What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(33)

Angeline had her faults, but she’d never been anybody’s fool. Until, apparently, Brentmoor.

He escorted her to the carriage and helped her negotiate the steps. He sat across from her with his back to the horses and knocked his cane on the ceiling. Minutes later the carriage rolled off. He looked out the window and knew he’d made a mistake today. While he’d only intended to tease her, his blood had definitely heated more than a few degrees.

Nothing of import had happened. Granted, he’d felt a stirring of desire, but he’d not acted upon it.

He tried telling himself he was making too much of it, but she’d been through an ordeal with her former fiancé. The gossip had spread far and wide. Her mother had felt the need to take her abroad because of it. Her father must have taken it hard.

Hell. She’d offered her expertise, and he’d come very close to kissing her, but he had not. He’d teased her, but there was no harm in that. The trouble was he’d wanted more, but that would prove disastrous if he were ever foolish enough to act upon it.

He had no idea what had happened between her and Brentmoor, but he knew the man had ruinous gaming debts and bragged about the numerous married ladies he’d bagged. Colin thought the man disgusting.


There had been countless women in his life, but they had all been fleeting encounters. None of them had meant anything more to him than a tumble between the sheets, but he’d never misled them. He’d never felt an ounce of remorse, because they had all been more than willing. Not once had he considered he might have wounded them. He’d never stayed long enough to know. He wouldn’t even let himself think about the courtesans.

Angeline was a lady, and their families were close. The last thing he needed was to unintentionally set up expectations. He needn’t worry. She’d made no secret of her low opinion of him. There was nothing to worry about. She’d agreed to assist him only because she was bored witless with needlework and apparently enjoyed making over rooms. He need not worry about taking advantage of her talent. She wanted to be involved.

All the same, he vowed to keep their encounters focused on the renovations and avoid flirting with her. She had enough troubles, and he couldn’t afford the distraction.



That evening after dinner

After the desserts, the marchioness rose and all of the ladies followed her to the drawing room while the gentlemen drank their port. Angeline was anxious for their return and hoped to persuade her father to play chess with her. They had not played since her return from Paris. Today, her father had seemed his old self again. She’d worried so much and blamed herself for his melancholy. While she’d not wanted to attend this house party, she was so grateful, because it had enlivened her father.

The twins sang while Penny played the pianoforte. Angeline was proud of her sister. Penny had a natural talent, but she blushed and lowered her eyes the entire time she played.

When she finished, Angeline’s protective instincts rose up. She sat on the bench beside Penny. “I’ll turn the pages while you play.”

Penny smiled. “Thank you, Angie. I always feel braver when you sit beside me while I play.”

“You will practice playing before others at the house party, and if you concentrate on the music, that will help. If you think too much about others watching, it will make you nervous.

“Remember that all the other girls are as nervous as you are. Keep your eyes on the music sheets and shut out everything else.”

“I will remember,” Penny said, and started to play again.

Penny had to overcome her fear of exhibiting before a crowd. It was important, because she would be called upon to play next spring at her debut. Angeline bit her lip and hoped that her scandal would not affect Penny’s come-out. She’d discovered that she could withstand horrible gossip and humiliation, but she could not bear it if her mistakes prevented her little sister from making her debut.

Margaret stood. “Angeline, I must apologize. You received a letter today. How could I have forgotten?”

“Thank you, Margaret.” Angeline whispered to her sister, “Keep playing.”

She walked over to the window seat, broke the seal, and turned the paper. “It’s from Charlotte.” She’d not had a letter from her friend in all the time she’d been abroad. She’d missed her and thought she would never hear from her again. Her emotions rose up, but she had learned how to keep it all buried inside by imagining a steaming kettle. Take if off the fire just before the steam reaches the boiling point.

Out of the corner of her eye, Angeline saw her mother watching. In need of privacy, she rose, and as she walked to the window seat, she overheard Margaret say the letter seemed like a good omen. Angeline could not imagine it. With a deep breath, she started reading.

Dearest Angeline,

It is my greatest hope that this letter finds you well. Please forgive me for my lapse in correspondence. It was not of my choice, and now I must not tarry. My husband would be displeased if he knew. Please know that not a day has gone by that I haven’t missed you.

In the interval since she’d returned home from Paris, she’d been isolated with her family. It was one thing to know her reputation was damaged in the abstract, but it was quite another when it was poor enough that a friend’s husband forbade contact. She knew the reason and still felt guilty because Charlotte’s husband had been furious.