What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(76)

“Daughter, are you well?” the duke demanded.

“Yes, I’m fine, Papa. Just a little rumpled in yesterday’s clothing.”

“I’m sorry for the miserable night,” Colin said, meeting her eyes. “I’m sure you will wish to rest once you are in your room.”

“I am fatigued. It was a long night, but I’m glad the storm passed.”

It was one of the best nights he’d had in years, but he kept that between his teeth.

“Well, we might as well go indoors,” the marquess said. “Colin, after you make yourself presentable, please attend me in my study.”

He nodded.



An hour later, he knocked on his father’s door and sat before the desk.

“That was quite a storm last night,” Colin said. “Is everything fine here at Deerfield?”

“Lightning struck a tree limb. I’ve got men chopping it now. Your sisters scared Penelope by telling ghost stories last night.”

He laughed. “I’m not surprised.”

“That ugly dog howled most of the night. I threatened to turn it out in the storm, but Margaret accused me of cruelty. Then your sisters started crying, and I thought we’d never get everybody in bed and asleep. What a night.” He paused and said, “What happened with Mr. and Mrs. Faraday? Did they show?”

“Oh, yes,” Colin said. When he finished the story, he said, “You probably would regret having them as neighbors. You would likely find them calling a little too often.”

“Something needs to be done,” the marquess said. “I can’t let the place go to rack and ruin, and it most certainly will if I do nothing. It’s a miracle the place has withstood the years as well as it has.”

“Last night, I feared the heavy rain would expose leaks, but everything appeared to be in good order.”

The marquess sighed. “I expect you know that Wycoff is concerned about you staying in the same house alone with his daughter.”

“We had no choice,” Colin said. “Would he have preferred I risk her life, that of the driver, and the horses?”

“Of course not,” the marquess said, “but it wouldn’t hurt if you reassured Wycoff that his daughter suffered no harm.”

Colin looked out the window and then he turned to his father. “I have no intention of reassuring Wycoff. I know she is his daughter, but it is disrespectful on his part to question either of us. Moreover, we are not sniveling adolescents.”

Of course their nocturnal and morning activities had not been innocent, but they were thirty-one years old and more than mature enough to deal with any consequences. Mind, he hoped there weren’t any, but if so, they would marry in a hurry.

But that only brought to mind this ridiculous secret engagement. Thank goodness he’d persuaded her to make the announcement in one week. He’d grown weary of it and did not see how they would prove anything by allowing the situation to drag on for another two and one-half weeks.

“Colin, you know what their family has been through,” the marquess said.

“Yes, a roué treated her badly, but Wycoff should take a portion of the blame. He has plenty of connections, and he let a known libertine hoodwink him.”

“I came to the same conclusion. He is a good friend, but in the case of Brentmoor, his judgment became clouded.”

Colin nodded. “Men like Brentmoor train their sights on the unwary. They recognize others’ vulnerabilities and take advantage.” He felt like a hypocrite. He’d taken advantage of Angeline last night. Of course, he would never admit it.

“Wycoff needs to own up to his mistakes, and he needs to be kind to his daughter,” Colin said.

The marquess frowned. “What do mean?”

“Wycoff is wrapped up in his own guilt. He keeps away from Angeline, and my understanding is that they were close before this all happened. He is wounding her as badly as Brentmoor.”

The marquess clasped his hands over his slight paunch. “I hesitate to get involved.”

“Who better than his oldest friend?” Colin said. “You will tell him what he needs to hear, not what he wants to hear.”

The marquess sighed. “It may well end in the ruin of a lifelong friendship.”

“He won’t like it,” Colin said. “What man would? But when he becomes defensive, you will tell him that he must stop wallowing in his guilt and be a husband and father to his family.”

“Where the devil did you acquire this wisdom?”

Colin huffed. “From you.”


His father burst out laughing.





Chapter Thirteen



Two days later

The grounds were too soggy and muddy for walking, so everyone was forced to spend their days indoors, except for the marquess and the duke, who didn’t think a little mud would hurt anyone. Margaret disagreed, but she’d long ago thrown up her hands when her husband tracked mud or dirt indoors.

Colin invited Angeline to play backgammon with him. He knew it would be a challenging game, because she was more clever than most, but he recalled their conversation the last time they had pretended to play. Since Margaret, the duchess, and the girls were involved in needlework, he figured the others would leave them to concentrate.

As they set up the stones for the game, he glanced at her. “You are well?”