A Rogue No More (The Rogue Chronicles Book 3)

by Lana Williams

  She folded the broadsheet and tucked it under the book then reached for the bell pull in the corner of her room. By the time she changed, thought of an excuse for the outing to tell her mother, and ordered a hackney, over an hour had passed.

  Yet the notion that this was somehow related to her book wouldn’t let go. By the time she reached the office of Artemis Press, she was convinced of it.

  Mr. Bing was at his usual post and quickly rose, nearly tipping over his chair in the process when she and Lizzie entered the reception area. “Miss Gold.”

  “I hope the day finds you well, Mr. Bing.” She glanced about, realizing the area had been much improved with new chairs and a table neatly arranged to one side. An attractive vase graced the table, though it stood empty. Apparently, Thomas’s assistant had been busy. “I’d like to see Mr. Raybourne, please.”

  Before the young man could respond, the inner office door opened to reveal Thomas who stared at a paper he held. Something inside her loosened at the sight of him. As if somewhere deep inside, she was relieved she didn’t have to deal with this problem on her own.

  “Bing, do you have—” He looked up only to stop short at the sight of her. “Miss Gold.”

  “May I have a word with you?”

  “Of course.” He gestured toward his office and stood aside to allow her entrance.

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked as he waited for her to sit before doing the same.

  She pulled the article from her reticule and slid it across his desk. “Have you read this?”

  He drew it toward him. “Yes.”

  “Did anything about it strike you as familiar?”

  He hesitated, his expression tightening as if he were reluctant to answer.

  “It did!” A quick puff of air escaped her.

  “Not initially. But after thinking upon it further, it crossed my mind. I agree there are a number of similarities, but we shouldn’t draw conclusions. Who knows if the reporter has the facts correct? Perhaps he recently read your book and used some of those details when he wrote the article.”

  Annabelle stared at him incredulously. “Do you truly believe that?”

  “It seems unlikely, but we don’t know enough to form an opinion. This could be an odd coincidence.”

  She hoped that was true, but the chill deep inside her suggested otherwise. “How can we find out?”

  “Miss Gold, why would anyone read your book and go to the effort of copying the method of murder?”

  He had a valid point. It seemed so unlikely.

  “I don’t think the typical person who reads your work is likely to commit murder, do you?” he asked.

  “I certainly hope not. But you have to admit it is eerily similar.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression pensive. “The Thames River Police are unlikely to provide additional details to us.”

  “True. Questioning them might draw unwanted attention.” She’d invented a similar situation in her book. The protagonist had not only found the body but questioned the police, which had quickly made him a suspect in their eyes.

  “Perhaps I could try to speak with the reporter and see if he’s willing to share any information.”

  “I would appreciate that.” She shook her head. “I know it might be a coincidence, but I can’t get it out of my mind.”

  “Nor can I. I will see what I can uncover and keep you apprised of any developments.”

  “If you should need assistance—”

  “Please.” Thomas held her gaze with a sternness he rarely displayed. “I have no wish for you to become involved in this in any way. Do I make myself clear?”

  She nodded, hoping he knew what he was doing. “Do take care, Mr. Raybourne. Murder is a nasty business unless it’s in the pages of a book.”

  ~*~

  “Please come, Mother,” Annabelle said two days later as evening arrived. “Aunt Felton and Louisa will be sorely disappointed if you don’t.” Her cousin was hosting her first ball as the Countess of Granger and had requested they all attend.

  Her mother sighed. “Your father didn’t have a good day. I’m not certain I should leave him.”

  “Margaret will be with him and Barclay as well. They can send the footman for us if matters grow worse. Perhaps Father just needs a good night’s rest.” Margaret rarely attended balls, stating there was no need until after Annabelle married. Annabelle tended to think there was more to it than that, but she respected her sister’s preferences with the hope Margaret would do the same.

  “I will read to him,” Margaret promised. “One of those books on farming techniques he likes so much.”

  Annabelle shared a smile with her sister. “I don’t know why he enjoys those when he never farmed.”

  “They certainly hold his interest.” Margaret shook her head.

  “You don’t have to stay long,” Annabelle added as she turned to her mother. “But we should show our support for Louisa.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Lady Gold relented. “I’ll change my gown and join you.” She went up the stairs to prepare.

  “Why are you so insistent that she attend the ball?” Margaret asked.

  “Both Louisa and Aunt Felton will be upset if she doesn’t. And I think she needs to leave the house more often. Talking with other people will do her good.” She hated how narrow her mother’s world had become since her father’s health had declined.

  “True, but she worries so when she’s not with him.”

  “I’ll ensure she doesn’t have time to,” Annabelle said. “You help her dress, and I’ll make certain Barclay will remain with Father until you relieve him.”

  Annabelle had spent much of the afternoon with Sir Reginald. She’d tried a variety of topics, but none of them seemed to settle his restlessness. She’d read some of the news to him, but only the items she didn’t think would cause him concern. With his mind the way it was, they had to be careful about what he heard and when.

  An hour later, Annabelle joined her mother in the carriage Louisa had sent for them. Lady Gold smiled as she glanced about the rich black leather interior.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” Annabelle asked. “So kind of Louisa and Granger to send it for us.”

  “I hope when you marry, you’ll have fine things like this to enjoy.” The faint smile on her mother’s face suggested she was remembering better times when they’d had their own carriage along with the horses to pull it. “Things like a house in town so you might enjoy the Season. And of course, a country house to escape London on occasion.”

  “That would be nice.” But it wouldn’t. Not to Annabelle. She imagined a cozy cottage, perhaps by a lake where she could spend as long as she wanted writing with no one to disturb her. She’d have enjoyable neighbors with whom she could visit when she had a need for company. Visits to London would be all the more entertaining if she didn’t live there.

  “Nice?” Her mother shook her head. “I want far more than that for you, Annabelle. I would like you to have as full a life as possible. With the right husband, of course. Just look at Caroline.”

  Why did her life have to center around a man, let alone the right one? Why couldn’t she have her own version of fulfillment? “I’m not certain a husband is necessary for a happy life.” Though she hesitated to bring up the subject now, it was high time she planted the seed that she didn’t intend to marry.

  “Don’t be silly.” Her mother tossed away that fragile seed with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand. “Family is everything.”

  “I’m blessed to already have a family. I’m also blessed to have a career I love.”

  “Your hobby is well and good, my dear. But you need more in your life than that.”

  Annabelle bit back the retort that writing was not a hobby. It was her life. Her soul. She lived and breathed it. She spent more hours of the day in the worlds she created than she did in the real one. She drew a breath to gather he
r patience.

  It was no wonder her mother thought marriage should be her goal. Young ladies had few other options.

  Annabelle didn’t want to do or say anything to hurt her mother, but she had a different plan now that she’d seen some success with her writing. She had to take this in small steps to warm her to the idea. Never mind the pang of hurt that her mother didn’t understand. Lady Gold had her hands—and her thoughts—full with Father.

  “Perhaps this very evening a gentleman will catch your eye.” Her mother smiled more fully. “Your heart will beat faster, and your breath will stop in your throat. Then you’ll know he just might be the one.”

  Annabelle closed her eyes as Thomas’s handsome visage filled her mind once again. Unfortunately, the rogue caused all those sensations in her and more. But he wasn’t the one. Couldn’t be the one. In fact, her mother would be appalled if she knew how Thomas made Annabelle feel.

  “Perhaps.” They had a business arrangement. Nothing more. That would have to be excitement enough for now. She would ignore the feelings she experienced when he was near. Surely they were temporary. She already knew she had a strong mind, evidenced by the stories she created and her determination to write them down. She’d use that mental strength to move past her feelings.

  Practice was all she needed to overcome the flutters she felt when he was near. There was nothing like repetition to wear down the excitement of new things, much like building a habit.

  Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do. The more frequently she was with him, the less effect he’d have on her. His vices were many and his virtues few. His roguish behavior was displeasing, to say the least.

  By the time the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Granger House on Grosvenor Street, she was pleased with her new intention and the list of Thomas’s worst qualities she’d mentally compiled.

  The front of the house glowed with torches to light the way for guests. This was the first significant ball the Earl and Countess of Granger had held since their marriage in January, and Annabelle had no doubt it would be a success.

  Flowers graced the foyer where the couple greeted guests. The reception line moved quickly and soon they were exchanging pleasantries with Louisa and Granger.

  “You look wonderful,” Annabelle said as she took in Louisa’s gown of white satin trimmed in gold. A pretty bandeau around her head matched the gold jewelry she wore.

  “As do you, my dear.” Louisa leaned close. “Do we have Margaret to thank for the beautiful gown you’re wearing?”

  “Of course. Isn’t she amazing?” Annabelle smoothed the lilac silk. Small rosettes made from a deeper shade of purple ribbons graced the neckline and sleeves. She was saving the pink one Margaret had presented for a special occasion. “This is one of my favorites.”

  “I think you say that about each gown she creates.”

  Annabelle laughed as it was true.

  The line was growing longer behind them, so Annabelle and her mother moved into the ballroom. The expanse was decorated with large floral bouquets and potted plants, bringing to mind a garden.

  “How clever.” Lady Gold smiled as she glanced around. “So tastefully done, isn’t it?”

  “Very.” Three sets of French doors stood open to let in the evening air and lanterns lined the edge of the terrace as if to invite guests to step outside.

  An adjacent room contained refreshments, including a variety of light fare as well as glasses of champagne.

  “Let us have a drink while we’re waiting for the music to begin,” Annabelle said with the hope a bit of champagne would ease her mother’s worry and guilt.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Nonsense. One glass,” she insisted. “I’ll return directly.” Annabelle hurried toward the champagne before her mother decided she should return home immediately.

  While Annabelle’s heart squeezed at what her father had lost, she hurt even more at what her mother had. They’d had a modest life before her father’s decline, but life had become more and more restricted in both finances and social activities since. At least until Aberland had joined their family.

  Lady Gold was a shell of the woman she’d been, the shadows never leaving her eyes. It upset Annabelle terribly, especially when little could be done to change it. Making certain her mother attended evenings like this, which included a few hours of pleasure and diversion, were the best she could do.

  She quickly returned with two glasses of champagne and handed one to her mother, who took a delicate sip.

  Annabelle kept up an amusing conversation about the guests’ behavior and attire, hoping to distract her. Based on her laughter, Annabelle thought it was working, but she was relieved when Caroline and Aberland joined them, as well as their aunt and the count she’d been seeing.

  When asked to dance, Annabelle readily agreed, knowing her mother was in good care.

  The evening passed quickly with one dance after another and conversations with friends. Only too late did she realize her mother had disappeared.

  “I couldn’t convince her to remain any longer,” Caroline said when she realized for whom Annabelle searched. “She insisted she needed to check on Father.”

  “I’m surprised she stayed as long as she did.”

  “Louisa was pleased she came at all.” Caroline glanced around before drawing closer. “Do you have any news?”

  “Nothing other than what I told you the other day.”

  When Caroline had come by the house, Annabelle had shared the details of the contract she’d agreed to with the publishing company. She’d also told her about Thomas’s involvement though she still hadn’t mentioned it to her mother.

  “Will you be done with the fair copy soon?”

  “In another day or two, I think.” The process of organizing and revising her rough or foul copy into a fair copy was time-consuming but important. Some authors chose to hire someone else to do it, but Annabelle couldn’t imagine allowing another person to revise it correctly.

  “I look forward to reading it as well,” Aberland said quietly. “The last one was riveting.”

  Annabelle couldn’t contain her smile. “Thank you.” Should she say something about the alarming article in The Times? Yet if neither Caroline nor Aberland mentioned it, perhaps she was overreacting. They were both familiar with her book, and she had no doubt at least Aberland had read about the murder.

  “Isn’t that Mr. Raybourne coming this way?” Caroline asked.

  The same breathless feeling that always overcame her took hold. She tried to force herself to relax, but it did little to help.

  This was an opportunity for her to test her theory of spending more time with him. Whether it was at the publishing office or in a ballroom shouldn’t matter. She need only become accustomed to his presence to be able to better ignore his handsome looks and those disturbing dimples.

  “He’s quite the thing, don’t you think?” Caroline whispered. “Those eyes of his.”

  Her sister’s words only encouraged the flutters. Rather than respond, she noted the many looks that followed him from women of all ages. Unfortunately, those did nothing to dissuade her own thrumming pulse.

  Her entire body tingled with awareness as he drew closer and closer, pausing to visit with acquaintances. But it was clear he was working his way toward her.

  She looked away, wanting a moment to gather her resolve. But when she looked back toward him, she experienced the same reaction. Before she could decide what to do about it, he’d arrived at her side.

  “Good evening.” His greeting encompassed everyone as he bowed. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Annabelle was surprised to realize Aberland knew Thomas.

  The two men spoke for several minutes before Thomas turned toward her.

  “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

  “I’d be delighted.” She was careful not to look at her sister but couldn’t miss her reaction. Caroline seemed thrilled that he’d asked her.

  Annabelle did
n’t understand Caroline’s reaction in the least. Her sister knew Thomas’s reputation as a terrible rogue. Did she need a reminder of the fact? Though Aberland’s reputation had been similar, her family now knew that had been a cover for his work as a spy. One couldn’t say the same about Thomas.

  He escorted her to the dance floor where they waited for the other dancers to clear the area before taking their place.

  “Have you any news?” Annabelle asked, wondering if he’d made inquiries about the murder.

  “I do.”

  She was forced to wait until the dance steps allowed them to cross paths again before she could prod him further. “And?”

  “The similarities are more concerning than we originally thought.”

  His response nearly paused her mid-step. “Truly?”

  He nodded as he moved away before returning once again. His serious gaze held hers, but he said nothing when they passed again.

  Attempting to have a conversation during a dance was maddening. She dearly wanted to hear what he’d learned. With a firm grip on her patience, she focused on the steps, wondering how they could steal a moment of privacy.

  “Smile.” His whispered order had her glaring at him in response. “Your angry expression is drawing notice.”

  She immediately did as he bade her, earning a chuckle from him.

  “Perhaps a more genuine one if possible.” He smiled, bringing forth his dimples.

  The sight of them sent a wave of heat through her. Why was she so fascinated by them? She had no idea, but the urge to draw her bare finger along the indentation stole her thoughts. Perhaps if she had the chance to do so, her curiosity would be appeased.

  “What are you thinking?”

  His question had her blinking to dispel the urge. “Nothing. Why?”

  “There’s a certain look that comes into your eyes at times.” His practiced gaze swept over her from head to toe, quickening her pulse. “I would dearly like to know your thoughts when it does.”

  The way he looked at her was a reminder of his reputation—a rogue. Yet that didn’t dampen her desire for him in the least.