What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(94)

“I agree,” the marquess said. “When will you travel to London?”

“I’ll stay until Wycoff and his family members depart.”

The marquess’s brows rose. “That is surprising. I thought this would be the perfect excuse for you to speed away and kick up your heels in London again. I was sure the lures of actresses, lightskirts, and gaming hells would tempt you.”

He smiled a little. “I have my reasons for staying.”

“Angeline?” the marquess said.

“She lent her expertise and was supportive of my claim to Sommerall.”

“I see,” the marquess said. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. Oh, and by the by, I could not help noticing the ladies advised you to marry Lady Angeline. I found it rather amusing, given that the pair of you have been at odds forever.”

He said nothing. If he married her, she would be able to attend some society entertainments, but it wasn’t enough. Worse, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to marry him. He meant to change her mind, but first she must take her rightful place as Lady Angeline and then God willing, she would consent to marry him and become Lady Ravenshire. If he was really lucky, she would make frequent private appearances as a famous courtesan in the boudoir. The idea of marriage was becoming more enticing by the day.

“I’m sorry about Sommerall,” the marquess said. “I’ve wracked my brains trying to figure out a way to refuse to sell it to Faraday, but I’ve yet to come up with an honorable solution.”

“Thank you for trying,” he said. “I take the blame. I took Sommerall for granted. It might have been mine years ago if I’d made efforts to show I deserved it, but I didn’t. It’s a lesson I won’t soon forget.”

The marquess opened the door and then looked back at him. “Son, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Carry on,” the marquess said, and closed the door.

Colin sighed. He would never be able to take possession of Sommerall now. In the light of day, the secret engagement seemed a rather cold business. At the time he’d suggested it, they had both been desperate enough to seize upon that witless plan. But he’d grown attached to Sommerall and was sorry his quest to possess the property hadn’t worked out. He’d lost it forever, but he would carry the memory of making love to Angeline that stormy night for the rest of his life. She was an incredible woman, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her get away. She had a big heart and a saucy retort always at the ready.

He wanted to clear her name completely and freely, but it seemed rather daunting. He had no illusions about the difficulties she faced, but he knew how much it would mean to her to attend her sister’s debut. Perhaps at the very least, she could attend quietly with support from a handful of true friends.

She should be able to choose her spouse rather than have to settle for an arranged marriage, but it was complicated. He did not want to lose her, but he feared he might be too late. He might have to do something drastic, although he wasn’t sure what that might be. Angeline deserved a proper wedding, and God knew he would be ready to settle down after he used his fists on Brentmoor.



Sunday morning

Colin tugged on his cravat and ducked his head in his father’s study. “Oh, good, you’re not working.”

“Is this another special occasion?” the marquess said. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning. I expected you to be in bed after a nightlong debauch.”

“Alas there is a dearth of debauches in the country, so I’ll have to settle for church.”

“God save us.”

“May I come in?”

The marquess regarded him over his spectacles. “Yes, of course. Be seated.”

Colin slouched in the cross-framed armchair. “Is Margaret really that strict about the Sabbath?”

“Oh, yes. Now, I’ll give you a tip about women since it appears your friends’ mothers and wives are urging you to leap into matrimony. Never lie to a woman. They can sniff it at fifty paces.”

“So, did Margaret catch you not working?”

“I always knew you were clever. What is on your mind, son?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, two things.”

“Start with one,” the marquess said.

“I was thinking of looking for a property in the neighborhood.”

The marquess put his hand behind his ear. “Repeat that please before I fall off my chair.”

“You heard me. I wondered if you have any recommendations.”

The marquess set his pen aside and crossed his arms on the desk. “Are you unwell?”

Colin laughed. “No.”

The marquess drew out a quizzing glass from his pocket and peered at his son. “Hmmm. I don’t see any spots or fevered cheeks. But something tells me you are suffering from a malady known to many young men. Could it be you are in love?”

Colin’s ears got a little warm. “I haven’t asked—not properly.”

The marquess dropped the quizzing glass. “Do I want to hear this story?”

Colin shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“Do you plan to make a proper proposal to Lady Angeline?”

“Yes, but she turned me down.”