What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(9)

He chuckled softly, remembering how his own father had given him a blistering lecture many years ago. God knew he’d been as wild as the proverbial March hare in his day, but like his father before him, the marquess intended to force his son to leave behind his raking for good.





Chapter Two



The next morning

Colin had just sat down with a plate of baked eggs, bacon, and a roll when he heard his father shout outside the dining room. “I’d better investigate,” he said.

Naturally, everyone at the table followed him into the great hall, where the marquess stood holding the funniest-looking puppy Colin had ever clapped eyes on. It was a wrinkly pug with a black snout.

“Bianca, Bernadette!” the marquess roared.

The twins padded into the great hall with widened eyes. Colin suspected his sisters had perfected their innocent expressions.

The pug wriggled in the marquess’s hands. “Be still, animal.”

“Oh, Papa,” Bianca cried. “You found Hercules.”

“In the water closet,” the marquess shouted.

Angeline walked up beside Colin. “Oh, dear, your father is overset,” she said under her breath.

Hercules licked the marquess’s hand.

Colin covered his grin at the affronted expression on his father’s face.

“This animal is an abomination,” the marquess said.

Colin approached his father and tried to ignore the distinctive odor of urine. “Father, are you all right?”

“Do I look all right? This sorry excuse for a dog ruined my boots.” He looked over his shoulder. “Ames!”


The butler strode into the hall.

“Throw this disgusting canine into the dustbin,” the marquess demanded.

“Nooooooo,” the twins cried out simultaneously.

Margaret gathered the girls in her arms. “Hush, Papa will not throw Hercules in the dustbin.”

“Oh, yes, I will!”

Fat tears welled in Bianca’s and Bernadette’s eyes.

Colin folded his arms over his chest, knowing his gruff father wouldn’t be able to withstand their tears. Doubtless the twins knew precisely how to manipulate him.

Ames held out his hands for the dog.

The marquess narrowed his eyes at his daughters. “He stays in the kitchen. I do not want to see him above stairs ever again or he goes. Do I make myself understood?”

Bianca and Bernadette ran to the marquess and hugged him. “Oh, Papa, thank you,” Bianca said, sniffing.

Bernadette brushed her finger under her eye. Colin was fairly certain it wasn’t a tear, but he must credit his sisters for their theatrical performance.

The marquess patted his daughters awkwardly and addressed Ames. “The water closet floor needs to be cleaned.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The marquess sat on a chair, removed his boots, and signaled a footman. “The smell will never come out. Burn them.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The twins volunteered to take Hercules to the kitchen. Colin suspected they would sneak the pug to their room at the first opportunity.

“Colin, we will meet in my study in thirty minutes,” the marquess said.

He inclined his head and thought his father looked rather undignified as he walked up the steps in his stockings.



Precisely thirty minutes later, Colin rapped on his father’s study door.

“Come in,” the marquess said.

When he entered, his father continued writing. “Be seated,” he said.

Colin jiggled his leg, an old habit. Be calm; be confident.

The marquess sanded the paper, folded it, and applied a seal. When his father opened a new letter, Colin forced himself to relax his jaw. He understood his father’s silent message: patience.

He did not expect this interview to be easy. His father would likely interrogate him, but he was prepared.

The marquess set the letter aside. “You requested this meeting. I will hear you out, but I am disinclined to make a gift of the property simply because you are my son.”

Colin lifted his chin. “I understand. However, I am willing to take responsibility for all needed repairs.”

The marquess folded his hands on the polished desktop and regarded him with a patronizing expression. “I received an excellent offer. The prospective buyer is willing to make the purchase and see to any needed repairs. It will cost me nothing, but I will certainly gain from the sale. You probably do not have sufficient funds for renovations.”

Colin had expected this argument. “I understand that I would have to make a considerable investment.”

The marquess huffed. “You mean I would have to make the investment.”

“Only if you wished to contribute,” Colin said.

“Well, how else would you finance this venture? Beyond your quarterly funds, you have no other source of income.”

Colin knew that he would shock his father. “I’ve made investments in shipping.”

The marquess snorted. “So you’re literally waiting for your ship to come in.”

This is business. Keep your emotions out of it. “I’ve been investing a considerable portion of my quarterly funds since I was twenty-one.”

The marquess stared at him in a stupefied fashion. “You jest.”