Romancing The Rogue (The Rogue Chronicles Book 1)

by Lana Williams

  “Is your arm healing?”

  “Indeed. It feels much better.” In moments like this, he forgot about the injury.

  A cotillion was just beginning. He’d never really cared for the dance due to its length, but the movements felt quite different when he danced with Caroline. She was graceful, executing the steps with ease as they moved in a square shape across the floor.

  He had to admit that everything he did with her was more enjoyable.

  The dance didn’t allow much opportunity for conversation, so he was easily able to deflect her comments. At least until they left the dance floor.

  “Are you certain you didn’t have anything to do with the return of that investment?”

  He smiled and patted her hand. “How could I have? Do you know the Torringtons well?”

  “We visit with them when we meet at various events, but we don’t call upon each other. Why?”

  “Merely curious.” And trying to shift your focus away from the investment.

  They paused at the edge of the dance floor to watch the next set of dancers.

  He searched his mind for a new topic to distract her. “I thought Viscount Stafford might be in attendance this evening.”

  “I understand the viscount and his wife have left London for a few days.”

  Richard’s interest was immediately caught. How timely that Stafford had decided to leave town. This was precisely the opportunity he needed to see what he could find in that locked drawer in his library. “Do you happen to know where they went?”

  “I believe someone mentioned they travelled to Southampton. Isn’t that the same place the Duke of Wayfair ventured?”

  That bit of news made him even more determined to pay a visit to Stafford’s home. Could Stafford and Wayfair somehow be working together? He’d need to see if one of his associates from Whitehall could venture there to discover what he was up to.

  Realizing Caroline continued to stare, he answered her question. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “And?”

  Nonplussed, he only held her gaze. He had no idea how to respond nor what might be going through her mind. Did her question have anything to do with the gamut of emotions that had crossed her face earlier?

  “I have to ask what you intend to do.” She lifted her chin as though to make it clear she expected an answer.

  “I intend to enjoy this time with you.” He again tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, offering her a smile.

  An answering smile touched her lips, and she wrapped her fingers around his arm.

  He breathed a sigh of relief that her questions had ended.

  “And then what will you do?”

  His relief vanished in an instant. He could only deny whatever suspicions she had. How he hated to lie, especially to her. If there were any way to avoid it, he would, but she was pressing him into a corner, leaving him no choice.

  “Perhaps you’d care to explain your question.”

  She paused as though debating her response then glanced around to make certain no one could overhear. “Are you returning to his house to look in his library?”

  He stilled, his mind racing for a way to deny her charge without lying. “Whatever for?”

  She scoffed. “For whatever you didn’t find before you were interrupted the last time.”

  “I told you that I—”

  With a graceful wave of her hand, she dismissed his protest. “Yes, yes, but we both know that wasn’t the truth.” After several moments of silence, she sought his gaze once more, a strange light glittering in her eyes. “I want to come with you.”

  “No.” He realized too late that his response confirmed her suspicion. Yet the idea of her breaking into Stafford’s home with him stole his breath. Where were his espionage skills when he most needed them? He should’ve easily been able to deflect her questions and deny her allegations. What was wrong with him?

  “I insist. You’re injured and might need assistance. Should we go now? We could return before anyone notes our absence.” She looked about as though seeking the closest door to make good their escape.

  “Have you lost your senses?” He swallowed back the panic that threatened at the idea of her in danger. Because of him. “We will do no such thing.”

  “I will keep watch and alert you if anyone is coming.”

  “And if we’re caught?”

  “We won’t be. I have faith in your ability to avoid such an outcome.”

  Her confidence caused the oddest sensation to spread through him, heating him from the inside out. The treacherous feeling had him actually considering the idea. “I thought you insisted you had to save me the last time I was in Stafford’s library.”

  “That is exactly why I should come along.” She gave a single nod to emphasize her point.

  “Your logic escapes me.” He had the urge to turn in a circle to see if it would help him understand her mind.

  “Come, let us tell my mother... What shall we tell her? I don’t want her to worry.”

  Ah. That provided the perfect excuse for her to remain behind. “Nor do I. You should stay here. Perhaps you could circulate through the room and see if anyone is talking about Stafford.”

  “Is that what you do?” At his incredulous look, she shrugged. “I noticed you often enter parties like this one through the garden then move slowly around the room, pausing here and there.”

  “Don’t you do the same?” Alarm had him drawing a deep breath. How could the issue with the shipping company have caused her to leap to such conclusions?

  “Not the way you do.” She patted his arm. “I don’t think anyone else notices, if that is what has you concerned. You’re quite subtle.”

  He couldn’t think of a response. His mind had frozen when she’d suggested she accompany him and had yet to thaw.

  “Let us go now,” she urged. “His residence isn’t far from here. We can easily return before an hour has passed. I’ll beg Annabelle to make an excuse for me if Mother notes my absence.”

  “You are incorrigible.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you. I’d be devastated if you said I was boring.”

  Despite every bone in his body protesting, he soon found himself walking toward the terrace door with Caroline at his side. What magical spell had she cast on him?

  ~*~

  Nerves tingled deep inside Caroline as she settled into Richard’s carriage beside him. She felt positively wicked for leaving without a chaperone. When she considered what they intended to do, she could hardly breathe.

  But what better way to find out more about his activities than to accompany him on such an outing?

  Incorrigible? Perhaps. She blamed her relentless determination on her protective streak. Nothing was more important to her than family. If Richard was going to join their family, she needed to know what he was doing and why. Though she still knew little, this was one small step in the right direction.

  “How exactly do we go about breaking into his home? Or do you simply knock on the door and tell the servant who answers that you left something in the library during the ball they held?”

  The bland look Richard cast her threatened to strike that last option from her mind.

  “I think it could work,” she said as she tapped her gloved finger on her lower lip, “Though I do see the advantage of sneaking in instead.”

  He heaved a beleaguered sigh, shook his head, and kept his gaze fixed out the carriage window.

  The streets were quiet, and they arrived near the Staffords’ home within ten minutes. Anticipation filled Caroline as the carriage drew to a halt.

  “Wait here.” Richard didn’t bother to look at her as he reached for the door.

  “I will not. What good would that do?”

  “Caroline—”

  “We’re wasting time.” She sat forward, making it clear she was not remaining behind.

  The growl that came from Richard’s throat had her eyes widening in surprise. But she ignored the war
ning and followed him out the carriage door.

  The night was dark, the sky shrouded with clouds that hid the moon. A streetlight gave a faint glow a short distance away but not enough to penetrate the blackness.

  She had the distinct feeling Richard was ignoring her, or at least trying to. After giving instructions to his driver, he walked along the street at a casual pace and, much to her surprise, they passed the front gate of the home.

  He continued down the street until he reached the alleyway, then circled to the rear of the house. The only lights came from what had to be the kitchen and from the uppermost level where the servants’ rooms were.

  Though a flurry of questions crossed her mind, she held her silence. She didn’t think Richard would welcome them.

  The back gate creaked as Richard opened it. They both paused, waiting to see if the sound brought anyone running. When the night remained quiet, he continued to the side of the house, and she quickly followed. The darkness made the garden an exotic jungle with odd shapes blocking their path, causing her to catch her breath in alarm more than once.

  A light to see more clearly would be welcome, but she realized it might alert someone to their presence. She’d never given much thought to the details of how a break-in could be accomplished. Part of her mind was fascinated by the process, realizing why Annabelle loved writing about this sort of thing, but the other part choked back fear at what could happen.

  What if she was wrong and the Staffords weren’t gone after all? It would be her fault if she and Richard were caught. The thought caused fear to overtake her curiosity. This suddenly seemed like a terrible idea.

  “Richard,” she whispered, only to realize he’d moved ahead of her onto the terrace.

  He turned to look at her and held a finger to his lips. At least she thought he did. It was nearly too dark to see for certain. He bent down and she caught the shape of a knife in his hand. Somehow the sight of the weapon in his grasp set her heart pounding.

  When she realized he merely used the blade to pop the lock on the French doors that led to the library, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he wasn’t anticipating the need to defend them after all.

  Within moments, he eased open the door. “Wait here. Let me know if someone is coming.”

  She frowned at his request. “No one is going to come in through the garden except us. Why don’t I keep watch at the interior door in case one of the servants decides to enter the library?”

  He shook his head and continued inside where he paused to listen.

  She waited, listening as well. Rather than the peaceful quiet of an empty library, the silence was deafening. She blamed the sensation on her nerves but couldn’t rid herself of the oppressive feeling.

  Despite her unease, she was determined to help. With slow, deep breaths, she stepped inside. The room was so dark, it was impossible to see anything. How on earth could they search for something when they couldn’t even see the desk?

  A light flared to life in Richard’s hand. The sight of a candle flame calmed Caroline’s anxiety somewhat. She felt the weight of Richard’s gaze and forced herself to turn to study the room. No doubt he worried her nerves would get the best of her. She refused to allow that to happen.

  The room was much as she remembered from her brief time in it the previous week. The chair where she’d sat on Richard’s lap caught her gaze, bringing heat to her cheeks at the memory.

  As Richard moved toward the desk, Caroline eased toward the door, being as quiet as possible. She placed her ear near the door but heard nothing.

  Richard set the stubby candle on the desk and dropped to one knee. The sound of drawers sliding, and the rustle of papers reached her ears.

  Several minutes passed. No one seemed aware of their presence. Standing by the door felt like a waste of time when she could be assisting Richard in the search. Granted, she didn’t know for what they were searching, but listening for someone who wasn’t coming didn’t feel productive in the least.

  She tiptoed across the room to stand beside Richard. “What are we looking for?” she whispered.

  “I thought you were watching to make sure we’re not caught.”

  “No one knows we’re here. I think my time would be better spent helping you search.” She eased open a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers from inside.

  “Be certain not to disturb anything. Return everything to its original place.”

  His quiet words brought to mind the image of the viscount sorting through these same papers, realizing they weren’t in the order he’d left them. Heart racing once again, she set the papers on the desk and looked through them more carefully.

  She didn’t see anything of interest but she still didn’t know why Richard wanted to search Stafford’s desk. “Is there anything specific I should watch for?”

  “Anything unusual.”

  Caroline stared at Richard. Did he not realize this entire situation was “unusual” to her? Rather than ask more questions, she tried to think of what that might be. She’d been through her father’s correspondence often enough that she could surely spot something out of the ordinary.

  The papers contained a few personal letters from relatives, but they didn’t note anything of interest. Others were from Stafford’s man of business, cautioning against the amount of spending the viscount had done of late. Perhaps his fortune wasn’t as large as rumors suggested.

  Muffled voices penetrated her concentration. She looked up in alarm, meeting Richard’s gaze. He wet his fingers and snuffed out the candle.

  Hands shaking, she gathered the papers she’d been reading and returned them to the drawer, doing her best not to slam it closed in her haste.

  “His lordship won’t mind if we borrow that book.” The library door opened, and the man’s voice echoed in the room. “We’ll put it back before he returns, and he’ll be none the wiser.”

  Richard grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. They crawled along the floor, remaining low until they reached a chair near the window. The fabric of her gown rustled with each movement, making her cringe. Richard guided her to the window and eased them both to stand hidden by the drapes.

  Caroline had never been so frightened in her entire life. If Richard hadn’t tugged her along, she’d still be standing by the desk, frozen with fear.

  As though sensing her fright, Richard held her close. The warmth of his body calmed her trembling. She pressed her face against his shoulder, hoping to slow her rapid breathing. He tipped his head so his forehead touched hers, his solid strength seeping into her. There was no one she’d rather be in this situation with than him.

  “Over here by his desk.”

  “It don’t feel right to be in his lordship’s library without his permission.” The woman sounded older, and a metal clinking accompanied her progress across the room. Perhaps she was the housekeeper.

  “Do you want to look at the book on herbs or not?” the man asked.

  “I do, I do. I’ll put the text back come morning.”

  A faint glow came from the edges of the drapes. The servants were coming too close for comfort.

  “Here it is.”

  “Oh, something fell from the book,” the woman replied. “What shall I do with this?”

  “Leave it on the desk for now. Place it back in the book on the morrow.”

  “All right.”

  The sound of the door shutting allowed Caroline to draw a deep breath. She started to move away, realizing how closely she stood next to Richard, but he held her still.

  They waited another minute or two before he at last released her. Richard lit the candle again and moved to the desk to pick up the paper the woman had found.

  “Anything interesting?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Apparently, the viscount is having an affair with an actress.”

  “Oh, my.”

  He folded the paper and returned it to the exact position in which he’d found it.

  “Are we fi
nished?” Caroline asked, hoping they were. Her nerves couldn’t take much more.

  “One more place.” But rather than open a drawer, he lowered to search under the desk, running his hand along the surface.

  She watched in silence then realized she was once again wasting time. She turned to look over the bookshelves near her. Perhaps another missive was tucked amongst the books.

  Unfortunately, neither of them found anything of interest despite several more minutes of searching.

  Richard gestured for her to precede him to the French doors then held the candle high to look around the room as though to make certain they hadn’t left anything out of place.

  She opened the door, relieved when he followed her out and locked the door behind them.

  Within a few short minutes, they had returned to his carriage. As they drove back to the ball, Caroline put her hand on Richard’s arm, more determined than ever to find out what Richard was about. She knew little more than when they’d left the ball.

  She leveled a steady stare. “You still haven’t told me what you were looking for.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Richard nearly groaned. He’d hoped the close call during their search would’ve made Caroline happy to put the whole situation behind her, including her questions. The way she’d trembled in his arms made her fear evident.

  He should’ve known better.

  He admired her determination even though he was frustrated by her persistence. What could he do but tell her as much of the truth as possible?

  “You do realize I wasn’t there to steal anything.”

  She nodded, waiting for more, the carriage light illuminating half her face with the other remaining in shadows, much like their relationship.

  “I must ask you once again to trust me.”

  “Do you intend to harm the viscount?”

  That was difficult to answer. It depended on what Stafford was doing. If he was Le Sournois, then yes, Richard intended to kill him. But he wouldn’t tell Caroline that. “Not without cause. If he plans to hurt others or England because of his beliefs, I will take action.”

  “Surely you can tell me more than that.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. Not at this time.” Perhaps not ever, but he didn’t say that.