Romancing The Rogue (The Rogue Chronicles Book 1) Read online

She stared into the shadows that enveloped him in the darkness at the edge of the garden, confused as to what had just happened and by the relief filling her.

  ~*~

  Richard strode across the terrace toward Miss Gold, suspicion quickening his pace. Why had the duke left so abruptly unless he had something to hide? The situation mirrored the moment of Maria’s betrayal, causing flashes of the past to mingle with the present. For a brief moment, Maria’s dark hair took the place of Miss Gold’s blonde locks as she’d stood in Le Sournois’s terrible embrace.

  How many times had he been shown that women weren’t to be trusted? From his mother’s lies and unfaithfulness, to the woman who had fooled both him and Dumond.

  “What did he say to you?” he demanded.

  “What?” Even in the dim torchlight, he could see color rise in her cheeks, her pupils dilate. Obvious signs of guilt.

  “Did he pass something to you?”

  “I don’t know of what you’re speaking.” Miss Gold stepped back but Richard followed.

  “Tell me everything he said.”

  “My conversation with the duke is no business of yours.” She turned to go, but he reached for her arms to hold her still, determined to have answers despite the distraction of her lilac scent or the appeal of her lithe curves.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what he said.” Anger fueled him—from the past as much as from this moment. It was all he could do not to shake her to obtain the answer. “I heard what you said earlier. Spying is a lucrative business.”

  She stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “I was jesting.”

  Before he could force the truth from her as he’d failed to do with Maria, voices penetrated the fog that filled his mind.

  Miss Gold’s gasp had him glancing over his shoulder to see several people standing near the garden door.

  “Caroline?” The lady in front took a halting step forward.

  “Mother. I—” Miss Gold’s attention shifted to him then back to the lady.

  The weight of the situation struck Richard with one blow. The accusing stares of the woman and her companions, including the Marchioness of Southby, the hostess of the ball, made it clear what they thought they saw.

  He still held Miss Gold by the arms. It no doubt looked like they’d been embracing when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He released her and retreated, but from the expressions of those staring at them across the terrace, he feared it was too late.

  “Aberland, perhaps you’d care to explain.” The Marchioness of Southby moved closer.

  “It was a misunderstanding.” Miss Gold’s voice shook with panic. “The earl seemed to think—” She glowered at him, clearly wanting him to join her in protesting by telling what had truly happened.

  But what could he say? That he thought she and the duke were spies and had taken a quiet moment on the terrace to share information? That would ruin far more than Miss Gold’s reputation.

  “What I mean to say is, the duke—” She gestured toward the shadows where Wayfair had disappeared.

  “Caroline.” The dismay in her mother’s voice was clear even to Richard.

  He couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the message. Her daughter being caught with the duke was obviously preferable to her being caught with him.

  “I was merely asking the lady a question,” Richard protested at last.

  “You had your hands on her,” the marchioness said.

  “Tsk. Tsk, Aberland. You were holding her,” another lady added, “alone on the terrace.”

  “He’s such a terrible rogue,” one of the other ladies whispered to the marchioness. Did she think he couldn’t hear her?

  Jaw clenched, he tried again. “Miss Gold wasn’t feeling well. I was assisting her.”

  “Truly, Aberland?” the same lady who’d just spoke asked. “That’s not an original excuse in the least.”

  The realization that his reputation as a rogue—the very one created to protect him from matchmaking mamas and their daughters—had backfired only made the situation more painful.

  “Are you all right?” Caroline’s mother asked as she came forward with the young lady with whom Miss Gold had spoken earlier.

  “Of course.” Miss Gold waved her gloved hand. “This was a moment of confusion.” She glared at him, clearly wanting him to offer more of an explanation. “Nothing untoward occurred.”

  “That’s right. Nothing at all.” He stared into the shadows, wondering if the duke watched the chaotic scene he’d left behind.

  He wanted to walk away from this ludicrous situation. But a glance at the gathering crowd spilling onto the terrace removed that option.

  “I hardly think my speaking to Miss Gold is a cause for concern.” He directed his protest toward the marchioness as she appeared to be the most outraged at the situation.

  “You were holding her.” The marchioness’s voice carried across the terrace. “What are we supposed to think?”

  A cold, sinking feeling spread through him, for he had no answer. At least not one he could share. Nor could he think of any other excuses they might accept.

  “My apologies if I caused you any distress, Miss Gold,” he offered, hoping that would suffice to unravel the preposterous situation.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t look at him.

  He turned to the marchioness, her determined expression causing the sinking feeling to harden into a tight ball of distress as he realized this was far from over.

  Damn Society and the absurd rules by which they played.

  Chapter Three

  Richard stared at the Gold residence the following afternoon, wondering how a few minutes of confusion on a terrace had led to this. He’d been certain once everyone calmed down and realized nothing happened, the situation would blow over.

  Yet here he was.

  The marchioness had been determined that no young lady would be ruined at one of her parties. Her husband, the powerful Marquis of Southby, had supported her, paying a visit to Richard’s home this morning to make certain he knew what was expected of him.

  Now here he was, calling to ask Sir Reginald’s permission to offer marriage to his daughter. He could only hope the young lady had made her wishes clear to her father and she’d refuse, allowing them to put this whole mishap behind them.

  If he thought it would do any good, he’d say a prayer, but he’d given up on such things years ago. He’d learned the only “spirit” he could rely on was one that came from a bottle and even that was temperamental.

  With a sigh at the unpleasant task ahead of him, he alighted from his carriage. Sir Reginald would surely refuse his offer. Miss Gold didn’t care for him based on his limited interaction with her. His reputation as a rogue with no money might aid him in this situation.

  As to whether Miss Gold was a spy, working with Wayfair, Richard still held his suspicions. He didn’t believe in coincidences. If it proved to be true, there would be no marriage and one more spy would be eliminated.

  After hearing her and her sister’s discussion about how lucrative spying was, then seeing Miss Gold alone with the duke, one of the three men Richard suspected of being Le Sournois, he had enough evidence to continue inquiries as to Miss Gold’s loyalty to England.

  That put her family under suspicion as well.

  Perhaps this meeting would provide him with an opportunity to gain a sense as to whether the entire family was involved and if they held loyalties to France.

  He’d heard of Sir Reginald. He’d been awarded a knighthood in his younger years for his work for the government and the war efforts, shipping food to feed the armies abroad. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t changed allegiances or that his daughter was loyal to the Crown.

  The front of the three-story red brick home with its white columns and black shutters was well-maintained. The neighborhood appeared modest. At the very least, they didn’t seem to be living ostentatiously. Yet as he made his way to the door, he noted that though the garden w
as in order, it could use some attention and the trim on the windows needed repair.

  Perhaps his own ruse of having no funds caused him to be overly observant of such things.

  The elderly butler who greeted him appeared respectable, despite the disapproving brow he raised when Richard handed him his card.

  “I’m here to see Sir Reginald.”

  “Of course, my lord. This way, please.”

  The wood surfaces in the foyer were polished to a gleaming shine, the smell of lemon lingering in the air. Richard followed the butler a short distance down the hall to a closed door.

  The servant knocked then opened the door and gestured for Richard to proceed, closing the door behind him. The library was organized, the desk’s polished surface nearly empty except for a few papers and a vase of daffodils that graced one corner.

  Sir Reginald was slighter than Richard had expected. The older gentleman stood by the window, staring out over the garden, his hands clasped behind him.

  “Good morning,” Richard said.

  He turned to look at Richard, studying him as though taking his measure. From the frown on his face, he appeared to find Richard lacking.

  “Aberland.” Unruly white hair framed his face. But it was his jade green eyes that held Richard’s attention. There was no doubt Caroline was his daughter.

  To Richard’s surprise, Sir Reginald turned back to the window, saying nothing more. If the purpose of his unwelcoming behavior was to make Richard uncomfortable, he’d succeeded.

  Richard cleared his throat, preferring to have this behind him. “As you may have heard, there was an unfortunate misunderstanding at the Southby ball last evening involving your daughter and myself.” Hope filled him at the idea of being able to convince Sir Reginald that the situation would pass without harm to his daughter’s reputation.

  “Humph.”

  Richard waited but when the man said nothing more, he continued, “I was merely asking her a few questions when we were interrupted by several ladies who misinterpreted the situation. Please know I have no designs on your daughter, nor do I—”

  “Caroline? You spoke with my Caroline?” Sir Reginald turned to face him, his excitement obvious. “She’s a winder, is she not?”

  “A winder?” Richard had never heard the term.

  He smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t know what I’d do without her. She takes care of everything now.”

  “Everything?” Richard knew he was repeating the older man, but he was having difficulty following the conversation.

  “Father?”

  Richard turned at the feminine voice to see Caroline standing in the doorway, breathless, as though she’d hurried here when she learned of his arrival. Once again, he found himself staring at her, something deep inside him appreciating her fresh beauty at an elemental level. Her blonde hair was drawn back but a few strands curled about her face. Those amazing bright green eyes fastened on him, adding to his befuddlement.

  “There she is now,” Sir Reginald said. “Have you met my daughter, Caroline?”

  The question startled Richard out of his regard. He glanced back and forth between father and daughter, thoroughly confused.

  “My lord,” Caroline said with a graceful curtsy.

  If Richard hadn’t been watching carefully, he might’ve missed the tightening of her brow, the forced smile tilting her lips. He was struck by the realization that he had yet to see her smile with genuine joy. What would it take to have her do so?

  “We’ve already met, remember, Father? We discussed it this morn.”

  “Yes, of course.” But Sir Reginald’s frown suggested he didn’t remember.

  Caroline walked to her father to loop her arm through his. Her simple gown was a paler shade of yellow than the daffodils on the desk and accented her slender frame. “We agreed there was no cause for concern.”

  Richard noted that she spoke slowly, maintaining eye contact with her father. It was almost as though she didn’t expect him to understand.

  “No concern.” Sir Reginald watched his daughter as though seeking approval for his words.

  Caroline’s shoulders relaxed at his remark. “That’s right. No concern. All is well.” She looked at Richard, a hint of defiance in her eyes. “We have discussed the...incident at length and see no need to take further steps. Any gossip will swiftly pass. After all, it’s not as if we’ve previously been seen together.”

  Sir Reginald turned to look out the window as though he’d lost interest in the conversation once again.

  “We appreciate you calling upon us to discuss the situation.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes, wondering if she was dismissing him. This woman, with her cool reserve that gave only subtle hints as to what was going on in her mind, fascinated him.

  “Father agrees there is no true harm to my reputation.”

  “Harmed her reputation?” The sudden outrage in Sir Reginald’s tone caught Richard by surprise, as did the man’s glare.

  Caroline tugged on her father’s arm, her rising panic palpable. “No harm. No concern, remember?”

  “If you think for one moment that you can damage my daughter’s reputation and walk away, you are mistaken.” Sir Reginald pulled away from his daughter’s grasp and stepped around the desk to glare at Richard. “I expect you will do the honorable thing to save her reputation.”

  ~*~

  Caroline closed her eyes at her father’s demand. She’d hoped this meeting would progress without incident. But like most of her hopes of late, this one was dashed as well.

  “Father.” She attempted to put some authority in her tone, so he’d truly hear her.

  “Well, Aberland?”

  “Father, please listen. We discussed—”

  He scowled at her. “When we discussed this, you didn’t mention there was a smear on your reputation.”

  “Because there isn’t one.” A glance at Aberland showed he was confused as well. That made three people in the room who felt the same.

  Life with her father wasn’t easy. At times, he seemed perfectly fine. Other times, he acted almost childlike in his easygoing manner and desire to please others. The angry version was the one she liked the least. And that one was in full force now.

  “Don’t you agree, my lord?” Caroline nodded at the earl, nearly pleading with him to join the conversation.

  His dark good looks revealed little of what he was thinking. Even those melted chocolate eyes of his kept their secrets.

  “I don’t believe Miss Gold will suffer—”

  “Damn right, she won’t suffer.” Her father leaned forward, his finger outstretched toward the earl again. “Because you will make this right.”

  “Sir Reginald,” Aberland began.

  “What are your intentions?”

  The door opened and her mother looked in. “Is all well in here? Surely, those weren’t raised voices I heard.”

  “Only Father’s,” Caroline said, relieved to see her. “I believe he’s forgotten our earlier agreement.”

  “The only agreement I want is the earl’s to marry Caroline. No one is going to ruin one of my daughters and think they can get away with it.”

  Despite the protests of Caroline and her mother, her father simply wouldn’t listen. Caroline didn’t want to look at the earl for fear of what he must be thinking of her family. How could he miss her father’s erratic behavior?

  “Sir Reginald.” Aberland’s commanding voice cut through the discussion. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Caroline spun to face him. “No,” she whispered. “There’s no need for you to marry me.”

  Everyone knew the Earl of Aberland had no money. Marrying him would be akin to throwing away her life. It wouldn’t aid her family in any way.

  “I will not have my honor called into question simply because you have other plans.”

  Did he somehow know she’d hoped the duke would propose? It didn’t matter what he thought. It onl
y mattered that he had no money.

  Her father nodded in satisfaction. “I always thought you were a man of honor, Aberland. Good to see I wasn’t mistaken.”

  “Shall we set a date?” the earl asked.

  “No,” Caroline replied, even as her father said, “Yes.”

  “Caroline, you will listen to your father.” Her mother raised her chin, a sign she couldn’t be swayed.

  She stared at her mother in surprise. “But we had planned to—”

  “That’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?”

  Caroline could only stare at her parents, wondering how things had gone so awry. This was a bizarre situation. She was fine. Her reputation might be a bit sullied, but next week, no one would remember this minor incident.

  Would they?

  Yet shock seeped through her as her father and the earl shook hands, their voices sounding to her ears as though they echoed through a wall. She couldn’t make any sense of their words.

  Except for her father’s next statement.

  “My daughter’s dowry will be generous,” he advised with a smile and a nod.

  Caroline shared an alarmed look with her mother. Nothing could be further from the truth. There was no dowry. In fact, any man who married her would be asked to pay their past due accounts. What might happen when Aberland learned of that wrinkle?

  Her father tended to remember things from the past, but things that happened in the last year, or even earlier in the day, were not always correct.

  She gave herself a mental shake. Who was she attempting to fool? They were rarely true.

  “Father, I don’t think we should discuss such things at the moment.”

  “Of course we should. What better time is there than the present?”

  The past, she wanted to say. When you were you. When we didn’t have to worry over how we’d buy food, or which servants to let go.

  The last year had been filled with one difficult decision after another. While her mother was helpful, she preferred to ignore problems, hoping they’d go away. But with some problems, procrastination only made them worse.

  “Aberland, why don’t you stay for tea so you can meet Caroline’s sisters.” At the earl’s agreement, her father continued, “Now then, off with you ladies.” He patted Aberland’s shoulder. “We men have important issues to discuss.”