit, which wasn’t very often. Our fathers are truly the worst shots in England.”

  She laughed. “Was there a portrait of your parents?”

  “These are the only ones I’ve found. The others are probably stored at Deerfield.”

  He’d saved only a few items in one trunk, including the correspondence they’d forgotten to take yesterday after their heated exchange.

  He opened another trunk and said little as he piled crates high with pewter dishes, clocks, bottles, candles, sheets, brushes, shaving accoutrements, soap, and old clothing. There was more, but it all seemed like a blur to her. The detritus of another lifetime filled the room.

  When Agnes entered the attic much later, Angeline stood and realized her arms were a bit sore from the work. She removed her gloves and addressed Agnes. “Have you finished cleaning the furnishings in the bedchambers?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “You might as well take your meal with John.”

  “I took the liberty earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you, my lady.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Agnes.”

  “If it pleases you, I’d be glad to test the range in the fireplace. I found sand for the floor.”

  Angeline blinked. “Sand?”

  “Yes, my lady. It’s for catching any sparks and preventing fires.”

  She was a scullery maid and would know such things. Angeline looked at Colin. “Do you have any reservations?”

  He opened another trunk. “Agnes, I presume you have experience?”

  “Yes, my lord. It’s my job to start the fire in the kitchen and fireplaces at Deerfield.”

  Colin dusted his hands. “Ring the bell if there’s a problem, even a minor one. Safety first.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She bobbed a curtsy and left.

  “That will save us the bother of bringing Cook here,” Angeline said.

  Colin took out his watch. “It’s after two o’clock. You must be starving.”

  She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, this is hard work,” he said. “I fear this is a fool’s errand.”

  “I disagree,” she said. “You found portraits, and the items in the crates will find good homes. We will find the miniature. It’s bound to be here somewhere.”

  His smile faded. “There are only two trunks left.”

  She must keep positive for his sake. “Well, we just haven’t rummaged in the right trunk yet.”

  He sighed. “Let’s repair to the breakfast parlor. I don’t want you to swoon from hunger.”

  She scoffed. “I’ve never swooned in my life, and I do not plan to start now.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “And deprive me of rescuing you?”

  “No doubt it has escaped your notice, but I’m not one of those dainty, petite ladies. You’re likely to put your back out.”

  A devilish gleam entered his eyes as he advanced on her. “You think I’m too weak to pick you up?”

  “Do not be ridiculous.”

  “You say that frequently,” he said, cornering her.

  “Stop that nonsense. I’m hungry.”

  He caught her by the waist. She squeaked when he put her over his shoulder. “Put me down.”

  “Say please.”

  “I’m going to kick you. One…two…”

  Her feet hit the floor. She adjusted her bodice and shook her finger. “You will not do that again.”

  “By now you should know better than to challenge me.”

  “You had better keep an eye over your shoulder. I intend to get even.”

  He laughed and led her downstairs to the breakfast parlor. She realized he’d managed to charm her, and she thought how easily she could develop tender feelings for him. In the process, she would look very much the pathetic spinster. No matter what had happened to her, she still had her pride, and she refused to be the object of anyone’s pity.

  After they finished their meal, she realized his earlier good mood had disappeared.

  “Colin, don’t worry. We will find the miniature.”

  “Even if we do, it won’t change anything. Sommerall will pass out of my family.”

  “Do you want to visit your mother’s resting place now?”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps tomorrow?” she said.

  “Tomorrow I will give my father notice to sell.”

  “You can’t give up,” she said. “You negotiated for six more weeks.”

  He sighed. “It won’t change anything,” he said.

  His shoulders were slumped and his expression was dispirited. Part of her wanted to encourage him to do everything in his power to retain Sommerall, but he clearly wanted to be done with it forever. She feared he would regret giving up, but it was his decision, not hers.

  “Let us go upstairs. I want to finish quickly.”

  He opened the last two trunks. They knelt side by side. She prayed for a miracle as she set the folded sheets, blankets, and candleholders aside. There was nothing else inside.

  “No luck here.” Colin stood and extended his hand to her. She took it and felt his loss as if it were her own.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I expe
cted it.”

  She had no words of comfort and knew they wouldn’t help anyway.

  “Will you come with me to the drawing room? I don’t want to depart just yet,” he said.

  “Yes, of course.”

  He led her down the stairs and into the drawing room. She perched on a sofa, and he sat beside her.

  “Thank you for your faith in me and for your assistance,” Colin said. “While our efforts were for naught, I am grateful to you.”

  “I wish you would reconsider approaching your father. You deserve at least six months.”

  He shook his head. “He is adamant. Once he makes a decision, he rarely changes his mind. In this case, he won’t. We will have little opportunity to talk with so many others about, but thanks to you, I will make more of an effort with my family.”

  At least she’d managed to help him in that regard. “You will never regret it.”

  “There is something else, and you are under no obligation to answer. I’m greatly disturbed by what happened to you and about your father’s state of mind. The day he came here, his spirits seemed good, but when he heard our mothers discussing plans for you, he was extremely discomposed. He was also drinking copious amounts of brandy. I don’t want to judge him, as I’ve been guilty of overindulging, but I had the impression that he is overwrought.”

  She looked at her clasped hands. “It’s my fault.”

  “You’re not responsible for his reactions.”

  She met his eyes briefly. “I was taken in by a cad.”

  “Angeline, it occurs to me that you have no one to talk to about what happened. I know whatever occurred is painful for you. You’ve likely had to hold it all inside. I think that must make matters far worse. If you prefer privacy, I understand, but I will listen without judgment.”

  He’d honed in on one of the most difficult aspects. She’d had no one to confide in and had never felt comfortable discussing the events with her mother. In truth, she’d hidden much from her mother in Paris to spare her additional pain.

  She took a deep breath. “You are perceptive. There has been no one I could trust, and by the time everything fell apart, I had no friends to confide in. Everyone had shunned me. I don’t blame them at all. We both know the rules of the ton. Almost anything is tolerated except indiscretion, but I am beforehand in my tale.”

  “Start from the beginning,” he said.

  “Not once did it ever occur to me that I might ever be in danger from a rake. Who would dare meddle with a duke’s daughter? So I flirted, danced, and traded quips with gentlemen. I ignored my mother’s dire warnings that I’d gained the label of flirt and was courting trouble. Then one day, I awoke to the realization that I was thirty years old and in serious danger of becoming a spinster.”

  “How did you get involved with Brentmoor?”

  “Charlotte invited me to join her and her husband, Viscount Portsworth, at Vauxhall. There was a large party in the box, and I felt safe with my friends. Brentmoor joined the group, but he was not one of the invited guests. Portsworth did not ask him to leave, probably because he didn’t want to create a stir.”

  Colin nodded. “Yes, it’s usually best to ignore the interlopers, but I suspect Brentmoor made a habit of it.”

  “I knew Brentmoor had a bad reputation, but I didn’t give him a second thought. I figured he would not dare trifle with me in the presence of esteemed friends. After a while, someone suggested the group walk along the lighted avenues. Brentmoor made it a point to walk beside me. When he tried to flirt, I told him he was wasting his breath. I might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. The evening concluded without incident, and I promptly dismissed him from my thoughts.

  “Thereafter, he seemed to be at every entertainment I attended. He tried to charm me, but I refused his requests to dance. One night I left a crowded ballroom to get some air on the landing. I fanned my hot face and paid scant attention to the group of gentlemen nearby. Then I overheard one of them say that I was headed for ape territory.”

  Colin gritted his teeth. It was a derogatory term for spinsters. “Who was he?”

  “I’ve no idea. As you can imagine, I did not want to face them. In hindsight, I should have stared them down with my head held high, but I was humiliated. My mother had warned me about the perils of waiting too long to marry, but I didn’t think it applied to me. I thought my father’s rank would protect me. I was desperate to keep my composure, but I was shaking. Then Brentmoor was at my side. He’d heard it all and damned the cads who had dared to speak of me in such an insulting manner.

  “He insisted on escorting me into the ballroom to my father, where I would be safer. Then he apologized and said he knew he wasn’t worthy of me. Of course, I negated that statement, and my father was grateful. After all, he was kind to me and admitted his character was imperfect. The next day he called upon me and spoke to my father. Once again, he admitted he was unworthy, but he had wanted to ensure I had recovered from that heinous insult. He stated that he would not presume to call again, because he was unfit.

  “My mother was suspicious, but my father thought Brentmoor’s honesty about his faults showed his character wasn’t all bad. Thereafter, he would seek out my father at entertainments.”

  “He was scheming,” Colin said.

  “Oh, yes, but we did not know it then. He discovered my father loved to play chess, and my father invited him to call. Afterward, he regularly came to our town house to play with my father.”

  “He is an opportunist,” Colin said.

  “My first inkling of doubt came from Penny’s reaction. She left the drawing room every time Brentmoor called. She is especially sensitive. When I asked her about it, she said his eyes lied. I thought it strange and let it go. I should have paid attention.

  “Then one night after we’d danced, he told me that he was in danger of falling in love with me, but of course he was undeserving. Deep down, I knew that something wasn’t quite right, but I persuaded myself that I was in love, because I feared being a spinster. He admitted to my father that he was in debt. His father was a known drunkard, and he said that he gambled because his father was almost bankrupt. I did not know it then, but my father loaned him money.”

  “The devil,” Colin said.

  “My friend Charlotte tried to counsel me to be wary of him. She was very worried, because her husband had told her that I was making a bad mistake. I was a little angry at her presumption. At every point, I ignored the warning signs, because I feared that I would end up a spinster. Oh, God, if I had only known.”

  “He duped your father. Do not blame yourself.”

  “How can I not blame myself? I had doubts. I knew something wasn’t right.”

  “There are men who are experts at deceiving others. They sense other’s vulnerabilities and take advantage. When doubts come to the forefront, they manage to ease them.”

  “You describe his character well. I feel like a fool.”

  “You should not.”

  “He proposed, and I accepted. By then, he’d said all the right things to my father, who approved. My parents had a row over it. Like Penny, my mother saw through him. I pleaded with her. Brentmoor was trying to turn his life around, and he’d not had a good father to guide him. My own father agreed, and the contracts were duly signed. It was at that point his true character emerged.”

  “What happened?”

  “One night at a ball, Brentmoor took me aside and complained he was frustrated. He said he feared I was a prude and wanted me to prove myself, but I refused to allow him liberties until we were married.”

  “Good for you,” Colin said. Privately, he was relieved. It would have been a nightmare if the scoundrel had gotten her with child.

  “He was determined. At another ball, he pointed out the lanterns in a garden and the other guests walking about. He assured me there was no impropriety. At first, all was well, but then he took me away from the lanterns. When I chided him, he managed to make me feel guilty for den
ying him. We were engaged, so I let him kiss me. I believed he would behave like a gentleman, but when a group of men came near, he gave me a lascivious kiss and plastered himself against me. I could tell it excited him for others to see us, but I was mortified.”

  “You ought to have slapped him.”

  “In front of others? I dared not create a scene.”

  “I never thought about how a woman might be entrapped that way.”

  “Of course you would not, because you would never do such a thing. I knew in my heart that the way he was treating me was wrong. I should have called off the engagement at that moment.”

  “Why did you not?” Colin asked.

  “Because I knew if I broke the engagement that it would hurt my reputation.” She shook her head. “I should have consulted my parents, but they were in disagreement over my engagement, and that alone should have decided me.”

  “Angeline, I suspect that he twisted matters and caused you to question your judgment.”

  “He did,” she said. “He was very persuasive—he had to be or my father would never have let him step over the threshold. He concentrated all of his charm on my father and me. But he ignored Penny and Mama. They saw through him.”

  “When your father thanked Brentmoor for rescuing you at that ball, he’d given Brentmoor the opening he needed. He concentrated on you and your father because you were the decision-makers. In order to get what he wanted—your fortune—he needed to make you believe he was a gentleman who had experienced undeserved misfortune at the hands of his father. Similarly, he needed to persuade your father that he was seeking parental guidance. He gulled you and your father. When your father spoke well of him, you believed Brentmoor was a gentleman. Similarly, when you mentioned Brentmoor’s wish to improve his character, your father believed him worthy of consideration, particularly because he was so humble. In essence he played the two of you simultaneously. What finally prompted you to end the engagement?”

  “One evening, Brentmoor made plans to meet a friend at White’s. I was glad for the reprieve. To be honest, I felt I needed to think carefully about the step I was about to make. I was starting to feel a little panicked. If he really loved me, he would have respected my decision to wait for marriage and not press me constantly. I had so many doubts and wish now that I had listened to my own heart.