A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 8

  “If I remember correctly, there is a painting at the country estate that is valuable.”

  “You mean the one by Vermeer?”

  “Yes.” The seventeenth-century painting by the Dutch Baroque painter should fetch a tidy sum. But only if his mother wouldn’t oppose the sale of it. “However, I know it was one you brought to the marriage. I didn't want to consider selling it until I had spoken with you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “I appreciate that. But the painting is no longer there.”

  “How do you mean?” Alarm filled Edward at her statement. He hadn’t looked for it in his more recent visits but remembered seeing it not long ago.

  “Your father sold it. I noticed its absence just before Christmas the previous year and mentioned it to him.” Her lips tightened at what must’ve been a painful memory. He could imagine too well his father's reaction to her questioning him about anything.

  Edward sighed, unable to hide his disappointment. He had been certain that selling The Girl with the Wine Glass would be the perfect way to raise the funds for the investment with Aberland. Now he wondered what else had been sold without him noticing. He should have paid closer attention to what his father had been doing. But Edward had been so intent on finding his own pleasures and staying out of his father's way that he hadn’t noticed.

  “What about the necklace?”

  Edward looked at his mother in surprise.

  “I've never really liked the thing.” She sniffed with distaste. “It's rather ostentatious, wouldn't you agree?”

  He assumed the necklace to which she referred was the one that had been passed down for several generations in the Wynn family. The sapphire and diamond necklace would be worth a significant amount, but it had never crossed his mind to sell it. “You would be willing to let it go?”

  “Yes, of course. If you feel sentimental about it and want to give part of it to your bride, one of the stones could be made into a pendant.”

  An image of Margaret wearing something like that filled his mind, causing him to shift uncomfortably. Though he’d told himself there was nothing to their kisses, he couldn’t ignore the way he felt when he was with her.

  “Or you could have a reproduction made if you think it's that important,” his mother added, curbing his wayward thoughts.

  Edward had heard rumors of more than one husband who had sold his wife's jewelry without her knowledge and had it replaced with paste.

  “I don't think anyone remembers the necklace, especially with your grandmother gone for years now.”

  “She was quite fond of it.” He only had a few faint memories of his father's mother. She had been a difficult woman, which perhaps explained some of the reasons his father had been so as well. “You have only worn it on a few occasions that I remember.”

  “I never cared for it,” she said as she stared out the window, her face taut as if unpleasant memories filled her. “It felt more like a choker than jewelry.” She returned his gaze, her expression easing as she lifted a brow. “Shall I get it for you?”

  He considered his options, but they were few. He had no sentimental attachment to the item. If his mother didn't either, this was his chance to move forward with the investment.

  “There are matching earrings as well,” she added.

  “Mother, are you certain?” He hated the idea of taking something from her when Father had already taken so much. “I'm sure I can find some other way to raise funds.” Though nothing immediately came to mind.

  “I'm sure.” She gave a decisive nod, seeming at peace with the idea. “It would be my pleasure to offer it for this investment.” She frowned. “If you're certain it is a sound one?”

  He knew just how much courage it took for her to mention her concern. His father had trained her to avoid questioning him about anything.

  Edward smiled, pleased she was comfortable enough with him to ask. It was such a motherly thing to do and moments like this had been few and far between since his youth.

  “I am. The Earl of Aberland is leading it. The numbers are very promising and if everything works out, this could be a new start for us. Something that allows us to make the many improvements needed to make our properties more profitable.”

  She set aside her needlework and stood. “Then let us see how much the set will bring. I heard of one or two jewelers in particular who are reputed to give a fair price unless you already know of one.”

  Edward was surprised by her offer. “I had no idea you have such connections.”

  She smiled as she moved to the door that connected to her bedchamber. “You would be surprised by what women converse about. One never knows what one might hear.”

  “And here I thought you didn't care for gossip,” he teased.

  “I only like the helpful kind. Sometimes it can be quite educational.”

  He remained where he was, excitement filling him as he listened to the sounds of a drawer opening and closing. Though concerned about what else his father had sold, he was pleased to be able to join Aberland’s investment.

  Whether this took the pressure off to marry soon remained unclear, but he was filled with hope that it just might.

  Chapter Eight

  “I believe I may have found the perfect candidate for you.” Margaret's voice held a tone of excitement that had Edward turning in surprise to face her.

  The Halston Ball was in full swing and had drawn a significant crowd. He’d attended with some reluctance. However, after much pondering, he feared he still needed to marry an heiress. After all, one investment—or rather the potential of a profit—wouldn't fix all that was wrong.

  “Good evening, Miss Gold,” he said deliberately with a stiff bow and a measure of irritation.

  The twist of her lips suggested she was less than pleased at his reminder about proper manners. What was coming of him if he was suddenly concerned over such things? Yet it wasn’t her informal attitude that bothered him. It was her enthusiasm for having possibly found him a bride despite the kisses they’d shared.

  She dipped into a quick curtsy then offered a glare.

  How could this possibly be the same woman he’d kissed in Hyde Park? The one who had followed him into his dreams and provided a lovely fantasy? Apparently, their recent interactions meant more to him than her. The thought disturbed him, and he couldn't help a pang of hurt that Margaret had found someone for him. Surely it was only his pride that stung.

  “And who might that be?” he asked with a definite lack of enthusiasm.

  “Lady Maria Edelman is eight and ten years of age, the only daughter of The Marquis of Willaton, and an heiress. Rumor has it that her dowry is very generous.”

  “I don't believe I know her.”

  “I’ve only seen her from afar, but from all accounts, she sounds perfect.” Edward studied Margaret as she looked around as if in search of the lady. “I don’t think she’s arrived yet, but I understand she plans on attending.”

  Edward gave a quiet sigh, wishing he could will away the feelings that surfaced when Margaret was near. While he knew nothing could come of the attraction between them, he readily admitted how much he liked her. He appreciated her ability to speak her mind, especially knowing how his father had so diminished his mother.

  Margaret's kindness toward his sister was something he admired in a friend as well. Some people were so busy trying to make themselves look better or clever that they forgot to be kind. The trait was underrated as far as he was concerned. He supposed he had his father to thank for his appreciation of the quality as well.

  Margaret glanced at him. “I was surprised to learn that you haven't yet told Charlotte of your intent to find a bride.”

  “I decided it could wait a little longer. She has enough on her mind.” In truth, he was no longer certain why he hadn't told her or his mother. They would have an opinion on who he should consider, and their help might make the task easier.

  But somehow since Margaret had stepped in, he wanted to keep it
a secret. A secret with Margaret. He almost hoped that the supposedly perfect Lady Maria didn't make an appearance this evening. That would allow him a few more encounters with Margaret.

  “There she is now,” Margaret said, dashing his hope. She tipped her head toward the opposite side of the room near the entrance. “She is speaking with the Marchioness of Halston.”

  Edward followed her gaze to see an attractive young lady exchanging pleasantries with their host.

  “What do you think?” Margaret looked at him with an expectant look.

  “Difficult to say from here,” he said as he continued to watch the lady with a clenched jaw, hoping to hide his upset.

  “I'm certain the marchioness would introduce you if you asked.”

  Edward nodded. Suddenly it just felt like too much effort. He wished he could allow nature to take its course and find someone who appealed to him, not based on whether they met his requirements.

  “May I have the honor of a dance?” Edward asked as he turned to Margaret before he could think better.

  She looked at him in surprise. “I don't think that would be wise.” She glanced about as if worried someone might overhear them. Her sister, Annabelle Raybourne, stood a few steps away, involved in a conversation with another lady.

  “Why not?”

  A delicate shade of pink filled her cheeks. “It's concerning enough that we are seen speaking to each other. If we dance together again as well, people might talk.”

  “You're the one who mentioned the need for me to dance with more than one person.” He was thoroughly disgruntled that she would deny him this as well.

  Margaret glanced toward the dance floor, a hint of longing in her expression. Perhaps she also wished their situations weren't so complicated.

  Before he could press her, Thomas Raybourne joined them. “Good evening, Wynn.” Raybourne smiled as he looked between the two of them. “I hope I'm not interrupting?”

  From the curious gaze the man gave them, Edward realized they were indeed drawing attention, at least from Raybourne.

  “Not at all,” Edward reassured him, careful not to look at Margaret. “How are things at the publishing house?”

  “Going very well.” Raybourne’s gaze shifted to Margaret for a long moment, making Edward wonder at his thoughts. “We have a new magazine out that is growing quite popular.” His gaze returned to Edward. “The fashion plates are drawing attention and acclaim.”

  Margaret’s lips parted with a silent gasp. Her pointed look at her brother-in-law was curious.

  “Oh?” Edward hoped Raybourne would explain the remark so he might understand her reaction.

  “The designs have caught the interest of many readers. We are lucky that someone of such talent is working with us.” Raybourne’s secretive smile seemed to cause Margaret further unease based on the way she shifted.

  Thinking of Margaret's interest in fashion, Edward wondered if she didn't approve of the designs. “Are they not up to your standards?” he asked her.

  “They are very nice,” she said at last. She cast a glare at Raybourne. “There are many other noteworthy items within the pages of your magazine. Wouldn't you agree?” Her question made Raybourne chuckle.

  “Yes, there are. I'm just pleased it is already such a success. Of course, I can't take full credit. A good portion of it needs to be given to the artist behind the fashion plates. I hear that some ladies are so taken with the drawings that they cut them out to display as art.”

  Edward didn't understand what made Margaret so uncomfortable, but it amused him to see her thusly. The delicate blush that had colored her cheeks had deepened. As talented as she was, he knew she could draw the designs as well, if not better, than the artist who had provided them for the magazine. He’d seen her work for himself. Perhaps Raybourne realized that and couldn't resist teasing her.

  He glanced at her again, unable to hold back his smile at how ill at ease she looked with her lips pressed tightly together, and her gaze darting around the room as if she searched for an escape.

  Raybourne turned his attention back to Edward. “Have you considered what we discussed any further?”

  Edward nodded. “Yes, I have. Plans are well underway.”

  “Excellent. Mine are as well. I don’t think either of us will regret it.”

  Edward felt the weight of Margaret's stare and glanced at her, noting her pleased smile. She gave a single nod as if in approval. Much to his surprise, his mood lifted. Surely her admiration wasn’t that important to him. Yet he found himself shifting at the lie. He wasn’t prepared to consider exactly what she meant to him. He valued her friendship, but that was all their relationship could be.

  After several minutes of conversation, Edward reluctantly reminded himself of his purpose here. He excused himself to walk around the edge of the ballroom, pausing to visit with acquaintances as he perused the crowd to see if anyone caught his interest before he sought Margaret’s suggestion.

  He danced with two ladies he was considering, though one annoyed him with her giggling and the other nodded at every comment he said as if loathe to share her true opinion. How could he consider either of them seriously when doing so might turn him into his father—a miserable, irritated man who made everyone around him equally miserable?

  With reluctance and low expectations, he asked the Marchioness of Halston for an introduction to Lady Maria, and she gladly complied.

  Though young, Lady Maria seemed more mature than the previous two ladies with whom he’d spoken. Her pale hair and bright blue eyes were attractive as was her slender form. She liked to ride and had intelligent answers to the few questions he asked. Yet she paled in comparison to Margaret.

  “Is there someone you’re in search of?” Lady Maria asked after they had conversed for a time.

  “I’m sorry?” Edward frowned at her question.

  “You seem to be looking over the guests as if you’re hoping to see someone in particular.”

  “Not at all,” he reassured her, silently cursing himself as he realized for whom he watched. What Margaret was doing or with whom she spoke was none of his affair. He studied Lady Maria, wishing he understood why he felt so little when he looked at her. Was it only because he didn’t know her well?

  How strange that a short time ago, he would’ve said that Margaret was irksome rather than intriguing. That her boldness was unbecoming rather than interesting.

  Circumstances changed quickly, regardless of whether one was prepared. He couldn’t simply think of himself when it came to his future. He had his mother and Charlotte to think of, as well as future generations. Having a title was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. While he didn’t want to become miserable like his father, he had more than his personal preferences to consider.

  When Viscount Chivington came forward to claim Lady Maria for the dance she’d promised him earlier, Edward breathed a sigh of relief. He’d forgotten how tiring making conversation with strangers could be.

  He’d had enough of the ball and his search for a bride. A game of cards and a drink had never sounded more appealing than they did now.

  ~*~

  Margaret did her best to keep her back toward Edward while he visited with Lady Maria. She didn’t want to know how their conversation was progressing. She didn’t want to see them standing together and think what a lovely couple they made.

  She gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself that this was what she wanted—to see him considering a lady that not only he would like but Charlotte would as well.

  More than anything, she wanted to stop thinking about him. She couldn’t allow her growing attraction to him to make her question her plan for the future. The lack of her ability to concentrate had convinced her to find a new potential bride for Edward. He was a distraction she could ill afford. It seemed to worsen with each encounter they had.

  After this ball, she intended to remain home for a time. Her father had improved the past two days and seemed to enjoy her compa
ny. Spending more time with him would surely keep her in his thoughts.

  If the next week or two went well, Margaret hoped to persuade her mother to join Annabelle and Thomas in Bath for a much needed respite. That was what she needed to focus on, along with the fashion plates for the magazine’s next issue, and Charlotte’s gowns. Her life held purpose and the recent emotions she’d experienced were merely temporary, a grain of sand in the hourglass of time.

  “Care to share what you and the Earl of Wynn discussed?” Annabelle whispered with narrowed eyes.

  “He wanted my opinion on someone,” Margaret answered coolly despite the heat filling her cheeks. That was the problem with having a sister who was a writer. She watched people far too closely, seeming to pick up on the nuances of expressions, word choice, and tone, not to mention body language. Unless she was plotting a book, in which case one couldn’t gain her attention even if the house were on fire.

  “Hmmm. That seems...” Annabelle paused.

  Unlikely? Odd? Telling? Margaret held back the urge to complete the sentence for her.

  “Unusual.”

  Margaret was relieved at the tame word. “You might remember that I’m assisting his sister with her trousseau, so he and I have been in each other’s company more often of late.”

  “How is Lady Charlotte? I haven’t seen her for some time.”

  “She hasn’t attended many functions since her father’s death, but she is well. Busy planning her wedding, of course. She and Viscount Redmond seem very happy together.”

  “How exciting. I’m pleased they suit each other so well.” Annabelle leaned close. “I confess that I was rather hoping you liked the Earl of Wynn.”

  “Why?” Margaret’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

  Annabelle shrugged. “I like him. Thomas likes him. I believe Caroline and Aberland do, too. It would be lovely to see you married to someone who fits in with our family so well.”

  Margaret chuckled, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. “I don’t know if his roguish ways are truly behind him.”