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

by Lana Williams

  He cleared his throat, intending to express his dismay that she’d mentioned his financial issues to Aberland the next time he saw her. Yet he decided a gentler approach would be best.

  “The Earl of Aberland approached me yesterday.”

  “Oh?” She looked at him, and he was surprised to see curiosity in her expression rather than guilt.

  “You don't know the reason?” He had difficulty believing that.

  She blinked. “I did mention your name the other day when he and Caroline were discussing a potential new investment. Did he mention it?” The interest in her expression held no hint of regret or concern.

  “Yes, he did.” Perhaps he had misjudged her and she hadn’t raised the topic of his lack of funds with Aberland.

  “He mentioned he was considering a few other investors, and I asked if he had ever worked with you.”

  “And?”

  “He said he thought that was an excellent idea, and he'd mention it to you next time he saw you. Are you going to participate?” When he frowned, she waved a gloved hand. “Forgive me. It is none of my business.”

  His expression must have been one of surprise for her mouth quirked.

  “I am well aware that I offer my opinion far too often.” She shook her head. “I suppose I am used to doing so with my sisters and now I do the same with their husbands. It's become a habit that I should curb, according to my mother.”

  “It's an effective weapon,” Edward said as he dipped his head toward the riverbank to suggest they ride in that direction.

  “A weapon?” Her brow puckered as if she were confused by his word choice as she turned her mare toward the water.

  “I think you enjoy being outspoken. It puts others off balance.” He drew his horse to a halt once they reached the river and dismounted.

  She looked at him in surprise as a lovely blush rose in her cheeks. “Yes, I suppose it does. I will say that it has come in handy a few times when dealing with some of the more arrogant men with whom I’m acquainted. I grow weary of them thinking all women are empty-headed.”

  “I don't believe anyone would think that of you.” He certainly didn’t.

  Margaret prepared to dismount, and Edward stepped forward to assist her from the saddle. She was light and graceful as he lifted her to the ground. He nodded at the groom who came forward to take their reins. As if of one mind, they both walked along the riverbank, admiring the view. Several ducks fed along the shore, and they paused to watch them.

  “Since you already believe me to be outspoken, it won't hurt if I mention that while it is all well and good to cut expenses, one must also consider making more money as well.” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes as if to see how he was taking her advice.

  “What makes you an expert in such matters?” he asked, unable to keep the doubt from his tone.

  “Experience.” She hesitated as if uncertain how much she wanted to say. “I assume we speak in confidence?”

  He nodded.

  “When my father first displayed symptoms of confusion, he was talked into an investment that lost a significant sum. Added to that were one or two bad business decisions and suddenly our circumstances had changed drastically. As I mentioned before, I am very well acquainted with living within a certain means.”

  She worried her bottom lip as if trying to select her words carefully.

  “It wasn't until Aberland married Caroline that we realized earning money was as important as saving it. However, that can be difficult when one has limited funds.”

  “On that, we agree.” He had to admit investments weren’t anything he’d considered since inheriting. Perhaps he was looking at it wrong. He needed to think long-term as well as prepare for the coming months. One thing was clear. He needed to do whatever he could to be able to participate in the investment Aberland mentioned. He need only determine how.

  That worry was for later when he was alone and could consider the possibilities.

  “Thank you.” He paused to face her under the boughs of a tree.

  “For what?”

  “For thinking of me. I don’t know how it will proceed, but I do appreciate it.”

  She shook her head. “Mentioning your name was natural. Certainly nothing worth thanking me for. You were on my mind.” Her lashes fluttered and a lovely shade of rose filled her cheeks again at the admission.

  Awareness washed over him, seeping into every part of him. The least he could do was meet her honesty with some of his own. “You’ve been in my thoughts as well. Should I apologize?”

  Her blush deepened yet her gaze met his, the warmth in her dark eyes heating his blood. “For the kiss?”

  It was rather uncanny that she so frequently knew what he meant. “Yes.”

  “No need.” At last, she looked away. Her chest rose and fell as if she drew a deep breath.

  “Good.” Edward removed his gloves to tuck them in his pocket.

  She looked back at him, obviously puzzled. “Good?”

  He took a step closer, the lure of her too much to resist. “Good.” He gave a single nod. “Because I don’t regret it.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes darkened and to his surprise, her gaze fell to his lips.

  “Good,” he repeated. “Because I would like to do it again.” He reached for her, placing his hand on the softness of her cheek even as he made sure his back was to the groom standing some distance away.

  “You would?” Her breathlessness stirred him. Did she feel the same desire pulsing through her that he did?

  “I would.” He was done talking. He leaned in and took her mouth, surprised by the immediate jolt their connection caused. The faint scent of gardenias teased him, mixed with the freshness of the outdoors.

  He deepened the kiss, pleased when her lips parted to allow him entrance. Her tongue swept along his and desire flooded over him. He didn’t pretend to understand this elemental spark they shared. For the moment, he simply enjoyed it.

  At last, he pulled back, despite his need for more.

  “You are special, Margaret.”

  “As are you, Edward.” Trust her to not play coy but to meet his gaze with that open honesty he found so refreshing.

  He knew he shouldn’t have kissed her on the first occasion. He certainly shouldn’t have kissed her this second time. Not when nothing could come of it. But he found her impossible to resist. He only hoped she didn’t make too much of the kisses they’d shared.

  “I suppose we must be on about our day,” he said quietly.

  When she nodded in agreement, he took her hand and tucked it under his arm then turned toward the horses.

  He didn’t bother to tell himself to keep his distance from Margaret, because he was beginning to realize that was impossible.

  Chapter Seven

  Margaret entered the haberdashery on Bond Street the following afternoon where she was to meet Charlotte to select several bonnets to go with her new gowns. A tremble of nerves struck her as she spotted her friend perusing the various bonnets. Would Charlotte somehow be able to guess that Edward had kissed her, not once but twice? Why did she feel as if it were written across her face?

  She gave herself a mental shake at the ridiculous worry. It wasn't as if Edward would mention their encounters to anyone let alone his sister. And she certainly didn't intend to tell Charlotte.

  Margaret didn't want anyone to know. Not now. Possibly not ever.

  How could she explain her emotions about Edward to anyone when she didn't understand them herself? All she could say was that he was different than she had thought. His care and concern over her issues about her father had touched something deep inside her. The details he’d shared on his complicated feelings about his own father linked them in an unexpected way.

  But it was so much more than that. She had relived their kisses too many times to count, comparing them and finding each one unique and enjoyable. She feared that any kisses from this point forward with other men would pale in comparison. Not that she i
ntended to kiss anyone else. Which was probably a good thing since Edward had quite possibly ruined her for another man.

  Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the kisses?

  “Good afternoon, Charlotte.” Margaret smiled, doing her best to ignore the heat that crept up her cheeks.

  “Good afternoon.” Charlotte returned the smile, her gaze lingering over Margaret's face. “I hope the day finds you well.”

  “Indeed, it does. And you?” The stilted conversation was only making her look guiltier. As if she were hiding something, which she was.

  Good heavens. She quelled the urge to rap her head to settle her spinning thoughts. Her best hope was to turn the topic of the conversation before Charlotte questioned her distress.

  She focused on the bonnets before them and selected one she liked. “This one would be perfect with the striped muslin, don't you think?”

  Charlotte took the bonnet and turned it this way and that. “Do you think so? The brim is quite wide.”

  “Which makes it the perfect frame for your face,” Margaret countered. “Why don't you try it on?”

  She breathed a sigh of relief as Charlotte removed her bonnet and tried on the new one.

  “Do you care to explain what has you so rattled?” Charlotte didn't look at her but focused on adjusting the bonnet on her hair.

  Margaret sighed. How silly to think her friend wouldn’t notice her inner turmoil.

  “Only a situation with Father.” Margaret pursed her lips, annoyed to be lying to her friend. Yet what else could she say? I was up half the night thinking about the kiss I shared with your brother. She could imagine Charlotte’s shock if she were to admit such a thing.

  Why couldn't she remember that Edward was a rogue? A man experienced in the ways of wooing a woman. No doubt he hadn't meant anything by those kisses. He probably hadn’t been stirred by them in the least. Yet the glint in his eyes afterward made her wonder.

  “Oh?” Charlotte reached out to squeeze Margaret's hand with a sympathetic look. “Have things worsened?”

  Margaret glanced about to make certain they wouldn't be overheard. “He didn't remember me the day before yesterday and asked the butler to show me out and find Annabelle.” She was still hurt by the moment.

  “Oh dear.” Charlotte shook her head. “I'm so sorry. What did you do?”

  “What could I do? I remained in my room and out of his sight for the remainder of the day. Mother didn’t think it would be wise to press him.”

  “And? Has he improved?”

  “Yes. He greeted me like normal yesterday when I returned from a morning ride.”

  “What a relief. Let us hope that doesn’t happen again.” She turned her attention to the bonnet. “How funny. Edward went for a ride yesterday morning as well.”

  “Oh? Perhaps I wasn't the only one who needed to clear my head.” She nearly grimaced at her words but worried anything more would allow Charlotte to guess that she had not only seen Edward but spoken to him.

  Not only spoken to him but kissed him.

  She bit her lip as she gave herself a silent reprimand. Now her thoughts were right back to where she'd started.

  Bonnets. She needed to focus on bonnets.

  Margaret moved farther along the shelves and found a lovely ribbon that would complement the Spencer she was making for Charlotte.

  “How do you feel about fruit?” Charlotte asked.

  “I like fruit. Oranges, especially.” Edward had tasted faintly like oranges. She nearly gasped at the unbidden thought before turning to look at her friend, uncertain why Charlotte would ask.

  “On the bonnet.” Charlotte sent her a puzzled look.

  “Oh. Of course. I would avoid fruit or birds or anything of that nature. Ribbons and flowers with the occasional feather are better. Those are more likely to stay in fashion. Besides, you wouldn’t want a bonnet to draw more notice than your gown. While the appearance of a bonnet can be updated, it's easier to keep it simple.”

  “Excellent advice.”

  Margaret could feel Charlotte's continuing glances as if she were certain something was amiss.

  “Have you seen Viscount Redmond of late?” she asked. The question would surely shift Charlotte's attention.

  Charlotte’s slow smile lit up her face. “He called yesterday afternoon and also joined us for dinner. I simply cannot wait until we're married and we can spend more time together.” Her brow puckered. “Although I do worry about Mother and how she will deal with my absence.”

  “She has renewed several friendships of late, hasn't she?”

  “Yes, but she still spends a significant time alone.”

  Margaret knew Charlotte worried about that when, in the past, the countess had used the time alone to indulge in drinking more than she should.

  As if she read her thoughts, Charlotte waved a hand in dismissal. “I have no reason to worry, but I do want her to be happy.”

  “I suppose each of us must be responsible for our own happiness.” Margaret had given the matter much thought. Especially given her mixed emotions over her decision about her future.

  Margaret would never play the role of a martyr with her choice of helping her parents and certainly intended to be happy. While in part she felt it was her duty, she also did it out of love. Her intention not to marry wasn't a sacrifice on her part, but a gift from her heart.

  She didn’t want her sisters to feel guilty for pursuing their own lives. Though the past two days with her father’s forgetfulness had made her doubt her plan, she had to find a way to take such things in stride. It would happen again. How she dealt with it was what mattered.

  Countess Wynn needed to find her own happiness as well, regardless of whether Charlotte lived under the same roof.

  While Margaret appreciated Charlotte’s concern, she also wanted her friend to hold tight to the joy she and the viscount had found. Love was nothing to be dismissed lightly. It was a gift to be treasured each and every day. Her mother had taught all of her daughters that.

  With the ribbon still in hand, she turned to face Charlotte. “I’m sure you will never stop worrying about her. But perhaps the coming months will bring her happiness as well. The fact that she has been in touch with friends is surely a good sign.”

  “It is.” Charlotte nodded in agreement though seemed unconvinced.

  “Perhaps when Edward marries...” She swallowed hard at the thought, surprised to realize how disturbing it was, before continuing, “your mother might find another friend.” She studied Charlotte, wondering if Edward had mentioned his intent to find a bride soon. If he had, that would be one more reason for Margaret to keep her distance from him.

  Charlotte smiled. “You might be right. Though who knows when he will decide to take a wife. He certainly seems in no hurry to do so.”

  Relief warred with frustration inside Margaret, tilting her world once again. How could she continue to offer her opinion on his selection of a potential bride given the kisses they’d shared? The situation was impossible, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  ~*~

  Edward knocked on the door of his mother's sitting room that adjoined her bedchamber that afternoon then opened the door and looked inside. “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  He was relieved to see her working on the same complicated embroidery piece that had held her attention for the past few weeks. The bright colors were now taking the shape of flowers in a garden scene.

  “Good morning, dear.” She looked up with a smile after completing a stitch.

  Contentment softened her face as she sat in her favorite chair by the window. Her embroidery basket was on the floor at her feet, overflowing with colorful threads and the pair of ornate scissors he’d given her for Christmas. Two books sat on the nearby table suggesting she had also been reading when she grew weary of embroidery.

  The scene was much different than a year ago. While she had spent much time alone in the past, he had only come upon her staring listlessly out the
window with a vacant expression rather than involved in any activity. Now she seemed genuinely happy. He was loathed to disturb her. Yet the issue he needed to discuss with her couldn't wait.

  “What brings you to visit me this afternoon?” she asked.

  “Can't I simply stop in to say hello?” He needed to do so more often, he thought as he settled into the chair next to her. He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles as if he had all the time in the world to talk with her.

  She chuckled. “I believe I know you well enough to tell that something is on your mind.”

  Though she acted calm, he noticed the slight tightening of her expression as if she expected bad news. No doubt that was often what she had received from her husband. Lord Wynn had taken a certain satisfaction in telling her things she didn't want to hear.

  Edward knew it had often been deliberate—as if his father wanted to make certain she was as miserable as he was. He seemed unable to resist toying with her at times. No wonder his mother had tucked away all emotion, keeping her thoughts carefully hidden. She had learned not to react to her husband’s statements.

  Edward loved that she was slowly coming back into herself and hoped his request didn't set her back.

  “There is something I wanted to discuss with you,” he began.

  “Of course.” She watched him carefully for a moment then took another stitch.

  “I have been presented with an investment opportunity that could prove lucrative.”

  Her brow crinkled as if she were confused as to why he would mention it to her.

  “As you are aware, our current situation means investing isn't easy to do,” he added.

  She nodded. “What you mean to say is that your father did not tend to financial matters as he should have.”

  Edward knew he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. They’d had a similar conversation shortly after his father's death when Edward had realized the truth. He’d advised both his mother and Charlotte about the situation with the hope of keeping them from spending money unnecessarily.

  “I thought we had already cut expenses as deeply as we could.” She paused with the needle poised above the fabric. “I'm not certain how else I can be of assistance.”