Married to the Rake (The Wallflower Brides Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

  Her mother paused and placed the quill back in the pot, turning to face Chloe. “It might seem to you that it is just a silly argument between two old men but your father has good reasons for disliking Waverley.”

  “What reasons?” She could not believe that she had been part of this fight for so long and there were other reasons. Reasons that she had been unaware of.

  “Well,” her mother pressed fingertips to her forehead, “you know that your father was married before me.”

  Chloe nodded. “She died, did she not?”

  “Yes, very young and very quickly. It was quite sad.”

  “What does that have to do with the Waverleys?”

  “Your father married her to save her from the Waverleys. She was pressed into marriage to George and she did not want it one bit. So your father married her instead.” Her mother smiled. “Believe it or not, your father was quite the soft character back then. And Waverley has always been an arrogant man. It is no wonder Julia chose your father over him. But, of course, it gave the Waverleys something else to be angry with us about.” Her mother sighed. ”The worst thing is, your father was looking to repair the relationship back then. They were going to discuss the selling of the land and ensuring no one argued over it ever again. But when your father did the right thing, all civility vanished.”

  Chloe blinked and blinked again. Her father had his moments but the story did ring true. She recalled the times when she was a little girl, when he had kissed her grazed knee better or taken her to the library and read to her. Though this argument was making him grumpier with age, she could imagine him coming to the rescue of a woman when he was younger.

  Which meant the ongoing argument was all George Waverley’s fault, and not her father’s. She drew in a long breath. But did that change matters? Did she not still want to put an end to this nonsense? She was not at all sure. Particularly when she was following Mr. Brook Waverley’s lead. She had always known him to be a rogue but if his father was so bitter and vile as to try to force a woman into marriage…force her father to play rescuer, well…what sort of son would he produce?

  Chloe left her mother to finish penning the reply and retreated to the library. At least there, she could think. Should she continue on with her deal with Mr. Waverley? Should she even trust him? There were so many reasons not to but, well, he had seemed so genuine. She snorted to herself as she shut the library door. She was willing to wager every woman who had fallen for his charms thought him genuine.

  “Boo!”

  Chloe screamed and whirled to find her brother Freddie tucked at the side of the door.

  “At last. I thought you were going to take forever.”

  She scowled at him and pressed a hand to her racing heart. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  He shook his head, vigorously, sending red curls bouncing. He grinned. “No, but it would have been funny if you had fainted.” He sauntered over to their father’s armchair and sat in it, his legs sprawled over one arm.

  “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

  “I’m meant to be reading Latin but it’s the dullest thing on earth.”

  Chloe could not argue with that. She plucked up the book from the study desk and leafed through it. “I read this one when I was younger. Do you want me to help?”

  “I would rather you throw it in the fire.” He lounged back on the chair.

  She glanced at the empty fire. “I do not think that would do much good. But you must study.” She dragged over another chair and sat at the table, patting the seat. “Come, if we do it together it will go much more quickly.”

  “Fine.” Freddie stood and walked as slowly as possible before flinging himself down onto the chair. She laughed to herself. When Freddie had been born, she thought it the most awful thing. She didn’t want a baby around and with him being a boy, she was certain he would get all the attention. Of course, her parents were happy to finally have another baby and for it to be a boy but it had turned out to be rather fun having a sibling so much younger than herself. It made quite a nice distraction from the trivialities of being an adult woman.

  “Papa said if I finished my work, I could ride with him to the border.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “To see if those blasted Waverleys have moved it again.” Freddie curled a fist in a manner that reminded her too much of her father.

  “Those ‘blasted Waverleys’ are our neighbors,” she said gently.

  Freddie lifted both shoulders. “That does not mean they are good people. That is what Papa says.”

  “Papa…should not say that.” Chloe took Freddie’s shoulder, forcing him to face her. “One day, this shall be yours…”

  Freddie rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

  “No, what I mean is, so shall that disagreement? Do you really wish to spend all your time checking borders and fighting with your neighbors?”

  He nibbled on a fingernail, speaking around it, “I don’t know.” He removed his finger from his mouth. “But what can I do about it?”

  Chloe pressed her lips together. Nothing, most likely. At least not yet. But she could. For the sake of her brother and her father, she would have to put her faith in Mr. Waverley. Though, she would guard herself most fiercely against any of his charms. Not that she would expect him to try to use them on her but it would not do to let her guard down, no matter what.

  “Right, let us get to work,” she declared, flipping open the book. A little Latin would certainly distract her from the conundrum that was Mr. Waverley.

  Hopefully.

  Chapter Six

  Well, it had worked. Brook allowed himself a smile as the Larkins entered Benedict’s ballroom and were announced. He let his smile expand as he took in the sight of Miss Larkin, her curves flattered by a gown that to his rather expert eye was slightly too tight for her. Her red hair was a strawberry swirl piled elegantly on top of her head. He chuckled when he saw her grimace and rub her scalp. No doubt that mass of hair was pinned up tightly and probably hurting her. He could just tell the woman was itching to be out of her gown, dying to pull her hair down and be tucked away amongst books.

  As Mr. and Mrs. Larkin glanced around, Brook ducked back behind the dancers. If they spotted him, they would know his father would soon be on his way and no doubt leave immediately. Apparently, Mrs. Larkin had been quizzing Benedict as to who would be in attendance but they managed to keep the fact that his family would be here from her. He only hoped Benedict did not pay the price for his meddling.

  If their fathers resolved their differences, it might be worth it. And Benedict was a big boy, he could handle himself. However, after what his father had told him about Mr. Larkin, he was not sure he would blame his father if he did not wish to resolve the situation.

  He slipped around the back of the ballroom, shadowing the Larkins’ steps but ensuring he remained out of sight. It was a darn shame that Miss Larkin should come from such poor stock. Did she even realize the bastard her father was? He had to believe not. In his experience, most daughters thought their fathers the best thing in the world, and he doubted she was any different.

  Bodies were pressed close together, overpowering floral scents surrounded him, and a woman laughed loudly in his ear. He squeezed through the heaving bodies and pressed a hand through a gap to grab Miss Larkin’s hand. She jolted and he thought he heard the sound of surprise come from her but he could not be certain with the noise and bustle. Twirling, she snatched her hand back and her annoyed expression did not dissolve as he had expected.

  “Come with me,” he said to her over the din.

  She opened her mouth then closed it. Glancing at her parents, her shoulders dropped a little and she pressed through the crowds to come to his side. “Where are your parents?” She shook her head. “I should have known you would not follow through on your part.”

  “My father is on his way.” Another shrill laugh made him wince. He snatched her hand again and dragged her back to
ward the entranceway of the ballroom. She tried to remove her hand from his but he kept a firm grip of her fingers until they were tucked around the corner and away from all the noise.

  “That’s better.” He grinned at her flustered expression.

  “Whatever it is you want, talk quickly. I shall not allow myself to be caught with you of all people.”

  Brook pressed a hand to his heart. “Am I really such a villain?”

  “I believe you just might be.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Especially if you are so like your father.”

  “So like my father?” he echoed.

  “I suppose it makes sense you are the way that you are. With such an example to lead you, it is no wonder you think you can take whatever you want, whenever you wish.” Miss Larkin rubbed her gloved fingers. “Even my hand.”

  “I needed to get you away from that crowd. It is impossible to have a conversation in there. Especially with Lady Treadwell laughing in my ear every two seconds.”

  “Believe it or not, there are better ways to get a lady’s attention.”

  “Oh yes,” he said dryly. “I should have simply waved a first edition in your face.”

  She pursed her lips and cocked her head. “Say whatever it is you wish to say. If your family is not here and have no intention of attending, you could have sent word somehow.”

  “My family are on their way. No doubt Father’s pacing the hallway waiting for my mother as we speak.”

  “They had better be. If I have attended a ball that I did not need to because you are playing some strange game…”

  Brook chuckled. “I am not certain what strange game I could be playing by getting you to attend a ball of all things.”

  She shrugged, making the jewels on her neck glitter. He could not help but dart his gaze down and eye each little blue stone as they twinkled along her cleavage. He saw the pulse at the base of her neck give a flutter and he dragged his gaze back up.

  “As I said, it is hard to know what to expect from you.”

  “Ah, yes. Because my father is a bad example.” He moved closer, forcing her back into the shadows as more people entered the ballroom, coming past them. She smelled of soap and the tiniest hint of violets. “Pray tell, what exactly do you think he might have done? To be such a bad influence?”

  Miss Larkin stared at him for a moment, again her gaze skipping over his expression. “You do not know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Our fathers’ argument is about more than just land.”

  So, she did know. And yet she still took her father’s side. It was a pity, because he thought Miss Larkin was cleverer than that. He did not think she would be so blinded by love. Perhaps he had underestimated her.

  “I know about that.”

  “And you have nothing to say on the matter?” she asked. “Really, I should not have even gone along with this plan. I think my father was right about you Waverleys.”

  “Right?” He scoffed. “I did not have you marked as a fool, Miss Larkin.”

  “A fool? Because I support my father and his decisions?”

  “You really support him after all he has done?” Brook shook his head. “I knew the Larkins were selfish but I had somehow thought you were untouched by it all.”

  “Selfish? Your father is the very epitome of selfishness.” She folded her arms, drawing his attention to her chest. He damned well wished she would stop doing that especially when he was trying to have an argument with her.

  “Your father stole my father’s fiancé. If we are talking of selfishness, I do believe the Larkins win that one.”

  She gasped. “Stole? My father rescued her. Julia did not wish to be married to such a vile, awful man. My father did his duty and aided her.”

  He frowned. Brook searched her eyes. She believed that story wholeheartedly. But, the way his father had told it, Marcus Larkin was no savior. Brook released a long breath.

  “It seems we have been told different stories about the same matter.”

  “Different stories?”

  He nodded. “Whatever happened between our fathers, they believe it to be different to whatever really happened.”

  “Your father could be lying about the matter.”

  “So could yours,” he shot back.

  “My father is no liar.”

  “Nor is mine.”

  “It seems we are at an impasse, Mr. Waverley.” She uncrossed her arms. “So what are we to do about it?”

  “I think we need to find out what really happened all those years ago. If we are to ever have a hope of repairing the relationship, we need to know.”

  “I only spoke with my mother. That is how I know what happened. I don’t suppose she knows much more. She met my father a few years after this happened.”

  “I will speak to my mother at some point. Perhaps she knows more. Though, how she will feel about me asking about a previous fiancé, I do not know.” He glanced around the side of the doorway. “I think your parents are starting to notice your absence. We had better return.”

  She nodded. “If I find out anything, how shall I get word to you?”

  “Leave me a note at the border. My father will certainly not complain if I check it daily.”

  Miss Larkin smiled a little and rolled her eyes. “Nor will my father.” She stepped out from the shadows. “We had better keep ourselves busy until your father arrives.”

  Brook tugged out his pocket watch. “My mother is known for being late though I did not expect them to take this long.”

  “You know how women are, we can never make decisions on what to wear.”

  “Why do I think that that is not the case with you, Miss Larkin?”

  She frowned at him. “I spent quite a while debating what dress to wear tonight, actually.”

  “I would wager not as long as most women.” He grinned. “But you made an excellent choice if that helps.”

  She blushed and it made his grin expand. “Go on,” he urged. “I shall enter in a few moments.”

  Miss Larkin hurried away, becoming lost in the crowd far too quickly for his liking. He’d rather hoped to watch that curvaceous behind for a few moments more.

  She was right, there were differences in their fathers’ stories and they needed to find out exactly what had happened. If all this arguing was down to a misunderstanding between the two men, then maybe it could be more easily resolved than they hoped.

  He glanced at the doorway. Where the devil was his father, though? It really was not like him to be this late.

  Brook headed into the ballroom, aware of a few gazes upon him. It would be impossible to keep his presence from the Larkins forever so he did not avoid partaking in the ball. He had a few obligatory dances with some young ladies and chatted with several old friends.

  He could not help but notice Miss Larkin had not danced once yet. Whether it was because she deliberately avoided dancing or because she had not been asked, he did not know. She sat alone while her parents spoke with friends. It would be a mistake to dance with her. Everyone knew of the rift between the families and they would certainly comment upon them dancing. It might even anger her parents too.

  But, damn it, he could not let her sit alone all night. He already knew how much she hated balls.

  He strode over and her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “My parents are watching.”

  “Let them watch.” He lifted a shoulder and offered a hand. “I would like to request the pleasure of the next dance.”

  “I never dance.”

  “Tonight you do.”

  She peered around him and no doubt there was at least a hundred eyes upon them. Her whole face grew red and finally she stood. “You are impossible,” she murmured.

  “Indeed I am.” He led her onto the dance floor and took up his position. Though he rather regretted that it was a lively country dance and not one where they could be slightly closer. After several reels, he found himself enjoying the sight of her gleaming eyes
and wide smile. Despite her protests, Miss Larkin enjoyed dancing.

  “For someone who never dances, you danced finely indeed.”

  “This is a simple dance.” She drew a long breath. “Anyone could dance it finely.”

  He shook his head as he passed by again. “I think you are a secret dancer, Miss Larkin. You likely practice in your bedroom.”

  “How preposterous, I would never do such a thing.”

  The way she glanced away from him told differently. He rather enjoyed the image of her prancing around her bedroom in her nightgown. He would not mind viewing such a spectacle in person.

  The dance ended all too quickly for his liking. He’d always enjoyed dancing but never quite so much as he had with Miss Larkin. There was something about her innate movements and her ability not to give a fig about what anyone was thinking that made it all the more pleasurable. For a brief moment, he had forgotten why they had joined forces.

  He stepped back and bowed to her and she made a face as she gave a curtsy. Brook chuckled to himself. Perhaps once this was all over, they could actually be friends.

  “Mr. Waverley!” Brook turned to find a harried-looking footman dashing toward him. “Mr. Waverley!” The man waved at him. Scowling, Brook made his way through the crowd to meet him.

  “What is it?” Tension pooled deep in his stomach. He couldn’t think of many reasons why his father would send a footman to fetch him.

  “You must return home with haste.” The man paused to draw a deep breath. “Your father…your father has taken ill.”

  “Taken ill?”

  “A heart attack I fear. Your mother requests you home at once.”

  Brook nodded, the dread dissipating and replacing itself with something icy cold. The noise around him dimmed and everything seemed fuzzy.

  “Chloe.” He peered around for her. He had to tell her he was leaving. That their plan could not take place.

  “I am here,” she said softly.

  She had remained directly behind him and had likely overheard the whole conversation.

  “I must go.”