Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (47 page)

Since Matthew's death, Serena had managed to wash the smell out of her linen and muslins, but she could not wash it from her heavier clothes without ruining them. Until her brothers released her funds she could buy no others.....

Sickly, she realized there were no more funds.

She seriously thought of dressing in one of her sweet-smelling muslins for her flight, but at this time of year it would be insanity. She did fold some underwear and stuff it into her reticule. Surely carrying a reticule would not sound the alarm.

Her jewels! Matthew had given her many items of jewelry, though even then he had managed to make them part of his degrading games. She shuddered at the memory of those ornaments, but they could be sold and they were hers.

She clenched her fists in frustration when she realized that she didn't know where her jewels were. She hadn't wanted to know, but now they represented survival.

In Tom's room?

She was suddenly consumed with urgency, fearful that her brothers would come to drag her to her wedding, or at least realize that she would flee. She grabbed her luxurious cape—camelot cloth lined with sable—grateful that it was very warm.

Another memory: it had amused Matthew to take her walking in the garden, naked under the cape, the silky fur tickling her skin, her face red as he stood talking to an oblivious servant.

One of his more innocent diversions....

She shook herself free of these thoughts.

Her heaviest gloves. Her sturdiest half-boots. Her few coins in her pocket. She only had one bonnet, for Matthew had seen no point or amusement in bonnets, and it was very high with a big brim. She intended to use the hood of her cloak for concealment, and the hood would not cover it.

She went without.

The rings she wore on her left hand caught her eye, and she smiled grimly. There was a large emerald and a gold band, so much part of her that she'd forgotten them. Surely she could survive for some time on the value of those.

Forbidden

The Company of Rogues

Book Four

by

Jo Beverley

New York Times & USA Today

Bestselling Author

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Page forward and complete your journey

with an excerpt from

DANGEROUS JOY

The Company of Rogues Series

Book Five

Excerpt from

Dangerous Joy

The Company of Rogues

Book Five

by

Jo Beverley

New York Times & USA Today

Bestselling Author

FORBIDDEN

Reviews & Accolades

"Brimming with sensual adventure and daring wit"

~RT

"...a fast paced, fun romance that will keep you glued. This is a first rate keeper!

~Aromancereview.com

Ireland, January, 1816

Miles Cavanagh frowned up from the legal documents in his hand. "Your father must have taken leave of his senses, Colum. You were supposed to be the girl's guardian."

His new stepfather put on a pious look. "When a man is about to take leave of these earthly shores, my boy, he can surely be excused if he abandons his senses first."

"Abandons them enough to be cajoled, perhaps?"

Colum Monahan, a middle-aged man still in traveling clothes, waggled a plump finger. "Don't you try to blame me now, Miles. Father was dead and the deed done hours before I arrived at Foy."

Miles supposed that to be true, but it was typical of Colum that he had in some way dodged an onerous duty. He was a charming, indolent man who found humor in nearly everything, and always expected the best in life. Amazingly, life seemed to grant it to him, including Miles's pretty mother.

And now the loss of a troublesome ward.

The man must have made a pact with the leprechauns.

"What the devil possessed him, then?" Miles demanded. "No one in his right mind would appoint a twenty-five-year-old man he hardly knew as guardian to a granddaughter."

"I have no idea..."

"His
twenty-year-old
granddaughter."

"My dear boy, there is no point in snarling at me! And Father is beyond your reach."

Miles ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. But this is a damnable imposition."

"Tush, tush. You'll have a seizure yourself if you allow your choleric disposition to rule you."

"I do not have a choleric disposition."

Colum poured two glasses of brandy and passed one to Miles. "Every red head is given to anger."

"My hair is not
red,
and I am the most easy-going of fellows." Miles unclenched his teeth in order to sip from his glass. "I simply do not want to be responsible for a young woman, especially one I remember you describing as `that hellion Felicity.'"

Colum settled into his favorite chair. "The dear child is calming as she gets older. Nothing could have been more suitable than her behavior during the obsequies." He looked at Miles with a mischievous twinkle that made him resemble a portly leprechaun himself. "Sure and she's turned into a fine looking girl, you know. Dark hair and eyes, and a very handsome figure."

"Devil take it, if I have to have a ward, I'd rather she be plain. I know the way young men behave."

"I'm sure you do, my boy. I'm sure you do. And just think," Colum added, smiling up at the fine plasterwork of the ceiling, "she's an heiress into the bargain."

Miles stared at him. "An heiress? Surely your father didn't leave her that much."

Colum lowered his bright eyes. "You forget her maternal grandfather, Miles."