Lord Trowbridge's Angel (Six Rogues and Their Ladies #5)

“Not yet.”


“There is no reason why you cannot get away, then. London is not the best place to heal from an inflammation of the lungs. Elise and I will both feel better if you get out into the country.”

“It does sound lovely. Thank you both for thinking of me.”

“We will leave in the morning, then. We are taking the family traveling carriage. The children are staying behind with their nurse.”





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RESTLESS, FRANK DECIDED to go to the club for dinner. Shrewsbury beckoned to him when he entered the dining room. Joining his friend at his table, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a lovely young woman off my hands, would you?”

“Inasmuch as Miss Edwards is already off your hands, you must be referring to the Lady Melissa. Sorry, friend, she is indeed lovely, but a bit light-minded, I fear. Not to my taste.”

“I really did not compromise her, you know. She is virtuous still.” Frank poured himself a glass of claret from his friend’s bottle. When the waiter drew near, he ordered venison, roasted potatoes, and peas, with apple tart and cream to follow.

“What do you think?” he asked his friend. “Is the food really better at White’s?”

“Possibly. If you can stomach the Tories.”

“There is one Whig I wish to avoid.”

“Lady Melissa’s overweening Papa?”

“Yes,” Frank said and drained his glass. “He has put this whole thing in train, and I simply cannot marry his daughter. Sophie has my heart, and I fear she always will.”

Shrewsbury was silent as he sliced his lamb chop.

“How is your liaison with lovely Lila proceeding?” Frank asked.

“I have come to the conclusion that the women in my life prefer their men dark.”

“Dark as in devilish?”

“No. As in complexion. Lila is obsessed with you. We have parted ways.”

Frank grew uncomfortable. Shrewsbury had said “women.” Sophie was the only woman in his life. He was right, then. His friend had a tendre for his angel. How painful.

Rather than letting the silence stretch out, he asked, “And how does the great scheme progress with the orphan girls?”

“Ruisdell and I go to the country tomorrow to search out possible sites for the orphanage. That seems to be the way the wind is blowing. Hopefully, we can find a place not too far from London where they can be brought up to a trade, as well as taught to read.” He paused as the waiter brought Frank’s dinner. When the man had gone, he proceeded. “You might as well know, Miss Edwards goes with us, as does the duchess. They think getting out of London for a few days will aid Miss Edwards’ convalescence.”

Frank stirred uneasily. He no longer had an appetite for the dinner before him. Did Sophie know that Shrewsbury was to accompany her party? The idea of the two of them being on an outing together that consisted of a “few days” disturbed him more than he would ever admit. He had scarcely spent that much time with Sophie himself.

The fact was that Shrewsbury was devilishly attractive. The present situation was the first time in their friendship when Frank had had the upper hand as far as women were concerned. He had never been particularly bothered by it, as his interest in women had never taken a serious turn. But Shrewsbury had had a number of serious affairs of the heart that he had chosen to end at the point where the lady involved was expecting a declaration. He was, in a word, a heartbreaker.

This had never troubled Frank before. But in spite of her pledges to him, what if Sophie were to fall for Shrewsbury? And what if he were to casually break her heart? A surge of protectiveness overtook him. The woman he loved thought she knew her own mind, but she was actually quite na?ve. He must warn her. He must go to her again tonight.

“Something troubles you, Frank?” his almost lifelong friend asked.

“Don’t break her heart. Don’t even think of it.”

His friend smiled his attractive smile. “What makes you think I would do something like that?”

“History.”

Frank rose, his dinner uneaten, and strode to the reading room. He ordered brandy, took a cigar from the case, and seized a sporting periodical. He must bide his time until midnight, when he would sneak into the Deal mansion again.

~~*

At last, the hour came. He walked briskly from Brook’s to Sophie’s home. There appeared to be several candles alight in her bedroom. A warmth came into Frank’s chest in anticipation of seeing his beloved. Even if Shrewsbury weren’t accompanying her, he would have come for a good-bye kiss. They had never been parted before.

Why was he acting like a school boy? Where was his sang froid, his breezy manner? When had he become so earnest?

Devil take it! The window was locked! He tried all the others, but someone had locked up the house tight as a drum. It was too late for a letter. Sitting on a stone bench in the garden, Frank simmered in frustration.





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