What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(50)

Colin had intended only to give her a relatively chaste kiss, but the moment their lips met, he felt as if his blood were on fire. He imagined taking her on walks and sharing heated kisses, but he should not take advantage of her. If at the end of three weeks she changed her mind, it would prove dashed awkward when they parted ways because of the long-standing friendship of their parents.

He turned his attention to his father. “Agnes is a resourceful servant. She doesn’t wait for orders; she makes suggestions. You might mention it to Margaret.”

“I will,” the marquess said. “Have you decided that marriage is too high a price for Sommerall?”

Wycoff rose. “I’ll give you privacy.”

Colin noted Wycoff’s wan expression and slumped shoulders as he trudged out of the dining room.

The marquess sighed. “Wycoff’s spirits plunged again after hearing Margaret and the duchess exclaiming over that letter. I mentioned to Margaret that it might be best to leave off the plans for his sake, but she was adamant that the letter proved there was hope for Angeline.”

Colin circled the rim of his glass with his finger. He figured silence was for the best.

“I’ve thought of telling Wycoff to make an effort to rouse himself from this melancholia.”

“He blames himself.”

The marquess narrowed his eyes. “How do you know? Even I am not privy to the details of Angeline’s problems.”

He’d better be careful what he said, because Angeline had spoken to him in confidence. “I assume that he does based upon his actions and his reaction to that letter Angeline received in particular.”

“I suppose you’re correct,” the marquess said. “Now, you have not given me an answer about your intentions for Sommerall.”

“I’ll give you my answer when the house party ends.”

His father scoffed. “I’ll grant you the remaining three weeks to give me an answer, even though I’m fairly certain you would rather give up the property than marry.”

“If I did not want to take possession of Sommerall, I would have told you so immediately.”



When the duke entered the drawing room, Angeline was determined to persuade him to play chess with her. She hurried to intercept him, but her father walked past her and offered his arm to Penelope. Her father set up the board and seated her sister. Angeline trudged over to the window seat and considered quitting the drawing room, but someone would likely inquire why she was leaving, and the last thing she wanted was to attract attention.

There was no doubt that her father had withdrawn his affection. It hurt so much. She had once been her father’s favorite, and now he ignored her. Worse, Angeline found herself jealous of her little sister. They had always had a special bond, and of course, she shouldn’t begrudge her. But her father’s rejection cut like a knife in her heart.

A deep voice cut through her thoughts. “You look a hundred miles away.”

She lifted her gaze to find Colin. “I suppose I am.” She didn’t want to tell him about her father. The pain was unimaginable, but how could she blame her father for being disappointed in her? No, disappointment was too weak of a word to describe what she’d done to her family.

“You seem dispirited,” he said.

“It will pass.” She knew it would be a long time before the aching guilt left her.

“I wish there was something I could do to cheer you,” he said.

“I appreciate your concern.”

His gaze turned away from her. “Is it your father who troubles you?”

She stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

“He is not himself at all,” Colin said. “Have you noticed?”

She nodded, but she didn’t want to discuss the issue now. The wounds were still too raw.

Colin reached between them and squeezed her hand. “I know it is difficult now, but trust that everything will come about.”

She felt his gaze upon her and looked up at him.

“Everything will be well, Angeline.”

She wasn’t sure if his words were a promise or simply encouragement, but tonight, she needed someone to help her believe that everything would work out for her—for both of them.

“Are you afraid of me?” he said under his breath.

“No, I’m not afraid of you, but I fear that at the end of the house party you will feel obliged to marry me,” she said quietly. “I beg you to be honest. I could not bear it if you felt trapped.”

“You worry too much,” he whispered. “You look careworn.”

“I’m a little done up tonight.” She didn’t tell him it was because she was heartbroken that her father had snubbed her once again.

“Get some rest,” he said. “You will feel better tomorrow because of it.”

“Thank you, Colin.” Perhaps they would be able to find happiness together, but if they were to do so, she knew it was crucial that she not compare him to Brentmoor. Colin had been honest with her about what he wanted. They both would benefit as long as they were truthful with each other.

There had been that moment when she’d questioned his reasons for asking her to marry him, but he had been completely honest and so had she. As she wearily climbed the steps, she told herself that she must do it, despite her doubts. They would manage, and while it would never be the fairy-tale love match, it was preferable to a lonely life as a spinster.