The Devil Rogue

by Lori Villarreal

  One of the viscountess’s delicately arched eyebrows shifted upward. “Indeed, it is between the both of you, but then society has made it their business, as well. What I would like to know is why you have declined my son’s offer of marriage. With a few quick maneuvers, and well-placed rumors of true love, I believe it would quite remedy the situation. The ton does so love a good romance.”

  “Forgive me, my lady, but my plan was to disappear into the country, so any rumors of my stay here would eventually fade away. I see no real need for a forced marriage.”

  The viscountess chuckled softly. “You believe my son is being forced?”

  “He feels guilty for his part in my situation here. I believe he feels pity for me, for what my father did to me, and has done to me in the past.”

  “Nonsense, my dear. My son has never done anything unless he really wanted to. If he has asked you to marry him, it is because he wants to. Oh, he may have convinced himself he is only doing the honorable thing, but deep down there is more to it than that, and he will realize it soon enough.”

  “You said you knew my mother . . . did you also know my father?” An expression flashed in the viscountess’s eyes, so fleeting, Angela wasn’t sure what it might have meant.

  “I knew who he was and only that he married your mother. She didn’t go out into society after the wedding.” There was a faraway look in her eyes as she continued, “It was as though she just vanished. I tried many times to contact her, but she never returned any of my letters. I suspect your father prevented her from doing so.”

  “Yes,” Angela agreed. “He is a very domineering, manipulative man. He controlled my mother, and then he controlled me in every aspect of my life. That is why I don’t wish to marry. It’s not just your son; I don’t want to marry anyone. I don’t wish to find myself in the position of being controlled by a man ever again.”

  “My son may be a bit hard-headed and arrogant at times, but you needn’t worry that he would ever harm you. As a wife you would have your own power to wield, especially if you’ve captured his heart, which I suspect you have. There are subtle ways a woman can get around a stubborn male.” The viscountess’s smile was enigmatic, as though she were speaking words from experience, and in the speaking of them, recalled a pleasant memory.

  Angela was at a loss. “My lady, for one who disapproves of me, you seem agreeable to a marriage between your son and me.”

  “I never said I disapprove of you, my dear. It is your current status of mistress that I’m against. As for marrying my son, I have yet to be completely swayed in that direction. There are certain facts regarding your family which I would urge you to look into.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Just that I suggest you investigate the circumstances leading to your mother’s marriage to the Baron of Eberly.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Only that I recall a rumor before your mother married. It was so long ago, I can’t remember the specifics. Suffice it to say, things are not always as they seem.”

  Angela’s suspicion that the baron was not her real father rose to the surface. The viscountess appeared to be suggesting that very thing. Did she know something about her mother, before her marriage to the baron? The one person who knew the truth would not confess it easily, and Angela was not inclined to chance another beating. She was lucky to be alive after the last encounter with The Baron. This time, she would not be so foolhardy as to confront him in person. She would sneak into his house and search for anything that might give her some answers.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to retire to my rooms before dinner,” the viscountess said, breaking into Angela’s musings.

  “Yes, my lady,” Angela said absently, her thoughts turned inward on the subject of her father. She needed some privacy herself, so she could dissect this new information more fully.

  “And Miss Hopkins?”

  At the door, Angela turned to look at the viscountess. “Yes, my lady?”

  “I look forward to seeing you at dinner.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Angela knew it was a command, but it was also a form of acceptance, however temporary that may turn out to be.

  The viscountess’s willingness to dine with her son’s mistress was a significant turn of events. Angela now found herself in a most singularly peculiar position. There was no precedence to her situation. Never had she heard of a man’s mistress residing in his home, let alone having the man’s mother invite her to dinner. Angela may have been an innocent before this, but she’d always kept her ears open to gossip. She’d often hid under the camouflage of marble pillars and potted palms, listening in on the scandalous goings on within society. Nothing she’d heard and filed away for future use, for what purpose she couldn’t have said at the time, had mentioned a mistress and her lover’s mother dining together.

  It was perplexing, to say the least. Then there was the odd conversation about her parents, or rather, her mother and the baron. Entering her room, Angela contemplated Lady Blackridge’s words. After closing the door, she moved to the bed. Sitting on the edge, she pondered her next move. She needed to get some answers, about her mother, about the baron, and about her real father. Somehow she was going to have to find a way to get into the baron’s house and search his study.

  Her mind whirled, slowly formulating a plan. She would wait until dark. She would watch the house and when the baron left, she would sneak in through the window to his study. The study’s one large window was on the side of the house, away from the street, low to the ground and hidden by bushes. She would need britches. Crawling through the hedges and climbing over window sills was not a task to be done wearing a dress with too many yards of material that could slow her down or get snagged.

  Rosemary would know where to find men’s clothing, Angela was sure, so she left her room in search of her maid. Tonight would not be a good time to do it, however, with the dinner with Lady Blackridge looming in her mind and her nerves.

  Tomorrow night, perhaps.

  If memory served, it was the baron’s regular card night. He would be out until the early morning hours.

  ISABELLA WAITED IN her rooms for Ian to arrive. There was something about Miss Hopkins that disturbed her, or rather, a vague recollection of her mother, and the rumor that had circulated concerning the baron and another man. She wondered how much Miss Hopkins knew about her parents, about her father. Many years had passed since those days, but Isabella was certain that if she thought enough about it, it would all come back to her.

  As memories of that time in her life resurfaced, so did the memory of when she’d first met Roen, Ian’s father, and how they’d eventually fallen in love. But it hadn’t happened as simply as that. They’d had their own share of mishaps, misunderstandings, and hurdles to cross before their happy ending.

  Ian had grown into a man very similar to his father. Roen had also been a handsome, arrogant and stubborn man. But unlike Ian, Roen had not been a womanizing rogue. Roen had nurtured the anger and bitterness that dwelled deep within himself, isolating him from everyone around him.

  A young Isabella had seen through his protective barrier, however. She’d detected a glimmer of the man he could be, the man he’d hidden from the rest of the world. When she’d looked into his green and gold-speckled eyes, his true self had been revealed to her. It hadn’t been easy for either one of them, their journey together being a difficult one, but in the end, their love for each other had persevered.

  Now Isabella’s son exhibited the signs of a man in love, something she hadn’t thought would ever happen with him. Was Miss Hopkins the right woman for him? Hopefully they would be able to discover that on their own, and hopefully, their ‘ever after’ would be a happy one.

  Even though it had been many years since Roen’s death, Isabella still thought about him often. He’d been the love of her life, and after he was gone, other men had held no interest for her. But her widowed status had become
a lonely existence, and lately she’d been contemplating taking a lover. She was an intelligent, independent, and wealthy woman, so she had no need of a husband. What she missed was the closeness and companionship the right man could provide.

  A soft knock on her door brought Isabella out of her musings. At her answer to enter, Ian walked in, the concerned expression on his otherwise unemotional countenance bringing an amused smile to her lips.

  5

  Villarreal / The Devil Rogue

  Chapter 17

  IAN STILL COULDN’T believe his mother had invited Angela to dine with them tonight. He shook his head slowly, recalling the conversation he’d had with his mother earlier. He’d been strolling through the conservatory, lost in his thoughts, when a servant had summoned him to his mother’s rooms. Fearing what might have transpired during her meeting with Angela, he’d rushed up the stairs, only to be met with the news that Miss Hopkins would be joining them for dinner. His usual stoic expression must have betrayed his surprise, for it drew a soft laugh from the viscountess.

  “My dear, what did you think I would do to her, devour her whole and wash it all down with tea?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect, to be sure, mother. I certainly never imagined such ready acceptance on your part, not that you’re disagreeable by nature, but considering the circumstances—”

  “The circumstances, as they appear, may not necessarily be as they appear.”

  “Is that supposed to be a riddle?” Ian retorted. “Are you trying to confuse me?”

  “I merely suggest you investigate the events prior to the marriage of Miss Hopkins’ mother and the Baron Eberly. I knew her mother in those early days, and something niggles in the back of my mind – something about her and another man. It was all hushed up quite neatly, and then suddenly she was married to the baron.”

  “I already suspect the baron is not Miss Hopkins’ real father, so what could it do for her, except cause more scandal if she were to discover the truth?”

  “The more I think on it, the more my memory serves me, and if she is who I believe her to be, well, mark my words – society in all its hypocrisy will be set on its ear and justly so.”

  “That’s quite a statement, which makes me more curious by the moment, and as such, doubtful your memory is as bad as you claim.”

  She laughed. “You’re right, of course. I’m not so far into my dotage that my mind has withered. However, I do only have a vague remembrance of those youthful days, and the scandal surrounding my friend. I remember being hurt by her choice not to confide in me, and I never did hear the truth from her lips. Then she was dead and gone, and no one remembered or cared about what had happened before her marriage.”

  “But you know more than you’re telling me, don’t you?”

  “I only have a strong inkling – so strong, in fact, that more and more I believe I’m right. It is your move, my dear – a quest, as it were, if you should so desire to embark upon it.”

  “Are we talking fair damsels in distress and knights on white chargers?” Ian asked with amusement. “I never knew you were so fanciful, mother.”

  She shot him an admonishing look. “You’d be surprised by what you don’t know about me, my dear.”

  Ian raised one dark, slashing eyebrow, so resembling his mother’s. “Apparently so.”

  “If you truly wish to marry Miss Hopkins . . . if that is the path you’re determined to take, then you must unravel her past, and set things right for her. Until that happens, she will not marry you.”

  “And you got all this from a brief conversation with her?”

  “Our conversation, yes, and what you told me about her sad life with the baron, and my memory of her mother. It all comes together like pieces of a puzzle. The picture is almost complete, but for one or two more pieces.”

  “As a lord of the realm, it is my duty to rescue the fairy princess from the fiery dragon.” Ian gave his mother a courtly bow, in keeping with their talk of quests, knights, and fair maidens.

  “This is not a thing to make a mockery of, Ian. That girl’s future hangs in the balance, and if you care for her just a little, you will tread carefully.”

  “My apologies, lady mother. I will notify my solicitor in the morning of this new development in our investigation.”

  “That would be most prudent.”

  “Which leaves me with one other question. How long do you plan on staying? I do enjoy your visits, as you know, but at the risk of sounding churlish, your presence here will put a damper on my wooing of Miss Hopkins.”

  “On the contrary, I think my presence will add a degree of respectability, belated though it is.”

  “It will make my efforts much more difficult, and cause Miss Hopkins no small amount of discomfort.” Ian inwardly railed at the idea of his mother residing here while he worked his skills of seduction on Angela.

  “Your Miss Hopkins is stronger than you think. I believe we will get on famously together.”

  “Hmmm…” Ian left his mother’s company with a skull full of perplexing questions. How was he going to conduct an affair with Angela while his mother was here, practically breathing down his neck? Where had his sensibilities gone and who, exactly, was Miss Hopkins?

  Tomorrow, he would put into motion plans to discover the answers to those very questions, except the one about what had happened to his sensibilities. He’d never been a man prone to the weakness of infatuation . . . romance . . . love. Was he falling in love with Angela? Was he already in love with her? The prospect was an uncomfortable one – frightening, even.

  He admired Angela’s strength and courage, her kindness to those in service. She had a way of accepting that which could not be changed, shrewdly turning adversity into a commodity, and yet she remained steadfast in the defense of others, carrying their burdens upon her slight shoulders.

  She was a lovely and passionate woman, and he adored her, Ian realized with a start. So he would have to win her trust, convince her to marry him before they reached the end of their bargain. That was no small task considering how obdurate she was about the subject. Ian knew her reluctance stemmed from her fear that any man she married would dominate her, possibly even abuse her. He would use the time remaining to lay her fears to rest, to prove to her that not all men were like her father.

  Ian considered his next move with careful deliberation. A strategy slowly formed in his thoughts, gaining in strength as he analyzed the potential for success. It was a bold idea, and could prove to be quite scandalous – dangerous even – if he were caught. A search of the baron’s residence, during his absence, of course, might produce some piece of evidence that would reveal the answers to Angela’s past.

  THE NEXT EVENING, Angela was in her room with Rosemary, attired in Phillip’s overlarge cast-offs. “How do I look?” she asked, holding out her arms. She was wearing a large, billowy white shirt, stuffed into the waistband of dark brown knee breeches, stockings and a pair of worn shoes with tarnished buckles. She’d had to stuff rags in the toes to keep from stepping right out of them. The vest and matching dark jacket completing the ensemble stretched tightly across her bosom, obviously not made for a woman with her measurements.

  Rosemary had not approved of Angela’s plan, but grudgingly procured the necessary items for her anyway, and when asked how she’d obtained them, only gave a saucy smile for an answer. Responding to Angela’s question, she said, “Not like a man, dearie, or even a boy, for that matter. You’re too small and slender and female.”

  “It comforts me to know that I look like a female,” Angela said in a dry tone. “But my intention, at least for tonight, is to appear male. In the dark and from a distance is all I’m hoping for.”

  “Your breasts are ready to pop out at any moment.”

  “They are not going to pop out.” Angela scrunched her shoulders inward. “The fit isn’t as tight as it looks.” Oh, who was she trying fool?

  “I suppose under the cover of darkness,” Rosemary said slow
ly, “and seen from far enough away, you could pass for a young boy.” She didn’t sound convinced at all.

  Angela snatched the cap off the bed, stuffing her hair into it and arranging it snuggly on her head. “It will just have to do.”

  “I still think you shouldn’t go. It’s a stupid idea, especially after what happened the last time you encountered your father.”

  “It’s not a stupid idea. Well, maybe it is, but I see no other way to find the information I need. And this time, I won’t be confronting The Baron.”

  “What information?”

  “Who my real father is.” The look of surprise on Rosemary’s face, along with hurt, bit at Angela’s conscience. She had yet to confide in her friend about her suspicion that The Baron was not her real father. “I intended to tell you. I only came to suspect it recently.”

  “You really believe he’s not your father?”

  “I recalled something from when I was a child, and then during my conversation with the viscountess yesterday, it was revealed that she knew my mother. She urged me to look into the circumstances of my parents’ marriage.”

  “Are you sure you want to go digging around in the past? Sometimes, things are better off staying buried.”

  “I need to know,” Angela said with desperation in her voice. “I need to know that I’m not related by blood to that miserable man.”

  “You may not like what you find,” Rosemary warned.

  “Whether I like it or not, it would be the truth, and I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Why not ask Blackridge for help? At least you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger, dressing up like a man and sneaking into your fa– the baron’s house? There’s no telling what could happen to you out there, alone and unprotected.”

  “I don’t want to ask for his help, I want to do this on my own. I’m fairly confident he wouldn’t allow me to do this, which is exactly why I don’t need a husband, or father telling me what to do.”