What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(22)

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.