A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 11

  Margaret followed Charlotte up to her bedchamber where her friend squealed with delight as Margaret pulled the pink silk from the portmanteau.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Charlotte declared. “I can hardly believe it’s mine.”

  “The color is perfect for you.” Margaret studied it with a critical eye as Charlotte held it before her, noting how the shade complemented her creamy complexion.

  Margaret assisted her to remove her gown then lifted the new design over her head and tugged it into place. She walked in a slow circle around Charlotte to adjust the waist and sleeves, pleased overall with the fit. “A few alterations and it will be perfect.”

  “It already is,” Charlotte declared. Her gaze softened as she looked in the cheval glass. “James will like it as much as I do.”

  “You mean he’ll like helping you remove it,” Margaret teased as she eyed the straightness of the hem.

  “Margaret!” Charlotte’s cheeks flushed brightly.

  “You forget that I have two sisters who are madly in love with their husbands.” Margaret smiled as she looked up at Charlotte. “They speak frankly about the physical side of love.”

  Margaret had thought they exaggerated until her kisses with Edward. Now she had to wonder. Even the thought of him gave her the urge to fan her warm face.

  “I will be blunt and admit I cannot wait for our wedding night,” Charlotte admitted with a grin.

  The memory of being in Edward’s arms filled Margaret. Of the way he’d looked at her as if no one else mattered. Of his lips on hers. Of how she’d responded. Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk about wedding nights.

  “I know what I need to adjust,” Margaret advised. “Let us remove it, and I will have it returned to you soon.”

  Though she’d intended to remain with Charlotte until her carriage returned for her, this was her chance to speak with Edward, if he was home, to advise him about Lady Maria. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Charlotte if she knew his whereabouts when her friend would surely wonder why Margaret wanted to know, so she held her silence.

  After assisting Charlotte to remove the gown, Margaret folded it carefully and placed it into the portmanteau then bid Charlotte goodbye, hoping she wouldn’t walk her down the stairs.

  Within a few moments, Margaret stood in the entrance hall, surprised that Gordon or a footman wasn’t at the door. She set the portmanteau on the floor and waited another moment before the lure of the study door down the corridor drew her. Surely she was enough of a family friend that she didn’t need to be announced.

  Yet still, she found herself walking quietly down the corridor as if afraid she’d be discovered, her heart quickening as she knocked on the closed door.

  “Enter.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed, wondering why she was so nervous. Then she shook her head. The sooner she mentioned the rumors about Lady Maria the better. In truth, Margaret was obligated to do so since she’d been the one to suggest her to Edward.

  Armed with a sense of duty, she opened the door and looked inside, her gaze latching on Edward who sat at his desk before a bank of mullioned windows. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Edward’s dark head snapped up and his eyes met hers. “Margaret?” He rose from his chair slowly, his brow crinkled, as if he had difficulty comprehending her presence.

  She could only blink at her immediate physical reaction to his tall, handsome form. His blue eyes held on her. Heat flooded every inch of her, including unmentionable places. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and her palms were damp inside her gloves. Good heavens. What was becoming of her?

  Chapter Eleven

  Edward stared at Margaret, surprise stealing his thoughts. Surely it was surprise that did so and not the lady herself. Yet he found himself drinking in her presence, joy spiraling through him at the unexpected sight of her.

  As always, her attire was perfect. She wore a striped muslin that added to her fresh appearance. Her style wasn’t overly done but elegant and classic—like a wild rose, fresh and vibrant, as opposed to the hothouse variety.

  The delicate flush in her cheeks hinted at a shyness that was unusual, considering her normal boldness. Her hesitation appealed to him more than it should and reminded him how she’d looked after their last kiss.

  Now, her eyes were wide and dark as she watched him, surprise in their depths, making him wonder at her thoughts. Was she as shocked by the attraction between them as he was?

  Then he realized he had yet to answer her question. No wonder she stared at him so.

  “Not at all.” He gestured toward his desk. “I was just reviewing some reports. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” he asked as he stepped around the desk toward her.

  “I enjoyed lemonade with Charlotte and your mother along with a few other ladies earlier.” She walked forward slowly, glancing about as if curious.

  He followed her gaze, realizing he hadn’t changed much in the study since his father’s death. He supposed he had yet to feel like it was truly his space as if his father might return at any moment and berate him for sitting behind the desk.

  Perhaps the time had come to claim it as his own. He didn’t want his father’s shadow hanging over him here when it already did in other areas of his life.

  “How nice,” he said at last. To think she’d made the effort to seek him out pleased him. He gestured for her to join him at the settee before the fire. Though the day was a fine one, the fire took off the chill that lingered in the room.

  “I was hoping for a word with you.” The slight pucker of her brow had him moving closer until they stood facing each other before the fire.

  “Is something amiss?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid I heard rather distressing news.”

  “What might that be?” He tensed. Had his mother or Charlotte mentioned something they had yet to tell him?

  “It seems Lady Maria is an heiress no more.”

  Lady Maria? He scoured his scattered thoughts to place the name, finally coming upon her identity. “Her fortunes have turned?”

  “Yes, at least, her father’s have. My apologies for misdirecting you.”

  Edward held back a scowl. The fact that Margaret had only come in search of him to deliver the news was disappointing. For a moment, he’d thought she had sought him out simply because she wanted to see him. Of course, that wasn’t the case.

  He hadn’t spent any further time with Lady Maria, though she was near the top of his very short list of candidates. In truth, he’d managed to push his search to the back of his mind, easily able to convince himself that other matters needed his attention. His continuing reluctance to select a lady suitable for a wife was a vexing problem he would soon need to address.

  But not when Margaret stood before him.

  “I’m sorry to hear it.” And if he were honest, somewhat relieved. He truly needed to deal with the way he was dragging his feet on the issue.

  “As was I.” She shook her head. “I thought she would make a fine wife.”

  Edward forced himself to relax his jaw, which had clenched at her remark. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to be deliberately irksome. “Are you certain of the information?”

  “I suppose verifying it would be wise.” Her lips twisted as if she considered how to do so. “Do you know of anyone you could ask?”

  “I will make some inquiries.” But at the moment, he couldn’t remember who the lady’s father was. Staring at Margaret’s rosy lips rattled his thoughts.

  “Excellent. I will leave the matter in your capable hands.” Her eyes narrowed briefly. “I’m not certain who else you should consider instead. I will have to think on it.”

  Edward didn’t want to talk about Lady Maria or anyone else. Not when the notion of marrying held little appeal. “Have you been well?”

  “Yes. And you?”

  “Quite well.” He searched for another topic—anything to keep her there longer. “Your father?”


  “As good as we can expect. At least there have been no additional issues like the last one.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that. How are Charlotte’s gowns coming along?” Good heavens. Now he’d resorted to speaking of clothing.

  “Excellent. We just completed another fitting on one. She looks lovely in it if I do say so myself.” Margaret’s face lit up with a mix of pride and pleasure.

  “I’m pleased to hear that.” He appreciated the sparkle of excitement in her expression, much preferring it over the dim worry in their depths he’d witnessed of late.

  “Will I see you at the Osterly Ball?” he asked.

  “Hmm. I haven’t yet decided. Annabelle and I are in the midst of a scheme to convince our mother to take a few days away.”

  “Oh? Do you think that possible?” He imagined that such an occurrence rarely happened given her father’s condition.

  “I remain hopeful, but only time will tell. I have yet to persuade her that she’ll be the better for it. She insists she will only worry if she can’t see for herself how Father is doing.”

  “Doesn’t she do so whether or not she’s with him?”

  “Excellent point.” She nodded. “I will use that argument when I next raise the subject. Besides, Caroline and Aberland will be available should a problem arise.” She gently bit her lower lip. Was she concerned their assistance might be needed?

  “I have no doubt you will be able to deal with any issues that arise. As clever and caring as you are, you will find a solution.”

  Her slow smile suggested she appreciated his vote of confidence. “I hope so. Though I confess that last spell was highly concerning.”

  “Even more so, I imagine, when the possibility of dealing with it on your own for a few days could occur.”

  “Indeed.” Her expression dimmed again as if something more bothered her.

  Edward waited with the hope she’d share whatever it was. If it was in his power to aid her, he would. He hoped she knew that.

  Instead, she offered a smile—forced and less than convincing—her gaze no longer meeting his. “I’m sure everything will work itself out.”

  Disappointment struck again at the realization that she didn’t trust him enough to confide her thoughts.

  “I should see if my carriage has arrived.” She glanced at the door only to turn back. “I will certainly let you know as soon as another potential bride comes to mind. Unless you already mentioned the issue to Charlotte or your mother?”

  “Not as of yet. They are busy with the wedding.” The excuse was both valid and convenient. He wouldn’t be able to use it much longer.

  “Of course. Then I’ll give further consideration as to who else might be of interest.” She hesitated. “Do let me know what you discover about Lady Maria’s situation.”

  “I will.” A sudden frustration swept through him. He wanted Margaret to acknowledge the attraction they shared. Not for a moment did he believe it was one-sided. Yet she pursued potential wives for him like a dog with a bone, never relinquishing the topic for long. While he knew a relationship between them was impossible, it stung to think that it never seemed to cross her mind.

  He clamped his lips shut to keep from continuing this ridiculous conversation, but the words escaped anyway. “I hope to see you at the ball so we can discuss our findings.” Was he truly reduced to using his search for a bride as a reason to speak with Margaret?

  For a brief moment, he imagined he saw her dark eyes light with anticipation, suggesting he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed their conversations, regardless of the subject.

  Then the moment was gone.

  She smiled politely and bid him goodbye, leaving him alone with only the hint of her gardenia fragrance to keep him company.

  He closed his eyes and breathed it in, appreciating the scent. With a sigh, he returned to his reports. But his thoughts remained on Margaret.

  ~*~

  It wasn’t until late the following morning that Edward managed to reset his mind—and resolve—to the task of finding a bride. Then again, it had taken that long for Margaret’s sweet fragrance to fade from his study.

  In part, he had her to thank for his improved focus. Seeing her once more was a reminder that she wasn’t an heiress and therefore not a possibility for a wife. Not that she had any interest in marrying him.

  He quickly snuffed out the longing before it took hold. Feelings—including his and hers—couldn’t be part of his decision-making. He had too many others who relied on him, including future generations, to think of his own emotions.

  Several days ago, he’d found a reputable jeweler eager to buy the necklace and earrings set which provided more than enough for Aberland’s trading venture. Making the investment earlier that morning had given Edward a sense of control and optimism, and he relished both.

  He’d also had another meeting with his man of business to advise him of his recent gambling winnings, pointedly ignoring his obvious disapproval. Edward didn’t consider his gambling overly perilous since he limited what he was willing to risk. If he lost that, he walked away. But he’d already paid for the roof and fence repairs his tenants needed along with a few other items. That was another win as far as he was concerned.

  It was important to him that the tenants know he was not like his father. He wouldn’t ignore their needs but rather intended to work with them to improve the properties. That was one area where he and Mr. Ravenby agreed.

  When Gordon delivered the post to him just before luncheon, Edward delayed him. “Gordon, don’t we have a few pieces of furniture in the attic?” He was certain he remembered seeing some when he ventured up there in his younger days.

  “Yes, my lord. Is there something in particular that you’re needing?”

  Edward glanced around his study. “Why don’t you accompany me as I want to change some items in here.”

  Within the hour, the footmen, with Gordon’s supervision, had exchanged the red wingback chairs his father had liked with two dark brown leather ones. Edward had also found a globe on a pedestal he vaguely remembered his grandfather having, along with a different clock for his desk.

  He nodded with satisfaction as he admired the changes. “Much better.”

  His mother glided into the room, only to pause as she glanced about in surprise. “Making changes, dear?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t think she’d mind but waited to see her reaction.

  She smiled with a nod of approval. “It looks much better.” Her gaze met his. “More like you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “In fact, you’ve inspired me. Perhaps it’s time to change a few other rooms in the house as well.”

  His father had never wanted her to vary the décor, claiming he preferred everything the way it was. Edward wasn’t certain whether it was because of the lack of funds he’d hidden from his family or one more way for him to manage his wife.

  Edward tended to believe the latter. Watching his mother find her wings in the months since his death had been a pleasure, and he intended to encourage her to continue to do so.

  “The attic contains a treasure of items,” he advised.

  “I’d forgotten that.” She turned to Gordon. “Would you accompany me?”

  “Of course, my lady.” The butler nodded with a hint of a smile.

  His mother turned to face Edward. “I came to ask if you were attending the Osterly Ball this evening.”

  “Yes, I plan to.” He needed to continue his search for a wife. If he could discover whether the rumor about Lady Maria’s father’s financial downturn was true, all the better. Unbidden, the image of Margaret filled his mind. Would she be there? He sighed, admitting to himself that she was the true reason behind his plan to attend.

  “Excellent. I intend to as well as are Redmond and Charlotte.”

  “Then it will be a family affair.” Though he would’ve preferred none of them be there since he hadn’t yet mentioned his intent to find a bride, he would just have to be carefu
l. Besides, he liked that his mother and Charlotte were moving away from mourning to attend more events.

  “Edward, I’m pleased you’ve made these changes,” she said with another glance about the room. “I look forward to seeing what other changes you make in your life.” Then with a smile, she was gone, with Gordon trailing behind her.

  Guilt sat heavily on his shoulders that he hadn’t told her the biggest news of all—he planned to marry soon. His father had made a point of telling her as little as possible. He had preferred to hold all the cards as if that gave him more control.

  Edward supposed it had. Information was a form of power. But it wasn’t as if he intended to propose to anyone soon. His mother already had enough to worry over with Charlotte’s upcoming wedding and the changes that would cause in the household. Lady Wynn also knew of the debt her husband had left. Surely those issues were more than enough for her to ponder.

  In all honesty, he wasn’t certain how she’d take the news. Would she embrace it or wish their lives could continue as they were before more upheaval was thrust upon her? At any rate, he would certainly share his plan once he had someone in mind. That would be more than enough time for them all to adjust to the idea.

  Margaret had been right in one regard—it was important that he didn’t select just anyone for a bride. The woman needed to fit in with his family.

  If only—

  He shook his head to halt the thought before he finished it. Wishes were something he could ill afford. He needed to remain focused and proceed with intent in every aspect of his life. Emotions had no place in his world.

  Yet he couldn’t help a pang of doubt as he thought once more of his father. Lord Wynn had allowed himself few emotions—mostly anger and discontent—and look where that had gotten him.

  Edward stepped close to the globe and with a flick of his finger, spun it, something he remembered doing in his youth. While his future might not be quite what he hoped, it was still his to make. He needed to find peace with what had to be done and move forward, reaching for happiness when possible. Never would he make his family miserable the way his father had.

  ~*~