A Rogue’s Reputation
Book 2 of
A Regency Romance
Lana Williams
USA Today Bestselling Author
A Rogue’s Reputation
By Lana Williams
Blame it on the mistletoe...
As the new Earl of Granger, Benjamin Wright is determined to put an end to his family’s reputation of roguish behavior, beginning with his own. When he arrives in London to claim his inheritance, he quickly realizes his plan will not be as simple as he expected.
Lady Louisa Felton is appalled to learn her mother wrote love letters to the recently deceased earl. Fearing another scandal will cast her mother from Society, leaving her crushed along with Louisa’s hopes for a future, Louisa attempts to retrieve the letters before the new heir finds them.
Discovering a lady dressed in lad’s clothing attempting to steal from him is a surprise to Benjamin, but not as much as his attraction to the reckless lady. Though he vows to keep his distance, the lovely Louisa refuses to stay out of his life. One kiss is all it takes to know she has the power to make him forget his plan to reform.
Benjamin is the exact type of man Louisa’s mother would fall for, making him the sort Louisa intends to avoid. If only she can convince her willful heart of that.
Fate refuses to cooperate with their plans, and what happens at Christmas will change this rogue’s reputation forever.
Table of Contents
Other Books in the Series
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Other Books by the Author
About the Author
Copyright
Other Books in The Rogue Chronicles
ROMANCING THE ROGUE, Book 1
A ROGUE’S REPUTATION, a Novella, Book 2
A ROGUE NO MORE, Book 3, Releasing June 2020
More coming soon ~ to be the first to know about new releases and special promotions, sign up for my VIP Readers newsletter.
Chapter One
London, England 1814
Lady Louisa Felton tugged at the ill-fitting trousers she wore as part of her disguise and studied the dark windows of Granger House on Grosvenor Street. None of the servants appeared to be awake. Perfect. Yet she couldn’t convince her feet in their unfamiliar boots to move from the cobblestones toward the garden gate.
The deed could be postponed no longer. The new Earl of Granger was expected to arrive on the morrow or the day after, according to servants’ gossip. She should’ve done this earlier in the week when her mother had first confessed her most recent grievous error. Procuring a lad’s clothing had taken two days, but she’d wanted some sort of disguise for this undertaking. Thank heavens her lady’s maid had a young brother willing to lend her the proper attire. Another day had been spent finding the courage to don the male clothing for this late-night venture.
Blast her mother for writing love letters to the previous earl, who’d lost his life, along with his wife and son, three weeks past when the ship they’d been on had gone down in a storm. Louisa felt a twinge of sympathy. The late earl had been a rogue of the worst sort with his son following closely on his heels. The Countess of Granger had ignored their terrible behavior by indulging in some of her own. Her penchant for belittling all who crossed her and spreading vicious gossip had been well known amongst the ton. Despite their poor behavior, Louisa certainly hadn’t wished them dead.
Louisa muttered an unladylike curse under her breath. This was absolutely, positively, the last time she was going to rescue her mother from the brink of scandal. When she’d promised her father on his deathbed some twelve years ago to watch over her mother, she hadn’t realized how difficult a task he’d given her. Her mother’s huge heart and passionate nature often made her reckless, causing her to fling herself from one cause—or man—to another in search of happiness. Unfortunately, she had yet to find it since becoming a widow.
They could not risk the new earl discovering her letters and sharing them. While many in polite society might look the other way when a married man had an affair with a widow, leaving evidence for his heir to find was a completely different matter. Louisa didn’t care to have her mother’s name bandied about again. Not only did it cause her mother distress, it also tainted Louisa’s future prospects, as would missions such as this one. Heaven forbid if she were caught.
Steeling herself, she used her own garden gate key to unlock the one before her, relieved they were similar enough to work. Their own home wasn’t far away, but that provided little reassurance. She might have been in another country as strange and disorienting as her mission was.
In the garden away from the streetlamps, the night was inky black. The late November air held a distinct chill and added to her shivers. She approached the glass-paned door that led to the library, her palms damp from nerves. The layout of the house was similar to hers along with most of the other ones on this street.
A quick test proved the door locked. With a tug, she freed a hairpin from under her cap and went to work on the lock, something she’d practiced on the library door at home.
Minutes ticked by before she finally managed it. She drew a breath in an attempt to slow her racing heart as she cautiously opened the door then paused to listen.
Silence. The lack of sound had never been sweeter. But the darkness was a problem. She rummaged in her coat pocket for the candle she’d brought, relieved to see a few coals still burning in the fireplace and hurried forward to light her candle. Having to do so with the tinderbox would take far too long. The sooner she found what she sought and left, the better.
She moved to the desk with jerky strides, having already noted the library door that led to the rest of the house was closed, and placed the candle in a candleholder to begin her search. This evening, she should’ve been at a soiree where she might meet a thus far undiscovered paragon of calm, cool, and collected behavior whom she could marry. Why had she been fighting the idea? Marrying a man above reproach sounded lovely now and far from boring as she eyed the three-drawer mahogany desk.
With a silent prayer that she’d quickly find the letters, she opened the first drawer, dismayed to find it nearly full of papers. She pulled the lot out and paged through them in the dim candlelight with no success. After returning them to their place, she tried the center drawer only to find it locked.
If a married man wished to hide letters, he’d obviously keep them in that drawer. She retrieved her hairpin once more and set to work. Why her mother had fancied herself in love with the roguish earl escaped Louisa. Nor did she pretend to understand why she’d felt the need to profess her love for a married man in writing.
Louisa heard a satisfying click as her hairpin unlocked the drawer. But she held still, crouched before the desk. Something was amiss. The fine hairs on the back of her neck told her so. She looked up to see that she was not alone.
“Looking for something?”
The man who watched her as he walked forward from the now open doorway was no servant. The breadth of his shoulders, the arrogance in his stance, along with his handsome features said otherwise. An untied cravat dangled about the open neck of his shirt, and his coat was unfastened as well. His gaze raked her over from head to toe, convincing her that he’d seen through her disguise. Her heart hammered with fear.
The hair
pin she clutched would hardly prove a satisfactory weapon. She stepped back from the desk, anxious to put as much distance between her and the stranger as possible then risked a glance over her shoulder to see how far away the door was.
Too far. She looked back at the tall stranger, dismayed at how much closer he’d gotten so quickly.
“Who are you?” he demanded, the deep timbre of his voice all the more intimidating. He was close enough to the candle she’d left on the desk to see his attractive features. Dark tousled hair brushed the collar of his shirt. His narrowed eyes were framed by black brows. He had to be the new Earl of Granger. The one who wasn’t due to arrive for at least another day. She had no doubt he was a rogue through and through, much like the rest of his family.
Blast. So close and yet so far from her goal.
Louisa had no intention of answering his questions when her voice would give her away if her feminine features hadn’t already. She shook her head, hoping the cap kept her disguised. She held up her hand, palm out, to show she hadn’t taken anything. Then she turned and bolted.
Before she’d taken more than a few steps, he had hold of her arm with strong fingers.
“I asked you a question.” He gave her arm a shake and her cap fell off, causing her hair to escape its knot and tumble past her shoulders.
His surprise at the sight loosened his hold, and Louisa jerked free, filled with hope that escape might yet be possible.
As she neared the door, she felt his hands grasp her upper arms, dashing her hope. He spun her to face him, his dark gaze raking over her, making her feel as if he’d laid her bare for his perusal. “Who are you?”
~*~
Benjamin Wright, the new Earl of Granger, couldn’t wrap his thoughts around what was happening. Mayhap his travels had exhausted him more than he realized. He’d arrived in London earlier in the day, still processing the news that had abruptly ended his work abroad. Inheriting the earldom had changed his whole future. Finding a lad in his uncle’s—rather, his own—library was a shock, but to realize he was a she upended his thoughts completely.
“Release me,” the woman demanded.
“So you can run again?” He shook his head and firmed his grip. “I think not.” He might not know why she was here, but if she escaped, he’d never discover the reason.
He eased her closer to the single candle flame that sputtered on the desk to gain a better look. Golden hair the color of spun honey hung in soft waves nearly to her waist. Wide blue eyes framed with dark lashes, arched brows, high cheekbones stained a tantalizing pink, and full lips made him think of a Botticelli painting come to life. She was an English beauty for certain, and he’d been abroad long enough to appreciate the sight thoroughly.
Her shifting eyes suggested she weighed how best to answer his question.
He waited, intrigued at what choice she thought she had. Was she a former lover of his uncle’s? She seemed too young, but he well knew money could buy almost anything, and his uncle had made depravity his middle name.
“I’m merely searching for something that doesn’t belong here.” Her proper English tone sounded exotic to his ears. He’d definitely been gone too long.
“And what might that be?” He glanced at the bare desk, unable to guess what could be within the drawers that she desired.
Again she hesitated, as though choosing her words with care. She shifted to make it clear she desired her freedom, but he continued to hold tight. “Private correspondence...between my mother and the earl.”
“Love letters?” Benjamin raised a brow, relieved to hear the woman wasn’t personally involved.
“I wouldn’t know as I haven’t read them.” She lifted her chin, a small gesture of defiance that matched the fire in her eyes.
Why did that feel like a challenge?
Before he could respond, she raised a hand and pricked his hand with a sharp object. “What the—” Surprised, he jerked back, inadvertently loosening his hold on her.
She lunged for the door and escaped before he could gather his wits.
With a curse, he strode to the entrance, certain he could catch her if he wished. But was such action necessary when he still had what she wanted? He stood there a long moment, looking into the dark night before at last turning back to the library and locking the door. The faint scent of her lingered in the air, the only proof she’d been there.
He ran a hand over his eyes. What an odd way to end this odd day. He’d arrived earlier than planned to his Uncle Morris’s home, a place he hadn’t set foot in for over five years. It would take time to truly believe this was his home now as he’d never expected to inherit.
While he felt terrible about the tragedy that had taken the life of his uncle and aunt and their only heir, his cousin, he hadn’t cared for the lot of them. Uncle Morris had been an awful human being, his wife no better, and their son even worse.
He’d intended for this day to mark the beginning of a new era for the earldom, which had been led by rogues for several generations. At the age of one and thirty, Benjamin was turning over a new leaf and leading a different—no, better—life. No more roguish behavior, including excessiveness in liquor, women, and cards. Heaven knew Uncle Morris would roll over in his grave if he knew Benjamin’s plan. The man had taken great pride in his many debaucheries and done his best to add to the Granger legacy.
Benjamin had grown weary of doors closing in his face because of his family’s reputation as well as his own. As the new Earl of Granger, he was determined to live above reproach. He’d become disenchanted with the path of his life some time ago and had intended to purchase a commission to join the war efforts, only to be approached by an acquaintance who’d convinced him that his services would be better used elsewhere.
He’d hoped to put his life as a rogue behind him when he commissioned, but spying required him to keep it. The past two years had been equal parts frustrating and wondrous. Atrocities committed by bad men were terrible, but war caused even the good ones to commit far worse deeds. His disgust of such acts done for ‘the greater good’ wouldn’t fade any time soon.
Yet parts of his travels had restored his hope in the world. The sights he’d seen—from the breathtaking Mount Kilimanjaro to the turquoise blue sea near Cyprus—and the people he’d met along the way—simple villagers, tribesmen, as well as a prince or two—had given him a new perspective and firmed his goal of change.
These adventures had helped Benjamin realize he was but one star in the night sky and would only shine brightly for a brief time. The humility he’d experienced at that moment had sealed his desire for a new start.
He’d done nothing of note in his life. Even his spying had seemed of little consequence, though he’d been told his efforts had been helpful. Most of his adult life had been spent seeking pleasure regardless of the cost to others. That pursuit had seemed a natural occurrence after he’d left university and taken his grand tour. When he’d returned to London, he’d done more of the same, following in the footsteps of the majority of the male members of his family, including his father, who’d died while Benjamin was at university. His mother had passed soon after. However, he’d grown weary of waking with the same discontent and headache each morning.
Though he hoped spying for his country would provide the opportunity to change, his role had required a rogue’s cover to allow him to dally in unsavory places to gather information. Spying was a dirty business, a necessary evil poorly regarded by most in the military.
All that was over now. Learning of his uncle’s demise had seemed like a nod from fate that his desire for a new beginning was the right path.
He eyed the desk, wondering whether the information the woman searched for was truly there. Perhaps he should look in case she decided to pay another visit during the night. Obviously, locked doors and drawers didn’t stop her. What an unusual woman she was. Determined for certain, he thought as he rubbed his hand where she’d pricked him.
The middle drawer had been her foc
us when he’d discovered her. He opened the drawer, unsurprised that she’d managed to unlock it, and pulled out the papers inside. With the aid of the candle she’d left, he soon found what she sought. The delicate curves of the handwriting certainly weren’t Uncle Morris’s. He skimmed the contents in the dim light. No wonder his mysterious intruder wanted the letters back. He paged through several papers and found three written in the same feminine script. The rest of the correspondence appeared to be business related. Those could wait until the morning when he was less blurry eyed.
Without a key to relock the drawer, he decided it prudent to take the letters with him to his bedchamber for safekeeping. What an unexpected—and unsettling—way to begin his new life. He’d had difficulty sleeping before and had ventured to the library for a drink and a book. Now it seemed even more unlikely that he’d find slumber.
He poured himself a brandy from a decanter on the sideboard, selected a book on Greek architecture that he hoped would lull him to sleep then retrieved the candle and letters from the desk. With one last glance at the door that led to the garden, he returned to his bedchamber.
The dry information shared in the book and brandy failed to keep his thoughts from the intriguing woman. She followed him into his dreams, threatening his resolve to keep his distance from reckless women.
Chapter Two
Louisa was already awake the next morning when her maid arrived with her breakfast tray.
“Good morning, my lady,” Beth said as she set the tray on the bedside table then eyed the pile of dark clothes in a nearby chair. “Shall I return those to my brother?” The hopeful note in her tone was impossible to miss.
“Would he mind if I held onto them a few more days? I’d be happy to pay him for any inconvenience.” After spending the night tossing with regret, Louisa still hadn’t arrived at a decision as to how best to proceed. She’d been so close to her goal, assuming the letters had been in the locked drawer. There was always a chance the deceased earl had destroyed them, though her mother didn’t believe so.
A Rogue's Reputation (The Rogue Chronicles Book 2) Page 1