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

by Lana Williams

  “What has you thinking so hard?” Edward leaned close to whisper in her ear, sending a ripple of shivers along her skin.

  The rest of the group shifted away to admire a bright yellow rose, allowing Margaret to answer without anyone overhearing. “I wonder how Miss Ramsey is faring,” she replied. Though she didn’t think Edward wasn’t aware of Sarah’s experience, she knew he wouldn’t dismiss her concern.

  “Do you think the marchioness is overly demanding?”

  “No, but I thought a gentleman would have caught her eye by now and that she might find true happiness. She seems more like a shadow each time I see her.” She didn’t want to gossip about Sarah’s predicament, so decided to change the subject. “How are you finding Lady Dorothy?” she forced herself to ask, torn as to what she wanted to hear.

  Edward’s expression tightened as he eased back. “Fine, thank you.”

  “Excellent.” An aching emptiness filled her, and she avoided looking at him further. Obviously, she was not capable of being friends with him after all.

  ~*~

  Edward moved away from Margaret at the first opportunity. He couldn’t endure being with her. Not when he longed to take her into his arms and never let her go. His mother certainly wasn’t helping. Since when had she decided to play the role of matchmaker? How could she insinuate that he consider Margaret when she knew the standing of their finances? Perhaps it would help if he told his mother that Margaret was the one who’d suggested he court Lady Dorothy.

  “Lord Wynn, may I introduce my younger sister, Lady Minerva?”

  He shifted to see that Lady Dorothy had returned with a young lady who looked remarkably like her.

  “How good to make your acquaintance,” he said as she curtsied.

  “Dorothy has told me many nice things about you,” Lady Minerva said as she smiled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “I confess I wasn’t aware you had a sister.” Edward sent Lady Dorothy a pointed look as he specifically remembered asking about her family when he’d called on her. Why hadn’t she mentioned it? The more time he spent with her, the less he liked her. If she couldn’t share the simplest thing with him such as having a sister, how could they communicate about anything of importance?

  “Didn’t I mention her?” Lady Dorothy fluttered her lashes at him. When he didn’t respond, she looked about as if in search of another topic. “Which is your favorite flower, my lord?”

  “The peonies.” Obviously, they were the best. Anyone could see that.

  “Oh, yes. Those are my favorite as well.” She smiled at him, her overly adoring expression seeming to imply that he was the most wonderful person on earth.

  He resisted the urge to lift his eyes to the sky to find patience. Her agreeableness annoyed him beyond measure. With a stiff smile, he excused himself from the sisters before he said something he shouldn’t. The time had come to leave the party since he couldn’t contain his displeasure.

  He made his excuses to his family, thanked the hostess, and was striding through the deserted entrance hall when he came upon Margaret, who also seemed to be making an early exit.

  “Had enough of the flowers?” he asked, unable to keep irritability from his tone.

  “What has you in such sour spirits?” Her heated glare suggested she shared the same poor mood as he.

  “You.” The truth slipped out before he could stop it. But it was the truth. Seeing her had upended him and turned him inside out. Still, she didn’t deserve his foul mood.

  At the moment, she looked angry enough to spit. She was no wilting flower like Lady Dorothy, nor would she hesitate to tell him exactly how she felt. And he desperately wanted to kiss the temper from her face.

  “Margaret.” He took a step closer, prepared to explain, only to have her turn away.

  To his surprise, she marched into a small reception room just off the entrance, and his feet followed as if of their own accord. Luckily, the room stood empty, giving them some privacy.

  “I hardly think you can blame me,” Margaret began as she faced him, chest heaving, dark eyes flashing. How had he ever thought their color matched bitter coffee when it was clearly the shade of melted chocolate?

  “I have every reason to.” He drew closer, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard. His blood heated as he drew in her presence with every sense he possessed.

  “Name one.” Her chin lifted, and suddenly all he could see was her lips.

  “This.” He pressed his mouth to hers, expecting her to jerk away. Instead, she moaned.

  Desire flooded him, nearly buckling his knees. He reached to pull her against him as he deepened the kiss. The feel of her fingers along the back of his neck was heaven. The taste of her divine. The scent of her intoxicating.

  “Damn, but I’ve missed you,” he murmured between kisses.

  “And I you.” She tightened her hold on him, and his body hardened as passion took a firmer hold.

  “I don’t like Lady Dorothy,” he murmured only to silently curse. Why had he raised that particular subject?

  “Nor do I.”

  He smiled as he took her mouth once more, his tongue sweeping alongside hers until need pulsed through him. He squeezed her narrow waist then lowered his hands to her hips, eager to touch all of her.

  The sound of voices could be heard a short distance away. But Edward wasn’t ready to end the moment. Not when it had only just begun. He drew her backward with him until he neared the door and kicked it closed. For safekeeping, he leaned on it then pulled Margaret more tightly against him.

  “Edward.” She pressed kisses along his jaw then down his neck, her hands finding their way beneath his suit coat.

  His body was on fire, and there was only one way to extinguish the flames. He reached for the doorknob, thrilled to find a lock and appreciated the satisfying click it made.

  The small room held a settee for waiting visitors, and Edward was grateful for it. He guided Margaret toward the beckoning cushions and they sat together, still kissing.

  Margaret eased back to look at him, one brow raised, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of rose as she patted the settee. “How convenient.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” He knew he wasn’t thinking straight. This was a terrible risk even with the door locked. Someone might have seen them enter. Or someone might catch them when they left. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed a few more minutes with her before he let her go.

  He kissed her again, allowing his hands to roam over her curves. His lips found the delicate skin just below her ear, the sweet spot along her collarbone, and the tempting swell of her breasts. With a gentle touch, he held a hand along her ribs just below the soft mound before moving higher to capture it in full.

  Margaret arched into his touch, her hand cupping his cheek. “I can’t think of anything but you.”

  “You steal my thoughts and my dreams. I’ve been lost without you.” He paused to look into her eyes. “I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

  Her eyes darkened as her lips parted. “Yes. Please. Now.”

  Resisting the urge to hurry, he found the buttons that held the back of her gown and unfastened three, just enough to ease the low neckline down to reveal her chemise-covered breasts. Her alabaster skin was perfect and so tempting. A tiny mole marked the sloping curve, and he bent to kiss it then continued on the path, easing aside her chemise to reveal her pink nipple.

  He licked it once. Twice. Then drew it into his mouth. Her gasp pleased him almost as much as the moan that followed.

  “Edward.” His name on her lips was a whispered plea. One he was happy to answer.

  He reached for the hem of her gown as he continued to kiss first one breast and then the other. His hand moved slowly upward over the silk stocking that covered her firm leg. Then he reached higher and found the soft skin of her upper thigh. Even her cotton drawers felt exotic because he knew what lay beneath.

  The urge to touch her intimately was
overwhelming. Yet he paused and lifted his head to look into her eyes, wanting her to agree. “Do you have any idea how you make me feel?”

  She met his gaze, her eyes glittering with passion. “As if you can’t breathe unless you touch me? Because that’s how I feel about you.” She unbuttoned his waistcoat, found the opening of his shirt, and slid her hand inside to trail her fingers on his bare chest.

  “Margaret.” He attempted to gather his thoughts even as her touch sent need spiraling. “I want to touch you. To give you pleasure.” He shifted his hand to the slit of her drawers and once again found her warm flesh.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered as she continued her own exploration.

  Edward nudged her knees apart and caressed the delicate skin of her inner thigh, searching until he reached the soft curls between her legs. He brushed his fingers over them, back and forth, his touch growing firmer with each pass. Then he reached her very center, stroking along the dampness there.

  “Goodness.” Margaret’s hands stilled, her breath coming quicker as she closed her eyes as if to focus on his touch.

  “You are so wet.” He slid a finger inside her, loving the feel of her clenching around him. Then he stroked her slick folds, finding a rhythm that pleased them both. Once again he pressed a finger inside her tight channel, all too easily imagining her in his bed where he could make her his.

  “Edward? I—”

  “Yes, my sweet. Let go.”

  As if his words were all the encouragement she needed, her body shuddered, and she gripped his shoulders tightly.

  He removed his hand and held her, loving the feel of her trembling in his arms. For a long moment, they sat together, holding each other, saying nothing.

  But soon, Edward could practically feel Margaret thinking. Her body tensed as passion receded and reality returned. He shifted to look at her, moving a strand of hair from her cheek. “I don’t know exactly how we will make this work. But we will. You will see me again very soon.”

  “But—”

  “Shh.” He kissed her gently, putting all he felt into the meeting of their lips. “I care for you, Margaret. We are meant to be together. Neither of us can deny that any longer.”

  Margaret blinked as tears filled her eyes. But to his relief, she nodded. “I care for you as well. Deeply.”

  He kissed her again, his heart full, the tight band around his chest easing. Damn, but he didn’t want to let her go. Not now that he finally had her in his arms again. “I suppose we should see if we can leave without drawing too much attention.”

  “I suppose so.”

  He assisted her to button her gown then rose at last. “Allow me to see if the path is clear.” If only he could so easily find a clear path to their future together. But nothing was going to keep him from marrying Margaret.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The following morning, Margaret checked her pin watch then tidied up her desk in the small sitting room near her bedchamber. Her sisters and their husbands would arrive soon to discuss their options to prepare for Barclay leaving.

  She’d had a restless night, torn between hope for a future with Edward and resigned acceptance that they could never be together, despite what he’d said. She had yet to understand just how they’d come to be in that reception room together the previous day given how annoyed she’d been. Nor could she have guessed what would happen, but she wouldn't trade the brief interlude for anything. Her feelings for him had intensified, as had her desire.

  With a deep breath, she pressed her cool hands to her heated cheeks. If wedded bliss was anything like what she’d experienced with Edward, her sisters must be very happy indeed.

  Facing her mother upon her return home yesterday had been difficult. She'd been certain Lady Gold would take one look at her youngest daughter and know exactly what had happened. But of course, that hadn't been the case. Would her sisters sense something was different about her? Hopefully, they’d be too concerned with the issue of Barclay leaving to notice.

  Margaret glanced at her drawings one last time before tucking them in her desk. She’d made significant progress on her fashion plates and the commentary. Now she need only put a few finishing touches on them before delivering them to Thomas. Working on the sketches helped to settle her thoughts. It was as if having her hands busy freed another part of her mind, allowing it to sort through what had occurred. Unfortunately, she hadn’t discovered a solution to either dilemma she faced.

  Edward sounded so certain about finding a path forward together. She had wanted to tell him it seemed even more impossible with Barclay retiring. But Edward was right. There were numerous reasons why they shouldn’t be together. It was time they focused on the reasons they could instead. What they had was special and shouldn't be easily set aside.

  While Margaret knew her family would be happy for her if she advised them about her feelings for Edward, she couldn’t imagine leaving her mother to care for her father alone. Barclay would be leaving in a few weeks’ time. But would that be long enough to find someone to help?

  Finding a reliable butler was difficult enough, let alone one who could care for a man with failing mental facilities. The two footmen they employed were excellent but weren’t ideal for the position of butler as they had yet to learn the delicate handling her father needed. He often became angry or belligerent, especially when he was confused. Who would be willing to endure his outbursts or his forgetfulness as Barclay had done for years? Someone who could see beyond her father’s confusion and realize he had a good heart.

  Margaret was relieved not to have to resolve the situation on her own. Her sisters had been terribly upset at the news, as had her mother, but between them all, perhaps they could find someone to help.

  After saying a prayer for a good outcome, she went to the drawing room to await her family. They had decided it would be best if they discussed their options during one of Father's afternoon naps. Barclay would be sitting with him, and they wouldn't have to worry about Father overhearing the conversation.

  Her mother was already in the drawing room in her favorite chair by the window, staring outside. The sight of her idle hands resting in her lap didn’t bode well. When her mother worried, she became quiet and still, just like she was now.

  Margaret’s heart squeezed as she tried to imagine telling her that she would soon leave as well. Although Edward hadn't mentioned marriage, he’d spoken about their future, and she was certain that was what he meant. Yet as she watched her mother, she feared that despite Edward’s confidence, there was simply no way she could go.

  “The others haven't arrived?” Margaret asked though the empty room made that obvious.

  “Not yet. I'm certain they’ll be here soon.” Her mother forced a smile.

  Unfortunately, no words of reassurance came to Margaret. Nor did she have any brilliant ideas on how to find a butler to replace Barclay. She feared she’d be of little help this afternoon.

  Soon voices could be heard in the entrance hall and within a few short minutes, Caroline and Aberland entered the drawing room with Thomas and Annabelle directly behind them.

  Her heart lifted at the sight of her family. She was blessed to have them. They had already been through much together, and this was one more bump in the road. But it was a big bump.

  After greeting each other, they all took a seat and looked toward Lady Gold.

  She cleared her throat. “As you know, Barclay will be leaving us at the end of the month, and we need to find a new butler. Given the special skills needed, I thought it best for us to discuss the situation before we proceed.”

  Margaret was surprised when Annabelle nudged Thomas and looked at him expectantly.

  “I'm certain there are several options,” Thomas began as he adjusted the cuffs of his suit coat. “However, I happen to have recently learned about an experienced husband and wife who might be suitable for a butler and a housekeeper.”

  “Housekeeper?” Lady Gold asked. “We haven’t ever had a housekee
per.”

  “The interesting thing about this couple is they have had some manner of experience in a situation similar to ours,” Thomas added.

  “Truly?” Caroline sat forward on the edge of her chair, her gaze focused on Thomas. “They have cared for someone like Father?”

  “Not quite the same,” Thomas advised. “This particular man was a baron who struck his head when he fell from his horse. Apparently, his injury caused damage to his brain, but the way they described some of his behavior sounds similar to Sir Reginald.”

  “How terrible,” Caroline said.

  “The baron has since passed away, and Mr. and Mrs. Dawson took some time off to visit their grandchildren in London. Their son, who works for me at the printing shop, and daughter each have families here. They have decided to look for work in the city rather than return to the countryside so that they can be closer to their grandchildren.”

  Margaret could hardly believe it. It almost sounded too good to be true. “Can we afford both a butler and housekeeper?”

  “That does sound terribly expensive,” Lady Gold agreed.

  “We would be happy to help with the additional cost,” Aberland said. “Please don't let money be an objection. If Mr. and Mrs. Dawson seem like they would be a good fit, then I believe we should consider hiring them. Have you met them?” he asked Thomas.

  Thomas shook his head. “I didn't want to proceed until I knew whether they would be of interest. I would be happy to arrange for a meeting if you’d like.”

  Aberland glanced around the group. “What if Lady Gold, Thomas, and I meet with them? If they seem acceptable and have the correct references, then we could schedule a second meeting with everyone.”