What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(18)

She knew how it felt to be the object of pity. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “Forgive me for my callous response. I do care for your sake. If you still wish it, I will assist you to the best of my ability.”

“Why? You clearly are suspicious of me.”

Something hot welled up inside her. She swallowed hard, knowing she’d treated him as if he were the man who had betrayed her. “I beg your pardon. My suspicions were unfounded.”

She could feel him looking at her and hoped he would ask no questions, because she still couldn’t speak about the events that made her grieve for her former carefree life.

“You are not obliged,” he said, his voice rumbling. “No doubt you would prefer to occupy your time with something else.”

“Such as tea and embroidery?” she said with a huff.

He clasped his hands behind his back. “I suppose those are things ladies enjoy.”

“It’s a dead bore if you want to know the truth.”

He smiled a little. “Are you certain?”

She met his gaze. “Yes, I’m certain.” She would much rather help him than stitch for hours, but that wasn’t the main reason. Regardless of what he’d done in the past, he deserved a second chance. God knew she’d give anything for one, but it was impossible.

He flexed his gloved hands twice. “Thank you.”

The gruff tone of his voice said far more than his words.



While he did not return to the ancestral pile often, Colin knew his father’s habits well. The marquess adhered to the old adage that the early bird got the worm. Colin usually adhered to the mattress and pillow until the sun rose high in the sky. Nevertheless, he had requested Horace, his valet, to awaken him at the ungodly hour of six o’clock. Horace, being no more of a lark than his employer, grumbled as he shuffled into the room and opened the drapes. “God’s toenails,” Horace muttered as sunlight flooded the room.

Colin groaned. “Go away, Horace.”

“My lord, you requested that I awaken you for an early meeting.”

“You are mistaken,” he mumbled as he flopped onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head.

“No, my lord. You were quite clear last night that I should not allow you to go back to sleep.”

“I rescind my order,” Colin muttered into the pillow.

Horace hovered over him. “My lord, you said it was imperative that you meet your father early before church.”

It was Sunday, the Lord’s day. Colin had forgotten. This was hardly a surprise, given that he had not set foot inside a church since his last visit home for Easter holiday. He knew if he did not catch his father early, he would have to wait until Monday. Colin did not want to delay. He must prove to his father that he was serious and worthy of the property.

Grumbling under his breath, Colin condescended to allow his valet to shave and dress him for the day. Upon reaching his father’s study, Colin tapped the door lightly. “May I have a moment of your time?”

The marquess signed a paper and glanced up from his spectacles. “I am not working.”

Colin blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“It is the Lord’s day. Margaret insists that the family rest on Sunday.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I am officially not working.”

“Right. You are resting while sitting. It is a marvel your eyes are open.”

The marquess narrowed his eyes. Then he signed a paper and set his pen aside. “Is this a special occasion?”

Colin frowned, wondering if this was a trick question. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are up before noon.”

“I am dressed for church.” So far, lightning hadn’t struck.

The marquess broke the seal on another letter. “What is on your mind, besides Sommerall?”

“I wish to inspect the interior of Sommerall House.”

“Have you found a bride?”

His father knew damned well he hadn’t, so he ignored that question. “I wish to make an inventory of all needed repairs. Angeline has offered her assistance since she has experience with renovations and architectural…stuff.” His ignorance was appalling. Thank God Angeline had agreed to help him.

“Well, that is generous on her part,” the marquess said, “but I’m not altogether certain what you expect to gain from this expedition.”

“I think you know,” Colin said.

The marquess folded his hands on the desk. “Enlighten me.”

“I wish to demonstrate to you that I’m concerned about the state of the property,” he said, “and I am willing to finance the majority of the repairs.”

“But you’ve no idea of the cost,” his father said. “What if you do not have sufficient funds?”

“If I find more capital is needed, we can discuss the possibility of a loan.”

“We?”

“Only in the event it becomes necessary,” Colin said. Desperation made him wild to agree to just about anything, except to marry on a whim.

“You waste my time,” the marquess said.

“Father, marriage is a sacred vow. It is not a step that a man should take lightly.”

“I’m happy to hear you recognize the significance, but you’ve made no attempts to find a wife.”