What a Reckless Rogue Needs (7 page)

“I’m so glad you came,” Margaret said. “You have convinced me. I will talk to Chadwick tonight. It is past time something be done about Sommerall, and really he should not try to force Colin into marriage.”

“For now, I suggest keeping the focus on the survey of the house,” Angeline said. “Let him consider one issue at a time.”

“Yes, that should work. You know men can only think in a straight line,” Margaret said. “They are easily confused by related topics. We have to introduce them one at a time and then explain the various relationships.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “I’ve often been tempted to draw pictures for Chadwick.”

“Well, it’s probably best that we continue to allow the gentlemen to believe they are the stronger of the sexes because of their brawn,” Angeline said. “We had better keep our superior intellect a secret.”

“Yes, but they are far more malleable than you might realize, but you’ll discover that after you’re married.” Margaret patted her hand. “Thank you, dear. You’ve been more helpful than you know.”

Angeline crossed her fingers in her skirts. “I hope so.” She paused a moment and said, “Chadwick is a very lucky man to have you for his wife.”

Margaret visibly swallowed. “Thank you, dear. I daresay I do not deserve such a compliment, but I will cherish your words all the same.”

Angeline knew a bit about Margaret’s background. It could not have been easy for a woman whose father had been a shopkeeper to marry into the world of the ton and to be a stepmother to an eight-year-old child, but Margaret was a special lady.

C
olin meant to instruct his valet to pack his trunks after breakfast. There was no point in staying any longer. He would briefly explain his reasons to his father and begin the journey back to London today.

He sipped his tea and heard an odd chewing sound under the table. Then he noted that the sausages on his sisters’ plates had somehow disappeared. When he lifted his brows, Bianca and Bernadette regarded him with innocent expressions. No doubt they had been feeding the dog beneath the table.

When breakfast concluded, the marquess cleared his throat. “I have an announcement to make.”

Everyone regarded him quizzically, with the exception of the marchioness.

“After much contemplation, I have decided that it is time to make an inventory of the repairs needed for Sommerall House.”

Colin stared at his father. All around him voices buzzed. What had precipitated his father’s sudden change of mind? Then he realized that Margaret did not appear the least bit surprised.

She must have intervened on his behalf. Why did that make him feel guilty? She had been kind to do it, and he had never done her a kindness. If anything, he’d kept his distance. He should thank her, but he suspected she neither sought nor wanted gratitude from the likes of him. Her motivation for helping likely had less to do with his wishes and more to do with keeping the peace at the house party.

The marquess held up his hand. “I have not finished. My son wishes to manage the work. After consulting with Wycoff, he and I agreed that Lady Angeline’s expertise would prove helpful. To ensure that the proprieties are observed, a maid will accompany them.”

Margaret cleared her throat. “We cannot spare Marie or Betty, so I am promoting Agnes to chaperone. She is the newest of three scullery maids and can be spared. She will busy herself dusting and helping to clear away any items that are beyond use or repair.”

“Can we help?” Bianca asked.

The marquess frowned at his daughter over his spectacles. “No, you may not. I have another task in mind for you. That task is to walk your ugly dog and make sure he stays below stairs—”

“Papa, please do not say Hercules is ugly,” Bernadette said. “You will hurt his feelings.”

The marquess snorted. “As I was saying before I was interrupted, that dog is only allowed in the kitchen. Either you abide by my edict or the dog goes in the dustbin.”

“Chadwick, do not overset the girls,” Margaret said. “They are fond of Hercules.”

The marquess shook his head. “I expect—”

A pitiful animal whine sounded beneath the table.

The marquess’s eyes bulged as Hercules trotted out and sat next to his chair. The pug lifted his snout and whined again.

“Papa, Hercules is showing you his affection,” Bernadette said.

“Who let this ugly dog out of the kitchen?” the marquess demanded.

Hercules promptly ran back under the table.

The marquess leaped to his feet and lifted the tablecloth. Hercules scampered out and the twins gave chase.

“Come back here, you sorry excuse for a dog,” the marquess shouted.

Hercules kept running, apparently thinking it was a game.

The marchioness rose. “Chadwick, the girls will catch him…eventually.”

Bianca and Bernadette were giggling as they chased the dog.

Hercules ran into the water closet.

“Damn dog,” the marquess shouted.

“Chadwick,” Margaret said in a shocked tone.

“Pardon me,” he said gruffly. Then he stomped over to the water closet door. Hercules sprinted past the marquess. “Ames!” he shouted.

The butler hurried his step. “Ah, I’ll get a maid to clean,” Ames said, and rang the bell.

“Why has our home turned into a spectacle?” the marquess demanded.

“My dear, it may have escaped your notice, but our home has always been a spectacle of one sort or another,” Margaret said.

Colin leaned closer to Angeline. “Notice the dog is smiling.”

“And so are you,” she said.

After Angeline went upstairs for her cloak and bonnet, the marquess beckoned Colin to join him in his study. “I wish to make it clear that this is only a preliminary measure. With Lady Angeline’s help, you will make an inventory of everything that needs to be done.”

“I understand, and I am ready to begin,” Colin said. He tamped down his excitement, but this was real progress.

“I am not finished,” the marquess said. “My original condition still stands. You must find a bride or I will sell the house.”

His father had given in on the inspection, and Colin figured he could maneuver around his father’s insistence on marriage, too. “It is quite possible the repairs will take many months,” Colin said. “I will focus on making the house habitable and then I can begin my search for a wife when the spring season begins.” He thought a minute and added, “It would be best if I had a home before acquiring a bride.”

The marquess rolled his eyes. “There are two hundred rooms at Deerfield. You could take your pick. You will not divert me. You have six weeks.”

For God’s sake, not again. He meant to placate his father. “I intend to start a family in a few years.” Forty sounded like a ripe, old age to give up his bachelor life.

“I have an offer for the house and have no intention of waiting for you to make up your mind,” the marquess said. “If I do not insist on marriage now, you will continue to chase courtesans and actresses. All of the repairs will be for naught, because you will spend all of your time in London and let Sommerall fall to rack and ruin again.”

“I need a few months to find a bride,” Colin said. “It is a reasonable request. After all, it is a lifetime decision.”

“You have precisely six weeks. That is my condition. You will either abide by it or I will sell the property. Now, you will excuse me. I’m off to shoot birds.”

Colin gritted his teeth. Somehow he had to circumvent his father’s ludicrous marriage requirement.

After Agnes climbed up next to John, the driver, Colin helped Angeline inside the carriage and sat with his back to the horses, facing Angeline. What the devil was he to do about his father’s decree? The man was unreasonable. He knocked the roof with the cane he only used in the carriage. A few moments later, the vehicle rolled off.

“Something is wrong,” Angeline said, raising her voice to be heard above the horses’ hooves. “You were elated earlier.”

“I do not wish to shout at you.”

“Very well.” She stood and swayed as the carriage turned.

He was on his feet in an instant. When the carriage hit a bump, he grabbed her arm and pulled her down on the seat beside him. He inhaled the scent of roses and freshly ironed linen, no doubt from the petticoat. The scents of a woman. Dangerous.

He would hold his breath—or breathe through his mouth.

Her bonnet was askew and her skirt was hiked up, revealing her silk-clad calves. Very long, slender calves. He imagined matching long thighs. No, he would not. This was Angeline—the shrew. He was
not
attracted to her. But she’d agreed to help him, and he needed her advice.

She tried to pull her skirts down, but obviously she was sitting on half of them.

“Don’t worry, the skirt isn’t going anywhere,” he said.

“It will wrinkle,” she said, squirming.

“Good Lord. Stand up and I’ll hold your waist while you pull down the skirt.”

“You will do no such thing.”

He grinned. “I promise I won’t squeeze.”

Her glare could torch a man—in all the right places.

“Up you go,” he said, placing his hands on the natural curve of her waist. Lord, she had a narrow waistline. As she pulled at her flimsy skirts, she revealed a deliciously rounded bottom. Naturally he imagined his hands on her derriere, and his groin tightened.

After she finished pulling and wiggling to his delight, he took her hand to steady her as she gingerly eased onto the leather seat. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said, grinning.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, all innocence.

She sniffed. “I meant to ask you that question. You were happy at breakfast, but something transpired afterward. You were in a state again.”

He released a gusty sigh. “My father still insists I marry.”

“I think he is testing you,” Angeline said. “It is an unreasonable demand. You might as well ignore it.”

He met her gaze. “There is a new problem. He gave me six weeks to find a bride.”

“That is outrageous,” she said.

“Yes, but my father is adamant.”

“He did, however, approve of the renovation,” she said. “That is a big step.”

“Do you not see the problem? I might spend a fortune and lose the property because I have no bride. All of my efforts might be for naught, except to beggar me.”

She shook her head. “The marquess knows that it is impossible for you to find a suitable wife out in the middle of the country. I think you should set it aside and focus on the house. Once he realizes you are serious and industrious, he will likely extend the time frame for you to find a bride.”

“And if he doesn’t? I can’t take that risk.”

“What else can you do?” she said.

He looked at her. A long moment elapsed. If he married Angeline, all of his troubles would disappear in a snap. But good Lord, Angeline?

She met his gaze, and they both looked away. Had the same thought occurred to her?

After an uncomfortable silence, she said, “I do not envy you.”

“Your parents aren’t pressing you to marry?” he asked.

“I’m not besieged with suitors,” she said. “Frankly, I’m relieved.”

He didn’t believe her. “Oh, come now. Every woman wants to marry. That is what ladies do.”

“I’m not every woman, and I have no intention of marrying.”

“That sounds like pride talking,” he said.

“No, it is me talking.”

“You can’t live independently.”

“My late grandmother left me a fortune. It is in trust, of course, but I can live comfortably enough at the dower house.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said. “You would prefer to live as a spinster rather than marry?”

“That is my plan,” she said, “whether you believe me or not.”

“You are joking.”

“No, I am not.”

“I doubt Wycoff will approve,” he said.

“I am thirty-one years old, as you well know. I do not need his approval.”

“Every lady I have ever met views marriage as the Holy Grail.”

“Not this lady,” she said.

“Do you realize what you’re missing?” he said.

“Such as intemperate and adulterous rakes, rogues, and roués?”

He looked astounded. “You are serious.”

“We need to concentrate on the work that needs to be done. If you worry about the marriage issue, you are likely to feel overwhelmed. Think about accomplishing one thing at a time,” she said.

“Did someone give you that advice?”

“I came to that conclusion myself.” She turned her attention to the window, letting him know she would not elaborate.

She clearly did not wish to discuss her decision, but he thought it odd. He suspected her decision was born of pride and perhaps fear. No doubt her engagement to Brentmoor had caused her more than a little grief.

He still could not fathom why she’d gotten involved with Brentmoor. The man was well known for high-stakes gaming and multiple liaisons. She could not claim ignorance of his character. Perhaps Brentmoor had convinced her that he’d turned over a new leaf and reformed, but that also brought to mind another question: Why had Wycoff allowed the man to court his daughter? The duke was no fool.

Was it possible she’d carried on a secret romance with Brentmoor? He mentally shook off the thoughts. Whatever had occurred was none of his affair.

Granted, he’d led a rake’s existence for years, but he’d only dealt with sophisticated women. He never went near the innocent belles or single ladies; he avoided anything that might result in getting a leg shackle. At any rate, he wasn’t one for a grand romance. He’d leave that nonsense to radical poets and besotted swains.

More than anything, Angeline needed real occupation. Last night, she’d tossed and turned in bed. She would be here for only a month. When the house party ended, she would return to Worthington Abbey and make the announcement to her family. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother and father would disapprove, but there was nothing they could do to stop her.

It would be far better to move into the dower house as soon as possible, but thoughts of Penny worried her. Her sensitive sister would be overset, but Angeline would make sure that Penny knew she could visit at any time. There would be much to accomplish. She would have to hire a cook and a few servants. Perhaps she would even buy a gig and learn to drive it. It wasn’t the life she had always envisioned, but she would make the best of the situation.

She could well imagine her mother imploring her to make one more attempt during the spring season, but Angeline had no intention of exposing herself to society again. She knew exactly what would be in store for her, and she refused to play into the hands of the gossips.

She worried about her father’s reaction the most, but eventually even he would come to terms with her decision. Unfortunately, ever since the debacle with Brentmoor, he had all but avoided her.

It would be better for all of her family if she lived quietly and independently in the country. Her mother and father would take Penny to London in the spring, and while it hurt to know that she would never be able to see her sister at her come-out ball, Angeline knew it was for the best. She’d learned she was strong enough to withstand many things, but she could not bear the thought of her poor reputation hurting her sister.

Sommerall, one hour later

Colin carried the heavy hamper. “Cook must have packed enough food for an army. Honestly, I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“The fresh bread smells wonderful,” she said, “and I smell biscuits.” She reached inside. “They’re still warm,” she said, popping one in her mouth.