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

by Lana Williams

  “With Miss Penworthy?” Edward had seen him with the lady on several occasions of late.

  “I have not yet decided. My father would rather I marry someone with a larger dowry.”

  “That seems to be a common theme of fathers.” His certainly had offered the same advice. “Not only are we supposed to marry wealth but to someone with a title greater than our own.”

  Chivington chuckled. “True. How our sires expect us to catch the eye of a lady when we have nothing they need is beyond me.”

  “Surely you have more faith than that in your charm and good looks,” Edward jested.

  “If only such things paid our accounts.” His gaze met Edward’s. “Will you soon be joining Redmond and saying your vows? I thought Lady Prudence had caught your interest last month but then I saw you with Miss Gold several times. She is a prickly thing but certainly attractive. Or perhaps it is Lady Dorothy who has caught your interest.”

  Edward shook his head. “You make it sound as if I’m chasing several at a time.” In truth, there was only one he was willing to chase if he had a choice, but she didn’t seem to want him.

  “Do you perform an assessment to decide whether a lady will suit?” Chivington seemed genuinely curious.

  “Nothing of the sort. It's difficult to come to know a lady without causing gossip.” He wasn’t about to confess that he also intended to marry an heiress as he’d prefer that news didn’t spread.

  No matter how many times he told himself Lady Dorothy seemed like the perfect choice, he couldn't release his feelings for Margaret, and he had no idea what to do about it.

  The conversation paused briefly as a waiter stopped at the table to take their drink orders.

  “According to my mother, Lady Dorothy would be perfect for me,” Chivington continued, his voice low. “Of course, she said that after she heard about the lady’s generous dowry.” The sum he named gave Edward pause.

  While Edward had expected it to be considerable, he hadn’t known the exact amount. Those funds would not only repair the roof and other damage at their country estate but would make serious inroads into the debt he owed Redmond and the other improvements that had only been a fleeting wish before now. His chest tightened as he considered all that could be done.

  Yet something deep inside him rebelled at the idea and not just because it would’ve been what his father wanted. Why did he have to choose between happiness and money? Between attraction and duty?

  At that moment, he realized that if given the choice, he would choose Margaret without hesitation. Money couldn't buy happiness nor could it by love. But if he couldn't have Margaret, shouldn’t he seriously consider Lady Dorothy?

  “There is no denying the lady’s beauty,” Chivington continued, “but one wonders at her thoughts.”

  “Oh?” Had the viscount noticed her agreeableness as well?

  “We were speaking about the difficulties our country faces after the war, and she agreed with everything I said. Even when I presented both sides of an issue.” He frowned. “Either she has no strong opinions of her own or her mother has advised her to always agree with what a gentleman says. While I would have said that I preferred a woman who didn't carry strong opinions, being with Lady Dorothy is making me reconsider.”

  Edward had to smile, somewhat relieved that he wasn't the only one who’d noted it. Perhaps Chivington was right and she did so because her mother encouraged her to. If that was her only flaw, it could be worked through.

  Yet Edward couldn’t imagine Lady Dorothy moving into his home. Not when he had no desire to hold her or kiss her. If he married her, he feared he’d be forever imagining Margaret in his arms instead.

  The realization was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Redmond joined them with a smile. “I hope the day finds you both well.”

  “It does indeed.” Chivington rose to shake his hand.

  “What topic has the two of you so deeply engrossed?”

  “Marriage,” Chivington answered for them both.

  Redmond chuckled. “How surprising. That topic is often in my thoughts as well these days.” The satisfied smile he offered had Edward studying him closer. His friend was obviously very happy at the idea of his upcoming marriage to Charlotte. That wasn't news to Edward, nor was the pang of envy that speared through him.

  “I must say I’m rather jealous of you, Redmond,” Chivington said as they took their seats. “You seem to have found the perfect bride-to-be. If only it were that easy for the rest of us.”

  “Easy?” Redmond ran a finger along his upper lip, eyes narrowing as if considering the word. He glanced at Edward. “Please know that I mean no offense to your sister, but I would not call my courtship of Charlotte easy.”

  Edward grinned at his friend. “Nor would I, and I only know a small part of the details.”

  Redmond's expression sobered, and Edward realized he was thinking of the late earl’s death. It seemed that neither he nor Charlotte or Redmond had been able to completely absolve the guilt at his death. Edward detested the fact that it would forever be a shadow over all of them.

  He frowned as he studied Redmond. If they had been alone, he would have reminded him what the doctor had said—the earl had a bad heart, and sooner or later it would have given way. Edward only wished it hadn't been the day they confronted him.

  Redmond cleared his throat. “However, I will say that the bumpy road to happiness was worth the trials we faced. I suppose one could say that adversity can bring you closer.”

  “Or make it clear that you don't belong together,” Chivington added with a wry smile.

  “Exactly. I have to think it is in your best interest to experience a few challenges before stepping into wedlock. My parents insist that they continue to work on their marriage every day.”

  “They certainly seem happy together,” Edward said.

  Edward had often compared his own parents’ marriage to that of the Earl and Countess of Redmond since he and Redmond had become friends years ago. How different the two had been.

  “What made you certain that your affection for Lady Charlotte was worth the time and energy to overcome the obstacles you encountered?” Chivington asked after the waiter had brought them drinks.

  Redmond smiled. “It’s quite simple really. Because I couldn’t live without her.”

  Edward shifted in his chair as the words sank in. What did one do when forced to live without the woman he wanted? He pressed his lips tight before the question popped out. He didn’t want to know.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Margaret left Annabelle to visit with a friend and searched among the guests at Lady Clarke’s garden party for Charlotte. She hadn’t seen her for over a week and missed her dearly. However, Margaret hadn’t attended any balls in an effort to avoid Edward. The garden party posed less risk as it was unlikely he would be there.

  This particular garden—owned by Viscount Redmond’s aunt—was one of Margaret’s favorites to visit. Lady Clarke had created the perfect whimsical English garden and hosted a party each year to share its beauty, as well as to boast a bit. Margaret much preferred the fanciful layout over the more formal French style often used in England that she’d seen firsthand in Paris.

  None of the paths were straight, and climbing vines and overflowing plants were visible everywhere. Flowers of varying colors and sizes spilled out of the beds and planters. One never knew what might be discovered around the next curve. It was the perfect place to wander on a sunny afternoon.

  Already many guests were enjoying the garden as well as the lemonade and refreshments offered in a tent at the edge of the lawn.

  Margaret was distracted in her search for Charlotte by the most beautiful peonies she had ever seen. She couldn't resist reaching out to touch a delicate pink petal, finding it as soft as she had expected. She wondered if Viscount Redmond’s aunt would share where she had acquired them. Peonies were her mother’s favorite and would
be the perfect addition to their garden.

  She straightened only to stiffen in shock as her gaze caught on Edward. He stood a short distance away, conversing with Lady Dorothy. Her heart sank as she watched the pair, yet she couldn't tear away her gaze. They looked perfect together, both attractive and happy. Lady Dorothy was a delicate beauty dressed in pale blue muslin. The top of her golden head barely came to Edward’s shoulder—his ever-so-broad shoulder.

  A well of emotions—longing, desire, and something even stronger—sent her off balance as if she’d been too long at sea and couldn’t find purchase after returning to land. What was it about him that created this physical reaction? Her mouth was dry. Her palms were damp. Her heart raced. But none of that compared to the piercing ache to be with him.

  Margaret drew a sharp breath, trying to gather her senses. This would never do. She was bound to run into him in the coming weeks, along with whoever he chose for a wife, especially since she intended to remain friends with Charlotte. She had to find a way to deal with her feelings.

  Despite all those thoughts, she turned away, shocked to find she had to blink back tears. It wasn't as if she’d thought her feelings for him had faded in the week since she’d last seen him, but she certainly hadn't expected them to grow stronger. She pressed a hand against her middle, hoping to settle the flutters there. Perhaps she should find Annabelle and tell her she wasn't feeling well and wanted to return home.

  “Margaret? There you are.” Charlotte looped her arm through Margaret's with a broad smile only to still. “What is it? What's wrong?”

  No lie came readily to Margaret’s lips to explain how she felt. So she shook her head, hoping her friend would understand.

  Charlotte’s concern only seemed to grow. She glanced around then tightened her hold on Margaret's arm. “What has happened?”

  I am in love with your brother and seeing him with someone else hurts. The fullness of that truth frightened Margaret. While she had known her feelings were deepening, when had it become love? “Ignore me. All is well.” She forced a smile as she held her friend’s gaze.

  “Something must be upsetting you.”

  “Barclay has advised us he will be retiring soon. I suppose the news still has me upset.” Margaret breathed a sigh of relief at the excuse. At least she hadn't completely lied to her friend.

  “Oh dear. That is bad news. Whatever will you do?”

  “We are discussing various options. I'm sure we will be able to find another butler but...” She let the thought trail off.

  “Not one who deals with your father as well as Barclay.” Charlotte’s eyes were full of sympathy.

  “Exactly. But we shall see. Enough about me. How are you?”

  “Lovely,” Charlotte said, her smile returning. “Both my mother and Edward accompanied me today. They want to become better acquainted with James’ family, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity as they are in attendance as well.”

  If only Margaret had thought of that sooner. It made perfect sense. “How nice. Where is your mother?” Margaret looked about, hoping the countess was in the opposite direction of Edward and Lady Dorothy.

  “Just over here.” Charlotte gestured toward Edward, and Margaret could see that Lady Wynn also stood nearby, visiting with another guest. “Please come and say hello. She’ll be pleased to see you.”

  Margaret braced herself as Charlotte pulled her forward. “I didn’t think your mother used to like me overmuch. How nice to know her feelings have changed.”

  “That was my father’s fault, but she adores you now that she’s come to know you better. Especially after the suggestions you had for her most recent gown. She is giddy with excitement over wearing it at the next ball.”

  Margaret chuckled at the thought of the countess acting giddy about anything, let alone a gown. The sound apparently caught Edward’s notice as his head snapped around and his gaze locked with hers.

  “Lord Wynn,” she said as she curtsied. Everything else fell away as she drank in his appearance, noting the stormy blue of his eyes, the lock of hair across his forehead. Her gloved hand balled into a fist to contain the urge to touch him.

  “Miss Gold.” He bowed.

  The silence stretched long as they stared at each other until at last Margaret blinked and forced her gaze to meet Lady Dorothy's. “Good day.”

  “Miss Gold. May I say how lovely your gown is?”

  “Thank you.” Margaret glanced down, having no recollection of what she had put on earlier. She rarely wore pink but this particular shade held a hint of purple as well, depending on the light. The gown was one of her own designs. She liked to think the long, narrow pleats along the bodice which were repeated in the swag near the hemline were details that added sophistication to the design.

  Unfortunately, she didn't think she could say the same about Lady Dorothy's ruffled gown. Its fussy style was one Margaret didn't care for. She much preferred clean lines that followed a woman's body regardless of how curvy she might be. Perhaps the numerous ruffles were Lady Dorothy’s mother’s choice.

  It took a moment for Margaret to realize the silence had grown awkward once again. When one was given a compliment, it was polite to do the same in return. Margaret refused to admire the lady’s gown so searched for something else. “That is a fine bonnet,” she said at last.

  Lady Dorothy smiled and patted her straw bonnet embellished with an alarming number of long blue feathers. “Why, thank you.”

  Margaret found herself meeting Edward’s gaze again. It truly was a pleasure to see him. She wanted to know how he was and whether he was finding Lady Dorothy to his liking.

  Actually, she didn't want to know the last bit. Not in the least.

  “Are you enjoying the garden party?” she asked, deciding it was a general enough topic that she could hold her composure.

  Amusement sparkled in the depths of his eyes, and she smiled in return. “Yes.” He glanced about. “Quite the variety of flowers.”

  Before he could say more his mother turned to join them.

  “Miss Gold, what a pleasure to see you.” To Margaret's shock, the Countess of Wynn reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I hope the day finds you well.”

  “It does indeed. And you?” Margaret glanced at Charlotte and Edward, finding them equally as puzzled by their mother’s behavior.

  “It is a beautiful day,” Lady Wynn said as she released Margaret's hand and glanced about. “This is such a lovely garden.” She looked back at Margaret. “Your gown is so pretty.” She turned to Edward with a pointed stare. “Wouldn't you agree, dear?”

  Edward frowned at his mother for a brief moment before nodding in agreement as his gaze met Margaret's. “Yes, it is. Very nice.”

  Lady Wynn nodded. “Then again your taste is impeccable, Miss Gold.” She frowned as she studied Lady Dorothy’s ruffles. Lady Dorothy shifted as if well aware of the countess’s displeasure.

  Margaret couldn't imagine for the life of her what was happening. It was almost as if the countess was encouraging Edward to pay attention to Margaret. Surely that had to be her imagination.

  “The garden is amazing, isn’t it?” Margaret asked to fill the silence. “What is your favorite flower?” She directed the question at Lady Dorothy, hoping to put her more at ease.

  The lady stared at her with a hint of panic in her blue eyes, as if she had no idea how to respond.

  “The roses, perhaps?” Margaret waited a moment, but still, she said nothing. “The dahlias and irises are quite nice as well. Or perhaps the peonies.”

  Lady Dorothy glanced at Edward as if hoping he’d tell her the right answer before suddenly bobbing her head up and down. “Yes. They are all very beautiful.”

  Irritation twisted Margaret’s lips. How could the lady not have an opinion on a favorite flower? And how could she not choose peonies when they were obviously the most beautiful?

  “Lady Dorothy, I believe your mother is looking for you,” the countess said.

&nb
sp; “She is?” Lady Dorothy appeared relieved. “Please excuse me for a moment.” Then she hurried away with the ruffles of her gown flouncing behind her.

  Margaret noted the satisfied expression on Lady Wynn’s face.

  “It seems an age since we have been together like this,” the older woman said. She smiled at each of them in turn. “Isn't it lovely to have us in one place again?”

  Margaret still didn't understand the countess’s odd behavior but found it rather amusing. Based on Charlotte and Edward’s expressions, they thought the same.

  “Perhaps we should have tea in the coming days,” Lady Wynn suggested. “Charlotte, you should check with Redmond and see when he could join us.”

  As if Edward knew what his mother was about and couldn’t resist teasing her, he asked, “Should I invite Lady Dorothy?”

  His mother frowned. “No need. Perhaps another time.”

  Margaret had difficulty holding back a smile. Never would she have guessed Lady Wynn would encourage her and Edward. But that was something Margaret couldn't allow. If they were together more often, she might reveal just how much she cared for him. Even now, she could hardly keep her gaze from his.

  She drew a deep breath, reminding herself that she would see him on a regular basis in the coming weeks. Surely she was mature enough to visit with him.

  Much to her relief the Marchioness of Whirlenhall joined them. “Good afternoon, everyone.” Her daughter had married the Earl of Granger and, given Redmond's involvement in Granger's charity, it was no surprise the marchioness now considered Viscount Redmond and Charlotte part of her extended family.

  They exchanged pleasantries as Miss Sarah Ramsey, the marchioness’s companion, joined them, standing just behind Lady Whirlenhall.

  Margaret tipped her head to better see her. “Good afternoon, Miss Ramsey.”

  Sarah's eyes widened briefly as if surprised by the greeting before she dipped into a curtsy. “And to all of you,” she said with a polite smile.

  Sarah was from the same village as Beatrice Walker and also shared the unfortunate terror of being taken to a brothel upon her arrival in London to find work. Luckily, Beatrice and her husband had rescued her before anything occurred. Sarah had stayed with Caroline for a few days afterward, and Margaret had gotten to know her and considered her a friend. But the last few times she had seen Sarah, the lady acted as if they were strangers. Was it because she was embarrassed about her past or did she believe her position as a companion meant she should remain invisible?