What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(32)

Her face flamed. “Nothing happened,” she said under her breath as he shut the bedchamber door.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“You did not—”

He put his finger over her lips.

She pulled his hand away. “If Agnes were to walk by, she would conclude we are having an assignation,” she said under her breath.

“I’m amenable if you are.” His eyes were full of merriment. “When shall we begin?”

“When Satan ice skates in Hades,” she muttered. Oh, God, she was so embarrassed. How could she fall under Colin’s spell of all people? They had always despised each other. Her face was still hot with mortification.

The marquess’s voice echoed in the great hall. “Where the devil are they?”

“That is your father,” Angeline said under her breath. “We must hurry.”

“Calm yourself first or they’ll know something is afoot.”

She fanned herself with her hand to cool her face. “Do not be ridiculous. Nothing happened.” But what would have happened if not for the timely interruption? Nothing, absolutely nothing would have transpired. The last thing she needed was to let another rake sully what was left of her tattered reputation.

But he was not just another rake. He was a friend of her family. That definitely put a damper on matters. Cold water would do as well, but there was none at hand.

She inhaled and exhaled on a shaky breath.

“Ready?” he said, offering his arm.

She took it. “There will not be a repeat performance.”

“Of what? Nothing happened.”

“Exactly,” she said, lifting her chin.

He led her down the stairs and spoke overly loud about the sorry state of the carpets and the need for more internal shutters. Clearly it was a performance. He was as cool as an ice at Gunthers.

“Father, Wycoff, this is a surprise,” he said. “Are you here to give us advice about our renovation efforts?”

The marquess narrowed his eyes. “We came to ensure the pair of you haven’t engaged in fisticuffs.”

Angeline released Colin’s arm and forced herself to smile. “Nothing of the kind,” she said. “We are taking the divide-and-conquer approach.”

Wycoff frowned. “What?”

Chadwick leaned toward him. “I think she means they’re working in separate rooms. It’s for the best. Less chance of blood being shed this way.”

Colin clasped his hands behind his back. “We made progress today.”

While Colin spoke to his father, Angeline approached her father with more than a little trepidation. “Did you enjoy shooting today, Papa?”

“I did, Daughter, but I am mortally humiliated. Chadwick shot a pheasant, and I bagged nothing.”

“Did you enjoy tramping about the property? You always said it was the best part.”

Her father’s eyes softened. “You remembered.”

I remember all the times we spent together, and I miss you. “I hope you shoot a bird tomorrow,” she said.

“Maybe not tomorrow, but I intend to before the house party concludes.”

“We mustn’t speak of the bird I shot earlier today,” the marquess said. “The twins will be overset.”

Angeline turned to the marquess. “Oh, I suppose they are tenderhearted about all creatures.”

The marquess snorted. “Nothing of the kind. They wanted to come along with us today and insisted that ugly dog could fetch for us.”

“Well, Wycoff, I suppose we should be off. Perhaps you wish your daughter to travel with you?” the marquess said.

“We’re both covered in mud. I don’t want to inadvertently muss your gown, Angeline,” Wycoff said.

“It’s only mud, Papa.” I love you and hope you have forgiven me.

“Your mother would not be pleased if I dirtied your skirts.”

“Well, we’ll go on ahead,” the marquess said. “Colin, you will take the maid up in the carriage, of course. Do not dally. Your stepmother will have a good dinner waiting.”

Colin joined Angeline at the door. She bit her lip as the marquess’s carriage rolled away, but her eyes welled.

“Angeline, I hope I did not discompose you earlier.”

“Of course n-not.” The catch in her voice troubled him.

He feared he was responsible, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.

The sound of horse hooves alerted him. “There’s John now,” he said.

Agnes appeared from the direction of the servant’s stairs and bobbed a curtsy. “I left the feather duster and broom in the kitchen, my lady.”

“Thank you, Agnes,” Angeline said. “We are ready to depart.”

Colin locked the door and turned to her. “Is all well with you?” He knew something was amiss, but he’d never understood women.

“Yes, I’m gratified to see my father in such good spirits.”

She’d implied that her father had been in poor spirits. Obviously the events surrounding Angeline’s broken engagement had been difficult for the entire family. She probably felt guilty, but in his opinion, she’d made the right decision to call off the engagement.

The only thing he didn’t understand was why her father had approved the engagement. Brentmoor was well known for his ruinous gambling and indiscreet liaisons. That begged the question as to how she’d ever gotten involved with the man in the first place.