What a Reckless Rogue Needs

Chapter Fifteen



The next morning before breakfast

Colin donned his coat and allowed Horace to fiddle with his cravat and shine his boots. He’d hoped to feel better after their meeting last night, but she’d ended their engagement. He couldn’t let that happen. As he buttoned his coat, it struck him that he could have ended this farce and proposed to her the day after the storm, but in retrospect their trial engagement had not been such a great idea. They had both been so hesitant, with good reason. A marriage based on property and a come-out ball sounded pretty flimsy in hindsight. He supposed it said much about their mutual desperation.

But now he was feeling desperate again, because he was in danger of losing her, and he didn’t want to lose her. Why did he always realize what he stood to lose only when matters were at their worst? He had to believe that he still had a chance. Once they were properly wed, he would request her services as a famous pretend courtesan. He would object, however, to her keeping other pretend men and knew that would tickle her fancy. Most of all he would make her laugh every day, because he knew there hadn’t been much laughter after that fiend tried to destroy her and her family.

She didn’t know it, and he had no intention of telling her, but he meant to avenge her. Brentmoor was something of a pretty boy, but he wouldn’t be after Colin used his handy fists to rearrange Brentmoor’s nose and blacken his bloodshot eyes. But first Colin had to gather all the supporters he could find, because he meant to give her the one thing that would make her happy. She was a duke’s daughter and a beautiful, clever woman who loved her sister and her parents.

More than anything, he wanted to give her a gift, her heart’s desire. She didn’t want anything for herself. She just wanted it for her sister. He didn’t know if he could manage it, but he would do everything in his power to make it happen.



When Colin took his usual chair next to Angeline at breakfast, he saw how tired she looked and felt badly. Mostly, he was worried because she’d ended the engagement, and he feared she wouldn’t give him a second chance. He figured he’d probably better get on his knees this time and beg her, because she’d sounded serious last night. He didn’t want to lose her.


Penny looked a little sleepy, too, and the duchess eyed her daughters suspiciously. “I understand that Penny stayed in your room last night, Angeline. Why do you both look so fatigued?”

“I was restless last night,” Angeline said. “I kept Penny awake.”

“The next time you are restless and wide awake, come to our room,” Bernadette said. “We’ll tell ghost stories.”

Colin decided to scare his sisters. “Muahahaha.”

Naturally the twins squealed.

The marquess rolled his eyes. “Colin, do not encourage your sisters in ghoulish nonsense. Margaret has enough trouble with the usual nonsense.”

Colin finished his breakfast and cup of tea. “The sun is out. I imagine Hercules would enjoy being outdoors, if that is acceptable, Margaret.”

“I think we should take advantage of the sunshine,” she said.

Colin turned to Angeline. “How is Hercules’s training progressing?”

“He is doing well. The girls have already taught him how to shake hands as you’ve seen. As long as his training is consistent, he will do very well. He is smart.”

The marquess snorted.

“Chadwick,” Margaret said, “you know how much Hercules means to the girls.”

“I would hope not more than their papa.”

“Are you jealous of Hercules, Papa?” Bianca asked.

“Mortally,” he said, folding his paper.

“Are you shooting today, Papa?” Angeline asked the duke.

Wycoff cleared his throat. “Not today, Daughter. Chadwick and I have a business matter to discuss.”

The marquess set his cup on the dish. “Speaking of business, Colin, if you have finished your breakfast, please come to my study in fifteen minutes.”

Colin wondered what surprise his father meant to spring on him now, but he would find out soon enough. His chest felt tight again, and he had a feeling this would not be good news.

Angeline looked at Colin. “Should we wait for you?”

“I beg your pardon,” the marquess said. “The business matter will probably take some time. I suggest the ladies go on ahead with your planned outing.”

Everyone rose and went to collect their warm wraps. Angeline stayed back with Colin. When everyone else had left, she turned to him. “I have a feeling this is good news for you.”

Colin’s heart beat a little faster. “Do you know something?”

She smiled. “I might know a little.”

Perhaps his father meant to grant him Sommerall. After all, Faraday had shown insufficient interest, and as far as Colin knew, there were no other interested buyers.

“I shouldn’t get my hopes up. They’re likely to be dashed.”

“I do not know for certain, but I’m sure it will all turn out well.”

He searched her eyes and thought he was lucky to have someone believe in him that much.

She really was special and beautiful and unbelievably seductive. Now Sommerall meant more to him than it had when he’d first arrived, because if he could persuade her to marry him, it would be their home. He’d better grovel this time.

He should make up for it with a waltz at her sister’s debut. That would please her immensely. Now all he needed to figure out was the best place and time to propose. He also needed to work on the words he meant to say, because he didn’t want to make a mess of it.

If a soothsayer had predicted this, he would have scoffed, but it mattered not. He would claim Sommerall—and soon Angeline—for his own. All he had to do was get her to agree. Hell, he’d beg if necessary, because he refused to lose her.



Fifteen minutes later, Colin tapped his knuckle on his father’s slightly open study door.

“Come in and close the door, please,” the marquess said. He sealed a letter and set it in the tray. Then he rose and walked around the desk. “Please be seated.”

To Colin’s surprise, his father sat in the chair next to him rather than behind the desk. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He suspected this was not what he’d anticipated. “Is something wrong?” Colin asked.

The marquess sighed. “I understand from Angeline that Sommerall has significant sentimental value to you.”

“What?” The words took a moment to soak into his brain.

“I figured you had no idea that she spoke to me on your behalf.”

The room temperature grew chilly. “No.” But she had hinted that she knew something.

The marquess folded his arms over his chest. “She made quite a case on your behalf and said there was more to you than just your rakehell reputation.”

He got up and walked to the window. “What else?”

“I was amused and absolutely charmed.”

Colin turned around and gaped at his father.

“If you let her slip away, you’re a damn fool,” the marquess said, “although it escapes me why she’d have anything to do with the likes of you. Then again, Lady Angeline enjoys fixing and renovating things. I imagine she considers you a challenging project.”

It took a moment to sink in and then Colin guffawed.

“Be seated, son. We need to talk.”

He claimed the chair next to his father. “Something is in the wind.”

The marquess sighed. “I have received a definite offer from Faraday.”

He couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then he shook his head. “But you gave me six weeks to find a bride.”

“I know you have made no efforts in that regard. You’ll not find a bride before the time is up.”

Hell. He should have proposed, but she’d called off their trial engagement.

“You cannot sell to the Faradays. It’s a family legacy,” Colin said.

“Yes, and your mother is buried there.”

Colin leaned forward. “Tell me what the offer is and I will beg, barter, or steal to match it.”

“The thing is I led him to believe it was available. I take responsibility. I mistakenly assumed he wasn’t serious about the property.”

“Tell him it’s no longer available.”

“I would, but he was under the impression that it was still available, and he turned down the seller of the other property.”

“He can find another,” Colin said.

“Son, his wife will be delivered of their firstborn within the month. They have spent considerable time searching for a property that suits their needs. I might mention that they’re supporting her elderly grandmother as well. If I were to take it off the market, what would they do? Mrs. Faraday is in no condition to travel to several properties, and they want to live in the general area because they have family nearby. The only other property available is not within their means. I know Sommerall has special significance to you, but it would be dishonorable for me to refuse them now.”

Colin’s nostrils flared. “I should have known something would go wrong.”

“I am disappointed in myself,” the marquess said.

Colin shook his head. “None of us thought they were serious. You can’t blame yourself for an unfortunate turn of events.”

The marquess rose, walked around his desk, and opened a drawer. “I have something for you.”

Colin stood when his father approached. “Angeline mentioned that you were searching for it.”

The marquess opened the box and revealed the miniature of his mother in a pearl-encrusted frame.

“I put it away in my desk to keep and took it out from time to time just to remember her. I didn’t want Margaret to see it. I think she’s always felt like second best, though God knows I’ve always thought her an angel.”


Colin swallowed. “I don’t want to take it from you.”

“No, it’s better this way. You should have it. I’ll have one made of Margaret. I should have done it years ago. I think it is past time.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you about the property,” the marquess said. “It was always intended for you.”

Colin nodded. His thumb smoothed over the pearl frame. “Thank you, Father. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ride over to Sommerall one last time.”

“Of course, take your time. I can send men later to collect the cradle and rocker.”

He nodded. “I appreciate it.”



Angeline led the group indoors. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m ready to warm my hands in front of the fire.”

“It is brisk outside,” Margaret said. “Girls, do not leave your wraps on the banister. Take them upstairs.”

Penny and the twins ran upstairs with their wraps. Not long after, the three giggling girls ran back down.

Angeline crossed her arms. “Is this your idea of deportment, girls?”

“We’ll try it with books on our heads after luncheon,” Bianca said.

Margaret held her palms up as if beseeching a higher power for help.

“I’m starving,” Penny said.

“You’re in luck,” Margaret said. “Luncheon is being served now.”

The marquess and Wycoff joined them.

“Papa, I’m surprised you and Lord Chadwick did not go shooting today,” Angeline said.

Wycoff exchanged a look with the marquess as everyone took a seat at the table.

Angeline looked at the marquess. “Where is Colin?”

“At Sommerall,” the marquess said. “You might as well hear it now since we’re all gathered. Mr. and Mrs. Faraday wish to purchase the property.”

Angeline gasped.

“Angeline,” the duchess said in a reproving tone.

“It’s perfectly understandable,” the duke said. “Our daughter recognizes what the property means to Ravenshire.”

When the marquess finished explaining the circumstances, Angeline rose. “Lord Chadwick, may I have the use of a carriage?”

“You should stay here,” the duchess said.

“Actually, Duchess, if you and Wycoff approve, I think Colin would welcome Angeline’s company,” the marquess said. “She was instrumental in assisting him, though I understand there is far more to be done—or would have been done.”

“I will approve,” Wycoff said. “They are adults, after all.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Angeline said. “Thank you, Papa.”

“I’ll make the arrangements for the carriage,” the marquess said.

Margaret rose. “I’ll have a hamper put together. He probably did not eat before he left. This is such a disappointment. I so hoped he would take possession and be near us at long last.”

Thirty minutes later, Angeline boarded the carriage with the hamper. She figured it would feel like the longest carriage drive she’d ever taken, even though it wasn’t all that far to Sommerall. She was glad that no one had complained about her journeying to him without a maid. This had to have been a low blow for him, and she wanted to console him.

When the carriage rolled into the drive at last, John stepped down and offered to carry the heavy hamper. Angeline hurried up the walk. The wind was blowing papery autumn leaves, and the gray sky looked forbidding.

The noise of the carriage must have alerted Colin because he opened the door. She ran straight into his arms. “I came as soon I heard,” she cried.

“Hush,” Colin said. “Come inside out of the cold.”

John set the hamper on the foyer table. “My lord, I await your instructions.”

“Drive the carriage back to Deerfield. Lewis took the other to the barn. Inform him that we’ll depart at four o’clock.”

“Yes, my lord.”

After John left, Colin wrapped his arms around Angeline again. “Thank you for coming.”

“How could I not?” She wiped a stray tear.

He offered his handkerchief. “You’re not weeping over an old house, are you?”

“I was so sure it would be yours.” I wanted it to be ours.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he said. “There are far worse things.”

He hugged her. “Come to the drawing room with me. I have something to show you.”

Why did everything have to fall apart? She knew it was ridiculous to think that way, but they had worked so hard, and she had wanted him to possess the property so that he could have his own home and be near his mother’s grave.

When they stepped inside, he walked to the hearth. “I’ll make a fire. It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“I could prepare a tea tray,” she said. “Margaret sent a hamper.”

“That would be nice,” he said. “Let me help. It’s a bit heavy for you.”

Not long after, he got a decent fire going, and the kettle whistled. He removed it while Angeline added tea leaves to the pot. He poured the hot water and sat beside her.

“While we wait for the tea to get dark, I thought you might like to see my mother’s miniature.”

He took out the box and showed her the pearl-encrusted frame.

“She was beautiful,” Angeline said. “Where did you find it?”

“My father had it stowed away in his desk. I suppose he felt a bit guilty keeping the miniature because of Margaret. He gave it to me. So you see all is not lost.”

Angeline bit her lip and nodded, because she was an adult and it was silly to cry on his behalf, but she felt his disappointment in her own heart. “I imagine Mr. and Mrs. Faraday will be kind enough to allow you to pay your respects to your mother periodically.”

“Yes, I’ll speak to them. It shouldn’t be too much of an imposition, I hope.”

She poured the tea. “I confess I’m a little sad. I’d looked forward to replacing the furniture and draperies. We never did get around to discussing a laundry and a spring vegetable garden, but that’s no longer your concern.”

They drank their tea in silence.

She set her cup aside. “Will you be staying through the Christmas holidays?”

“I have business in London. I’ll journey home a few days beforehand.”

She felt as if a clock were winding backward to the first night she’d seen him outside the drawing room at Deerfield. Everything had changed and then settled back to where they started the journey to the house party.

“Would you like to walk to your mother’s mausoleum?” she asked. “I would be glad to accompany you.”

“Thank you. I would like that very much.”

The wind was blowing autumn leaves everywhere. A red squirrel scampered past, reminding her of Hercules. When they reached the mausoleum, he took out the miniature and kissed it. “You will not be forgotten,” he said.

Tears poured down her cheeks.

He took out a handkerchief and blotted them. “I think she would have liked you.” He put his arm around her shoulder and led her back to the house.

“Do you want to walk through once more?” she asked.

“Yes, I think so.” He lit a lantern and led her up the stairs. “Let’s start at the attic, shall we?”

She gave him a weak smile. “We did spend a great deal of time there.”

They stepped inside. “Everything is in order,” he said. “But I don’t see our mouse.”


She laughed.

“I expect my father will send servants for the rest of the items.”

Colin took her hand, and they walked through the nursery. He retrieved the box of tin soldiers. “I think I’ll take this for sentimental reasons.”

They walked into his father’s old room where the shaving stand stood. Then he led her through the connecting door to his late mother’s room.

“Well, the bed didn’t catch fire, but it was a near thing.”

He startled a laugh out of her. “Oh, I cannot believe the things I said and did.”

“You may scoff, but truly it was one of the best nights I’ve ever had.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I hope you have no regrets.”

“I don’t,” she said. I will never regret loving you.

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress. “Sit with me. There is something I wish to tell you.”

She took a deep breath and joined him.

“I have sent letters to my friends. I gave them no particulars, but, and this hopefully will not unsettle you, they are very aware that Brentmoor mistreated you. Harry and Bellingham are willing and more than able to bring in supporters for you. With your permission, I would like to do everything in my power to restore your good name.”

She stood and walked to the window. When she pulled back the drapes, brown and orange leaves swirled in the wind. “I intended to ask my mother, Margaret, and Charlotte to help.”

“I believe Mrs. Norcliffe will help as well, but I want justice for what he did to you and your family.”

“I don’t know if it is even possible,” she said. “I could refute certain things, but more than one man saw me in the gardens with Brentmoor.”

“He tricked you, and I’m certain it would not surprise anyone, given his bad reputation. I’ll leave the choice to you, Angeline. You don’t have to decide now.”

She thought about the way Brentmoor had manipulated her father. She thought about the way he’d tricked and humiliated her in those gardens, and she thought about all the lies he’d told. All those things welled up inside her.

“I’m tired of worrying about how this is affecting my family. I am furious with that man for what he did to me, and undoubtedly what he has probably done to other women.”

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m shaking with fury. How dare he hurt my family and me? I want him brought down to his knees.”

“Consider it done, Angeline. I promise you, I’ll see him literally brought to his knees.”



Two days later

Everyone had gathered for a walk. Bianca attached a leash to Hercules. Angeline bent down to the dog and said, “Sit.”

Hercules licked her hand.

The marquess strolled by and scoffed.

Colin laughed and then a knock sounded. He walked toward the foyer and saw Ames handing over coin to a man bringing the post. When the butler shut the door, he looked at the addresses and held them out to Colin. “My lord, you have two urgent letters from London.”

He suspected who had written them, but he would say nothing in front of the others. Colin exchanged a long look with his father. Then he said, “Please go on ahead with the walk, everyone. I will join you after I have dealt with a business matter.” He bowed and hurried up the stairs.



Colin gritted his teeth. He had to be strong for Angeline, even though he might have to read disgusting and false rumors about her. Better him than her. But he also had to gather as many supporters as possible to attest to her good character. It was a daunting prospect, but he’d sworn to clear her name, if at all possible.

Dear Colin,

You will never believe the lies that Brentmoor is now spreading. I’ve kept silent at the club until I am able to consult further with you. Of course, I wish to abide by the lady’s wishes first and foremost. I also want to prevent fanning the flames higher, but Brentmoor’s return has added fresh fuel to the firestorm. He is spreading coin everywhere now that he has inherited property. In addition, he is drowning himself in strong drink and claiming that Lady Angeline has spread lies about him! He claims that she had already cried off when he and Lady Cunningham were discovered at that ball. Furthermore, he is reportedly telling everyone that it was Lady A’s idea to go out into the dark gardens. Can you believe it? The man is all but suggesting that she seduced him!

“Good Lord,” Colin muttered. “I’ll kill the bastard.” He took a deep breath and continued reading Harry’s letter.

It would be laughable, but he paints her as shameless and without moral restraint.

The two main problems aside from the fiend himself are that the stories are spreading like wildfire in the scandal sheets and clubs, because they are of a salacious nature and because other men saw Brentmoor with his hands on her in a poorly lit garden. Forgive me for being blunt, but I do not want it to come as a surprise at a bad time.

Colin had to pause a moment. He knew the fiend had tricked her and purposely exposed her, but it was still difficult to read. He gritted his teeth and continued on.

Doubtless he planned it that way and probably has a disgusting perversion for exposing himself with any unfortunate female he tricks. There are many who have taken a disgust of Brentmoor, but they hesitate to publicly denounce him because they do not wish to be involved.

However, as my mother said, anyone with a conscience will lend support to a cause when someone, particularly a mistreated lady, is maligned. In order to clear Lady A’s name, it will be necessary to gather as many gentlemen and ladies who are willing to support her and her family. I cannot assure you that the plan to restore her reputation will work, but I do believe it is worth the effort. Bellingham is standing at the ready. His influence will make an enormous difference. Send word when you intend to travel to London.

P.S. For what it is worth, my mother suggests marriage to a wealthy and titled gentleman would do the trick, but you know females always think marriage is the answer to all of life’s problems.

Colin blew out his breath. Now he knew it was worse than he’d expected, but he was determined to vindicate her honor and see Brentmoor brought to his knees.

He opened the next letter, which was considerably shorter and to the point. Colin would have recognized Bellingham’s style anywhere.

Colin,

To put it bluntly, Brentmoor is no better than a sewer rat. It infuriates me to know that an innocent lady has been vilified by those who ought to know better. For now, it is necessary to concentrate on turning the tide for Lady A.

I wish to be there the day you blacken Brentmoor’s eyes and break his nose. Harry has given me the particulars about how this happened. I am startled that Wycoff should fall for Brentmoor’s lies, but I understand the fiend is like a charismatic snake and has fleeced more than one man out of his money with tales of his underserved misfortune at the hands of his sire. He has also demanded money from the fathers of ladies he’s meddled with, and most have paid to keep him from ruining their daughter’s reputations. I’ve investigated the man’s activities and discovered he has more than a few victims. Clearly it is for the good of all society to expose this man for his evil schemes. You may count on my support. I assure you I have more than a few friends and acquaintances who will stand behind Lady A.

P.S. Laura suggests you marry the lady posthaste and says you will be much happier once you are a married man. Do forgive me for including her opinions, but she insisted. Laura is with child again and frankly not always rational. I have found it best just to agree.


Colin counted himself a lucky man to have loyal friends. He huffed remembering Angeline’s horrified reaction to the story of how he and Harry met Bellingham. They’d had some amusing times at White’s last spring.

A tap sounded at the door. Colin answered and was more than a little surprised to see his father. “Come in.”

“Thank you. I see you’ve been reading your letters.”

“Did you need something, Father?”

“No, but I’m fairly certain your friends wrote to you with news about Brentmoor and advice about Lady Angeline.”

He sighed. “Have a seat.”

“Your expression leads me to believe it’s even worse than you thought.”

“Read the letters. You’ll see the details. I warn you, it’s bad.”

His father removed his spectacles from his inner coat pocket and read both letters without comment. “It comes as no surprise that there have been other victims. Obviously, Brentmoor is adept at winning over the sympathies of others and then taking advantage at just the right moment.”

“He has to be stopped,” Colin said. “No lady should be treated in such a revolting manner.”

“I agree,” the marquess said. “When will you travel to London?”

“I’ll stay until Wycoff and his family members depart.”

The marquess’s brows rose. “That is surprising. I thought this would be the perfect excuse for you to speed away and kick up your heels in London again. I was sure the lures of actresses, lightskirts, and gaming hells would tempt you.”

He smiled a little. “I have my reasons for staying.”

“Angeline?” the marquess said.

“She lent her expertise and was supportive of my claim to Sommerall.”

“I see,” the marquess said. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. Oh, and by the by, I could not help noticing the ladies advised you to marry Lady Angeline. I found it rather amusing, given that the pair of you have been at odds forever.”

He said nothing. If he married her, she would be able to attend some society entertainments, but it wasn’t enough. Worse, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to marry him. He meant to change her mind, but first she must take her rightful place as Lady Angeline and then God willing, she would consent to marry him and become Lady Ravenshire. If he was really lucky, she would make frequent private appearances as a famous courtesan in the boudoir. The idea of marriage was becoming more enticing by the day.

“I’m sorry about Sommerall,” the marquess said. “I’ve wracked my brains trying to figure out a way to refuse to sell it to Faraday, but I’ve yet to come up with an honorable solution.”

“Thank you for trying,” he said. “I take the blame. I took Sommerall for granted. It might have been mine years ago if I’d made efforts to show I deserved it, but I didn’t. It’s a lesson I won’t soon forget.”

The marquess opened the door and then looked back at him. “Son, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Carry on,” the marquess said, and closed the door.

Colin sighed. He would never be able to take possession of Sommerall now. In the light of day, the secret engagement seemed a rather cold business. At the time he’d suggested it, they had both been desperate enough to seize upon that witless plan. But he’d grown attached to Sommerall and was sorry his quest to possess the property hadn’t worked out. He’d lost it forever, but he would carry the memory of making love to Angeline that stormy night for the rest of his life. She was an incredible woman, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her get away. She had a big heart and a saucy retort always at the ready.

He wanted to clear her name completely and freely, but it seemed rather daunting. He had no illusions about the difficulties she faced, but he knew how much it would mean to her to attend her sister’s debut. Perhaps at the very least, she could attend quietly with support from a handful of true friends.

She should be able to choose her spouse rather than have to settle for an arranged marriage, but it was complicated. He did not want to lose her, but he feared he might be too late. He might have to do something drastic, although he wasn’t sure what that might be. Angeline deserved a proper wedding, and God knew he would be ready to settle down after he used his fists on Brentmoor.



Sunday morning

Colin tugged on his cravat and ducked his head in his father’s study. “Oh, good, you’re not working.”

“Is this another special occasion?” the marquess said. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning. I expected you to be in bed after a nightlong debauch.”

“Alas there is a dearth of debauches in the country, so I’ll have to settle for church.”

“God save us.”

“May I come in?”

The marquess regarded him over his spectacles. “Yes, of course. Be seated.”

Colin slouched in the cross-framed armchair. “Is Margaret really that strict about the Sabbath?”

“Oh, yes. Now, I’ll give you a tip about women since it appears your friends’ mothers and wives are urging you to leap into matrimony. Never lie to a woman. They can sniff it at fifty paces.”

“So, did Margaret catch you not working?”

“I always knew you were clever. What is on your mind, son?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, two things.”

“Start with one,” the marquess said.

“I was thinking of looking for a property in the neighborhood.”

The marquess put his hand behind his ear. “Repeat that please before I fall off my chair.”

“You heard me. I wondered if you have any recommendations.”

The marquess set his pen aside and crossed his arms on the desk. “Are you unwell?”

Colin laughed. “No.”

The marquess drew out a quizzing glass from his pocket and peered at his son. “Hmmm. I don’t see any spots or fevered cheeks. But something tells me you are suffering from a malady known to many young men. Could it be you are in love?”

Colin’s ears got a little warm. “I haven’t asked—not properly.”

The marquess dropped the quizzing glass. “Do I want to hear this story?”

Colin shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“Do you plan to make a proper proposal to Lady Angeline?”

“Yes, but she turned me down.”

“Botched it, I suppose.”

He nodded. “How amenable do you think Wycoff would be?”

“Well, he might try to shoot you, but he’s a worse shot than I am. The odds are in your favor.”

“Ah, that is reassuring,” Colin said.

The marquess sighed. “I think the most significant question is whether Lady Angeline is receptive to your proposal. I know the two of you have been in one another’s pockets, but we both know she has endured a rough time. I’ve no doubt she will come about and be the toast of the ton once again. But marrying and participating in the London season may be too much for her all at once. I don’t know. Margaret and the duchess would have you rush to the altar. However, you know Lady Angeline better than anybody, and I think the two of you are especially fortunate that you have had the opportunity to really know one another before the marriage.”

“It was purposeful,” he said. “She suggested it.”


“Do you love her?”

He swallowed. “Very much.”

“And?”

“We’ve had a spat or two, but to our credit we reconcile well enough.”

“Ah, yes, reconciliation.” The marquess rose, walked around his desk, and clapped Colin’s shoulder. “I can’t think of a better wife for you, son. No doubt the two of you will have many spats, reconcile frequently, and present me with my first grandchild within nine months.”

Colin laughed. “Thank you, Father.”

“Do you plan to journey to London next week?”

“Yes.”

“Your friends are prepared and the plan is solid?”

“Yes, everything is in order.”

“Son, I’m rather fond of you, though I’m not certain why.”

Colin laughed.

“I will give you a bit of advice. Beat the bloody hell out of the bastard, but don’t kill him. His foul blood isn’t worth having on your hands. When it’s over, have him hauled off to a press-gang. He’ll wish he were dead and that’s punishment enough.”

Colin nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

“Take every precaution, son. You have a beautiful young woman who will be waiting anxiously for your return and so will I. Finish this nasty business once and for all. Then we will celebrate upon your return. While you’re in London, you might consider purchasing a special license.”

Colin nodded. “I appreciate all of your advice, particularly the reminder for the special license. I would very much like to wed her upon my return.”

“You might propose first,” the marquess said.

“Yes, on bended knee this time.”

“Do I want to hear about the other time?”

Colin shook his head. “Probably not.”

“I love you, son. Go defend her honor, and then come home in one piece. I’ll see what I can do about finding you a property.”



That evening

The marquess did his neighborly duty and invited Reverend Quimby and his wife to dinner. Mrs. Quimby once again regaled everyone with minute descriptions of Harwell, Baron Overton’s property. Angeline politely conversed with the reverend, but she was anxious. Her father had announced they would stay an additional week at Deerfield and gave no other explanation. Earlier this afternoon, her father, the marquess, and Colin had gone into the study. They had remained there for several hours. Angeline was very concerned. She feared that Colin would challenge Brentmoor to a duel. All afternoon, she had waited for an opportunity to speak to Colin, but she’d ended up reading to the ladies while they stitched this afternoon, and there had been no chance to have a private conversation with Colin. She was anxious and hoped that they would be able to talk in the drawing room, because she needed reassurance that he would not duel.

When dinner ended, the ladies withdrew to the drawing room for tea and stitching. Penny played “Robin Adair” and the twins sang. For once, Angeline focused on stitching, hoping to evade a “coze” with Mrs. Quimby.

“Lady Angeline, you have been especially quiet this evening,” Mrs. Quimby said.

“My thoughts have been elsewhere, Mrs. Quimby. Do forgive me. How are you and all of your family?”

“We are all happy and well. Reverend Quimby received a letter from Baron Overton a few days ago.”

“Ah, letters are always welcome.” Angeline exchanged a smile with Margaret. Clearly Mrs. Quimby was ready to launch into her favorite topic.

“Of course, all is prospering at Harwell House,” Mrs. Quimby said. “I am only sorry that the reverend and I missed Baron Overton’s dinner party. But I have the letter here. It will only take a moment to find it in my reticule.”

Angeline met her mother’s resigned gaze. She hoped there was only one letter.

“Ah, here it is,” Mrs. Quimby said, smoothing out the paper. “Yes, Baron Overton writes that he was gratified to invite the most illustrious guests who are new to the neighborhood, Lord and Lady Brentmoor.” She paused. “Are you acquainted with the family, Lady Angeline?”

Angeline hesitated for a moment, and then she pulled the embroidery thread. Mrs. Quimby could not have known that the mention in the letter would cause great consternation.

Margaret had a gift for maneuvering guests who overstepped the bounds. “Mrs. Quimby, do you have friends or relations near Baron Overton?”

“Unfortunately, no. If I did, I assure you, I would be in raptures. The thought of Mr. Quimby and me in the same neighborhood as Baron Overton is one I sometimes entertain.”

“How delightful,” Margaret said.

Now that Margaret had distracted Mrs. Quimby, Angeline released a sigh of relief.

“We will journey there at the end of the month. I do hope to make the acquaintance of Lord and Lady Brentmoor. I have heard she is a great beauty,” Mrs. Quimby said. “Is that true, Duchess?”

“I do not consider beauty a recommendation for making acquaintances,” the duchess said. “Character is the important factor.”

Angeline thought that Mrs. Quimby could not fail to notice the duchess’s chilly reply.

“Oh, to be sure,” Mrs. Quimby said, “but one cannot help noticing great beauty. I wondered if you had an opinion of her looks.”

The duchess lowered her embroidery. “I do not.”

Angeline was certain her mother’s curt reply would quell the woman.

“It is a shame that Lord Brentmoor lost his esteemed father, and of course, his grief must have been large,” Mrs. Quimby continued, “but a fortune will always be welcome, to be sure.” She laughed.

Angeline thought the woman exceedingly vulgar.

Margaret turned her attention to Mrs. Quimby. “Allow me to pour you another dish of tea.”

“That is so kind of you, but I’m not thirsty. Lady Angeline, you did not say whether or not you had met Lord and Lady Brentmoor?”

Unfortunately, the reverend’s wife was not the sort of woman who sensed undercurrents in conversations. Again, Angeline chose to ignore the question.

Margaret rose. “Duchess, let me bring you another cup of tea.”

Angeline noticed her mother’s lips were drawn tightly. Poor Mama to have to suffer Mrs. Quimby’s prattle about Brentmoor.

Mrs. Quimby continued, undeterred. “Lady Angeline, I believe you did not hear my question about Lord and Lady Brentmoor.”

Angeline smoothed out her embroidery. “Mrs. Quimby, the persons you mentioned are not friends of mine.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure Baron Overton would be glad to make the introductions—”

Margaret approached Mrs. Quimby. “Unfortunately, Baron Overton is not here to perform the introductions. May I get you a second cup of tea?”

“Oh, no, I’m perfectly satisfied, though I do thank you. Well, I hope you will have a chance to meet Lord and Lady Brentmoor during the spring season in London, Lady Angeline,” Mrs. Quimby said.

Margaret leaned forward and touched Mrs. Quimby’s arm. “I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Quimby. Would you be willing to play for us? I’m sure we would all enjoy it.”

Margaret spoke to the girls briefly. They left the drawing room, and their voices receded.

Mrs. Quimby prattled on about what an honor it was to be asked to play. Margaret managed to urge her across the room and onto the bench. After setting up the music sheets, Margaret walked away as quickly as possible. She smiled at Mrs. Quimby and turned to Angeline. “I am sorry.”


Angeline sighed. “She has no idea her words are unwelcome, Margaret.”

“My head aches from listening to her,” the duchess said. “Her manners are deplorable.”

“Your headache will be the perfect excuse,” Margaret said. “I will be concerned about contagion when the gentlemen arrive and will ask Chadwick to order the carriage immediately to take them home.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Angeline said under her breath. “I do not want Mama to suffer any more talk of that fiend and his wife.”

“My concerns are for you, Angeline,” the duchess said.

“I hope the gentlemen are prompt,” Margaret said.

When Mrs. Quimby finished, she turned. “Would one of you like to exhibit? I do not wish to be greedy.” She laughed.

“Please, continue,” Margaret said. “We are all enjoying your performance.”

“She is blind to the feelings of others,” the duchess said. “Margaret, you will have to take her in hand. She will cause problems, because her husband is the vicar, meaning one cannot simply ignore her, which is impossible anyway.”

“I have tried repeatedly to deter her,” Margaret said.

“You are too gentle,” the duchess said. “A woman with her nature only understands the stark truth. You see the way she ignores suggestions, other than to show off at the pianoforte.”

When the gentlemen returned to the drawing room, Angeline caught Colin’s eye. He escorted her over to the window seat. “You look a bit distressed,” he said under his breath.

“Mrs. Quimby is oblivious. I will tell you soon. Margaret is speaking to your father now.”

“Oh, dear,” the duchess said. “I am not at all well.”

Mrs. Quimby halted. “Oh, my. Perhaps another cup of tea would work.”

Margaret hurried to the duchess. “Oh, dear, you are looking pale. I hope there is no contagion. Chadwick, please have the carriage brought round.”

He looked a bit taken aback, until Margaret said, “Chadwick, please do not delay. I could not be easy if Mrs. Quimby and Reverend Quimby remain when there is a possible contagion.”

“Ah,” the marquess said, lifting his chin. “I agree. We cannot expose Reverend and Mrs. Quimby. Let me ring for Ames to arrange matters.”

“I’m sure it is nothing,” Mrs. Quimby said, turning to her husband. “Do you not agree?”

Margaret took Mrs. Quimby’s arm. “I would never forgive myself if either you or Mr. Quimby fell ill. In fact, it is quite cold out this evening, but there are woolen rugs in the carriage, and you will be comfortable on your journey.”

Nearly half an hour elapsed before Margaret and the marquess returned to the drawing room.

“That woman does not know when to stop talking,” the marquess said. “I can’t very well ignore the reverend, but I cannot abide his wife.”

“Subtlety is lost on her,” Margaret said. “Be glad you were not here, Chadwick. It was a most distressing performance on the part of Mrs. Quimby.”

After Margaret described the events, the marquess groaned. “The woman is completely unaware of others’ feelings.”

“Chadwick, something must be done,” Margaret said.

“Oh, no,” the marquess said. “I’m not stepping in that mud puddle.”

Angeline sagged against the sofa. “She is unbearable. One hates to wound her, but apparently no one has ever curbed her prattling.”

“I very much doubt she will change at this late date,” Colin said. “Father, I suggest that you invite them only for tea.”

“We’ve set a precedent,” the marquess said. “It can’t be avoided now.”

“Lord Chadwick,” Angeline said, “perhaps you could suggest to the reverend that he include some examples in his sermon of how we learn more from listening than speaking. Then when Reverend and Mrs. Quimby call, you can always bring up what a wonderful sermon it was and how he and Mrs. Quimby are such wonderful examples. Every time Mrs. Quimby prattles, bring up the subject of your favorite sermon.”

“Excellent idea, Angeline,” Margaret said.

The marquess’s eyes gleamed. “Clever, Lady Angeline.

“Well, I’m for bed,” the marquess said. “It has been a long day.”

Everyone else agreed. Soon, Angeline and Colin found themselves alone.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think they planned this,” Angeline said.

He cupped her face. “I’m sorry for the disturbing evening.”

“We weathered it,” she said.

He kissed her gently. “I have business in London, and I leave tomorrow.”

Angeline laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re planning to call him out.”

“Something must be done,” Colin said.

She was so afraid of losing him. “He may not even be there,” she said.

“Bellingham sent word. He is luring him.”

“Oh, God,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve nothing to worry about,” he said. “All the plans are in place.”

“What if something goes wrong?” she said.

“It won’t,” he said.

“No, Colin. It’s not worth risking your life. Do you know what it would do to me if something happened to you?”

“I know this is hard, Angeline, but I promise that all will be well very soon. I won’t risk my life. I am my father’s only heir, after all, and I do want to live. There is so much I wish to share with you. When I return, I will be expecting your kisses.”

“Please be careful. I could not bear losing you.”

“All will be well,” he said. “I promise.”

She looked up at him. “I wish you would not go.”

“I know, but I will not rest until he is made to pay for what he did. When it is all over, I will return to you and demand kisses.”



The day after Colin left, the duke requested a meeting with Angeline after breakfast in the marquess’s study. Angeline’s stomach clenched. She’d missed her father so much and did not know what to expect from him. He had only spoken warmly to her that one time at Sommerall, and he’d ignored her for the most part afterward. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and walked inside the study.

Her father stood and made her a very formal bow.

“Angeline, my closest friend in all the world gave me a dressing-down. I am doubly ashamed of having failed you.”

“Papa?” His red-rimmed eyes alarmed her. “Are you ill?”

“No, but I despise myself for letting you down. I should have booted that bastard out of our house immediately. I let him take me in, and I could not even look you in the eyes because I failed you. If I had been a better father, he would not have hurt my little girl.”

She ran into his arms. “Papa, he played us both off each other. We didn’t know until it was t-too late.”

“I cannot change my mistakes, but I beg you to forgive me.”

“I love you, Papa,” she said. Oh, she had missed him so much.

“I also am ashamed because I made it seem that I favored Penny over you. I didn’t mean to do it. I just felt a responsibility to her. She was so lonely after you and your mother went to Paris. If not for your little sister, I think I might have gone mad. I missed you and your mother so very much.”

“We will be a whole family again, Papa.”


“I have much to mend,” he said, “but I would very much enjoy playing chess with you again.”

“Thank you, Papa. I would appreciate the distraction. I am very worried about Colin.”

“He will come home safe and sound,” the duke said. “I have it on the best of authority that he has someone he wishes to see as soon as this business is over.”

She hugged her father hard. “You have made me very happy.”

“Now, shall we play?”

She took his arm. “I do plan to trounce you.”

“I will give you no quarter, Daughter, but you may try.”





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