A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 5

  Charlotte’s gaze followed Margaret’s. “Good afternoon, Edward.”

  “Ladies.” Edward bowed then walked forward, still off-balance. “I didn't want to intrude on what seemed like an in-depth discussion.”

  “Would you like to see what we were discussing?” Charlotte asked with a raised brow as she lifted one of the sketches.

  Unable to resist, Edward drew close to lean over the settee to view the drawing of an elegant gown. It wasn't a mere sketch but a work of art. He glanced at Margaret in surprise. “Did you draw this?”

  A hint of rose tinted her cheeks though she continued to hold his gaze. “Yes. I thought this one would be ideal for Charlotte’s wedding and a ball gown as well.”

  Edward's gaze returned to the drawing, amazed at how well she’d captured Charlotte from her dimples to the eagerness with which she viewed life. The lines of the gown were flattering as was the deep pink color. Though still a pale shade, the color had a depth to it that brought to mind a peony in the garden his mother was fond of. It would flatter Charlotte perfectly. “I'm impressed.”

  “As am I,” Charlotte said. She reached out and squeezed Margaret's arm as if unable to contain her excitement. “I simply must show this to Mother. I believe she's reading in her sitting room.” She rose with a smile and hurried out of the room.

  Edward was even more curious and moved around the settee to gain a better look at the sketches strewn over the low table. All the images were of Charlotte involved in one activity or another.

  “These look more like the professional sketches in the magazine you were looking at than simple ideas,” he said as he viewed one at a time. She had even drawn Charlotte in a riding habit astride her horse. “Your skills are amazing.” He looked up to see Margaret watching him warily.

  “I enjoy it. And Charlotte is a lovely person to use as a model. I do realize the budget is of concern, and these can be made without significant cost.”

  Edward scowled at the reminder of the state of their finances.

  “I mean no offense.” She reached out to touch his arm briefly. “I only mention it so you won't be concerned.”

  “I appreciate that, but please don't skimp too much. Charlotte deserves a lovely trousseau.”

  “I agree.” Margaret smiled. “She and Viscount Redmond are so happy together.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Her quiet sigh caught his notice. If he didn't know better, he would think it was filled with a touch of envy. “What of you, Miss Gold? When will you marry?” He wasn't certain why he'd ask the personal question, but the sigh reminded him that she was a young lady with her future ahead of her. As with all young ladies, a good marriage was paramount.

  She stiffened, but he didn't think he would have noticed if he hadn’t been watching her closely. She waved a hand of dismissal in the air between them, her gaze fixed on a sketch. “I’m in no hurry for marriage as I am quite content. Besides, my mother and father need me at home.” There was an underlying tension in her words, making him wonder if there was more to what she'd said.

  An urge to comfort her had him reaching out to trail a finger along her cheek, startling her. Those lovely dark eyes of hers met his for a long, sweet moment. Her nostrils flared and awareness crept over him. His gaze swept over her face, dropping to her mouth in time to see her bite her bottom lip briefly.

  The gesture shot a spear of desire through him. He didn't know what it was about her lips that were so appealing, but the urge to taste them eliminated all other thoughts. He leaned close slowly, giving her time to move away or halt him however she saw fit.

  But she didn't.

  Damn. He couldn’t resist the urge to taste that luscious mouth.

  ~*~

  Margaret's heart nearly hammered out of her chest as she watched Edward move closer and closer. Her stomach danced as if birds fluttered inside her, determined to escape. Did he truly mean to kiss her?

  In truth, she had only kissed two other men. One when she was seven and ten while visiting a friend in the country. The experience had convinced her that men were to be avoided at all cost. She tried a second kiss at a ball on a shadowy terrace after a dance nearly two years ago. Though it had been somewhat sweet, she hadn't wanted to repeat it.

  But this. This was a completely different experience already, and their lips had yet to touch. The desire that teemed through her was shocking and so unexpected. She hadn't believed herself capable of the longing that swept over her.

  She focused on Edward’s mouth moving toward her, wanting this more than she wanted her next breath.

  Suddenly she couldn't wait a moment longer and shifted close to press her lips to his. The thought of kissing Edward had crossed her mind more often than she cared to admit over the past few weeks. To her shock, the experience was even better than she'd imagined.

  His lips were firm and inviting. He nibbled slightly causing her mouth to open in surprise. For the briefest moment, his tongue danced with hers only to back away. The slight taste of him left her wanting more.

  Then she felt the heat of his fingers along her neck, causing a delicious shiver to cascade over her. Her breasts tightened and she dearly wanted to lean into his touch.

  But this was Edward. Charlotte’s brother. The man who irritated her with his arrogance. His experience as a rogue was surely the only reason she was so affected by their kiss. He obviously knew what he was doing. Yet all of that logic didn't convince her to pull away. Instead, she moaned softly and touched his cheek, fascinated by the roughness of his clean-shaven face.

  A voice echoed in the corridor and had her jerking back even as she stared into his eyes. The knowing gleam suggested he knew exactly how much the kiss had moved her. She tore away her gaze, trying to gather herself before Charlotte returned. Her friend knew her well enough that she might realize what had happened if Margaret wasn't careful.

  “Well, that was surprising.” Edward’s deep voice drew her attention back to him.

  Had he enjoyed the moment as much as she had? Yet she didn't care to think how she compared to the many women Edward had kissed, including the opera singer. The thought of the beautiful woman who sang so passionately helped cool Margaret’s blood.

  Edward stood and studied the sketches, making it appear as if he'd been doing that the entire time Charlotte had been gone—and making Margaret wonder if he’d felt anything when they'd kissed. She welcomed the annoyance that filled her as it was much more comfortable than the desperate need pervading her being moments ago.

  “Mother loves it.” Charlotte strode into the room with a big smile and the sketch in hand. “In fact, she wonders if you would have time in the coming weeks to design a gown for her as well.” Charlotte glanced at Edward. “It would need to be in half-mourning, of course.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Margaret nodded, hoping Charlotte didn’t note the heat in her cheeks. Good heavens. Had she and Edward truly kissed?

  Before her feelings took her away once again, she forced her thoughts toward a possible design for Countess Wynn. Half-mourning included various shades of grey and lavender and was considered appropriate for the lady as more than six months had passed since her husband died. Lavender would suit the older woman well.

  Lady Wynn had changed much in the months following her husband's sudden death. Though she rarely attended social events, Margaret had a feeling she would begin to do so soon. Perhaps after Charlotte’s wedding. However, she was more involved in Charlotte’s life than ever before.

  The late earl had been a very difficult man. Even Margaret had avoided him when possible. Unfortunately, the countess had numbed herself from life by drinking and other means, according to Charlotte.

  Charlotte had been thrilled when her mother had renewed friendships over the past few months. Margaret would be pleased to help Countess Wynn find a style to match her new persona.

  What Charlotte didn't know was that Margaret would be sewing several of her gowns herself. It would help save money, a
nd Margaret enjoyed it. The rest would be made by a dressmaker Margaret knew who was willing to take direction as to how the gown should be constructed. She loved to sketch but making her designs come to life with her own hands was even more exciting. That would be her secret and a gift for her best friend.

  If others knew she acted as a seamstress, it might ruin her reputation as well as that of her family. But she could sketch something for Lady Wynn and explain her ideas to a seamstress of the lady’s choosing.

  “Perhaps something to wear for your wedding breakfast?” Margaret asked Charlotte, keeping her gaze fixed on her friend. She wasn't ready to look at Edward again.

  “That is a wonderful idea,” Charlotte agreed. Her attention shifted to her brother, a hint of worry furrowing her brow. “The wedding breakfast won't be overly large, of course. After all, we are still in mourning.”

  “Those who knew father would hardly blame us for limiting our mourning,” Edward said. “We should celebrate this occasion.”

  Margaret looked up to see the determination in the set of his mouth. No doubt he was weary of the concern over money. That was something to which she could relate. Her family had spent years doing so before Caroline married Aberland. At the time, her unexpected betrothal to him had been of great concern because they hadn't realized he was wealthy.

  Charlotte mentioned that Edward had cut expenses everywhere he could, but Margaret wondered if he had also considered new streams of income. She’d listened to Aberland often enough that she knew more about finances than the average lady.

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte asked. “We can keep it simple and small.”

  Edward shook his head. “Have no worries. Invite as many as you wish.” He smiled, though it seemed forced to Margaret. “You will only marry once, and we need to celebrate it properly.”

  Charlotte nodded, but Margaret knew she would still keep the number of guests to a minimum. Edward wasn’t the only one worried about expenses.

  “I will leave you ladies to your sketches,” Edward said as his gaze skimmed them once more. Then his eyes narrowed as he looked at Margaret.

  His remark about how similar her sketches were to the ones in the magazine came to mind. She gave herself a mental shake. He would never be able to guess that she drew for a magazine. Her secret was safe.

  Yet as Edward continued to study her, she had the unsettling feeling that he could see inside her and knew more than she wished.

  Then he smiled, bid them goodbye, and quit the room. The tension that had gripped her since their kiss fell away.

  “Why do I feel as if he's going to go play a hand of cards?” Charlotte murmured, a pucker furrowing her brow.

  “You may be right. But if his intention is to help pay for your wedding breakfast, then I applaud his efforts.” Edward was doing his best to deal with the unfortunate situation, and Margaret applauded him for it.

  But one thing was certain—she needed to avoid being alone with him again. She couldn't risk another kiss. Not when that one had created such turmoil within her.

  Chapter Five

  Edward threw down the cards on the table, annoyed to have lost another hand.

  “Luck eludes you for once, Wynn.” Viscount Pillard, a lord several years older than Edward who was a frequent opponent, smiled as he drew his winnings close. “It’s refreshing to best you for a change.”

  “Don’t plan on it continuing,” Edward advised, although he wasn’t certain his luck would change anytime soon. Not when his thoughts continued to circle around Margaret and their kiss. He never would’ve guessed that sparks would fly with her. Sparks? That was too tame of a word for what had passed between them. More like a raging fire.

  “Care to play another hand?” Pillard asked.

  “I think I’ll take a break.” Edward rose and straightened his suit coat. “Perhaps I’ll join you again later.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Edward left the card room, irritated that his attempt to win enough blunt to pay for another of Charlotte’s gowns had been thwarted by a pair of brown eyes the shade of melted chocolate. How had Margaret managed to get under his skin? Was it merely all this talk about marriage and finding a bride that caused it?

  He wouldn’t have said he even liked her until the past week. Now he couldn’t seem to escape thoughts of her. The realization puzzled him when marrying anyone other than an heiress would do him no good. In fact, it would only make matters worse. A bride would expect to spend money on new clothes and furnishings. He needed funds coming in, not going out.

  With a sigh, he left the gambling house only to pause on the pavement outside, wondering where to go. Returning home was out of the question. What if Margaret was still there with Charlotte? Seeing her again so soon was the last thing he needed. His club would have to do. Surely one of his friends would be there and provide a distraction.

  He walked to Brooks’s, found an empty table, and ordered a drink. A news sheet lay on the table, and he perused the front-page headlines but found little of interest there. Several pages in, he discovered the latest chapter of a serial mystery written by A. Golden and was soon immersed in the story.

  “Whatever you’re reading must be riveting.”

  Edward glanced up to see the Earl of Aberland and Thomas Raybourne standing before his table. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Join me,” he suggested as he folded the paper and set it aside.

  Aberland pulled back a chair and sat while Raybourne waved for a waiter then did the same.

  Raybourne leaned forward to look at the news sheet. “A fan of A. Golden, are you?” he asked with a grin.

  “I am, as is most everyone that I know. My sister has been known to take the news sheet before I have a chance to read it so she can catch the latest installment.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Raybourne and Aberland shared a smile, making Edward wonder what amused them so.

  “A. Golden is an author from my publishing house,” Raybourne explained, a gleam of pride in his expression. “I hope you have the chance to enjoy the author’s books as well.”

  “Indeed, I have. Will the next one be released soon?”

  “In three months,” Raybourne advised. “Though we’re having a minor disagreement on the ending.”

  “Those creative types can be so fickle, can’t they?” Aberland asked.

  “True.” Raybourne shook his head. “I’m afraid I will lose this battle just like the others.”

  “Based on what I’ve read, the author seems to know what he’s doing,” Edward added. “Perhaps he’s right.”

  Raybourne’s beleaguered sigh caused Aberland to chuckle, though Edward felt as if he’d missed the jest. Then the earl directed his attention to Edward. “I understand your sister and Viscount Redmond will wed soon.”

  “Next month.”

  “Redmond is a fine man. He’s made a significant contribution to the wounded soldiers’ charity. Granger has been singing his praises. He’s reached out to the men formerly under his command and helped many.”

  “It’s helped him as well.” Edward knew the war had changed Redmond in many ways. His experiences had left marks on the man’s spirit—ones that were difficult to heal. But between his love for Charlotte and his involvement in the charity, he seemed much happier of late.

  “I’m pleased to hear that.”

  Edward always felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t bought a commission to serve in the war as well. His father had forbidden it, insisting that as his heir, Edward needed to remain home. He knew both his mother and Charlotte would’ve suffered if he’d left. Then again, they’d suffered even though he remained home. He’d done what he could to shield them from his father’s gruffness but hadn’t done enough.

  How frustrating it was to have regrets in so many areas of his life. He needed to make certain his selection of a wife wasn’t another.

  The waiter brought their drinks and the conversation shifted to mundane matters, including the weather. It amused Edward how muc
h the weather played a role in the lives of Englishmen. He supposed the topic gave people a common issue on which to commiserate. Especially when it so rarely behaved.

  Aberland frowned as he stared at the amber liquid in his glass, suggesting something was on his mind. His gaze lifted to meet Edward’s.

  Edward didn’t know the man well but would guess that he was rather uncomfortable with whatever topic he was about to raise. The fact made Edward curious.

  Aberland glanced around then straightened, placing an arm on the table. “I wonder if you would be interested in an investment opportunity that has recently arisen.”

  Edward didn’t bother to hide his surprise. The wealthy earl was well known for his business savvy. Though involving oneself in commerce was frowned upon, Aberland’s success had silenced most of his critics. He wasn’t in trade but did invest in it. He’d even lent his hand at raising funds for the charity for wounded soldiers in which Redmond had become involved. The fact that he was asking Edward to invest was a shock.

  “I suppose it depends on what it is.” While Edward would jump at the chance to invest in something that held high hopes of a solid return, he had little in the way of extra funds. Especially with Charlotte’s wedding coming soon.

  Aberland explained the details of an investment in a new trading company that sounded intriguing and promising. But how could Edward raise the money he’d need?

  “How soon do you require an answer?” Edward asked.

  “The sooner the better. By week’s end at the latest.”

  Edward nodded, considering how he could acquire the funds. Perhaps he could sell something, though he worried how his mother would react. She was aware of how tight money was, but he didn’t think she truly understood the challenge of turning around their finances.

  While she’d made significant improvements since his father’s death, she was still fragile. He didn’t want to do anything that might send her back to using spirits and laudanum to calm her nerves.

  Raybourne asked a few questions about the investment, making it apparent he was considering it as well.