What a Reckless Rogue Needs

Chapter Six





Breakfast the next morning

Colin finished his baked eggs, sausages, and roll. He drank his tea and smiled at Angeline. “I’m anxious to get started for the day.”

“I look forward to it as well,” she said. “I plan to take an apron so that I can help you in the attic again.”

“In the attic?” Margaret said. “I had no idea you were working in the attic.”

Wycoff frowned. “Angeline, such a task is beneath you. Let the maid do the work.”

“She will not know what is valuable and what is not. There is much to do, and I’m determined to be useful.”

Colin was glad to see her in much better spirits this morning, but after his conversation with his father yesterday, he wanted to make sure Wycoff knew they would preserve the proprieties. “The maid will be there at all times and will perform tasks as directed.”

Ames entered the breakfast parlor before his father could reply. “My lord, Mr. Faraday has arrived. I’ve installed him in the anteroom.”

The marquess set his cup aside. “I’m ready, Ames. Send him to my study in ten minutes.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Colin, I will send for you after I conclude my meeting,” the marquess said.

He’d wanted to leave as soon as breakfast ended. What the devil did his father want now? There was nothing for it. He would have to cool his heels and hope that his father’s first meeting did not take too long.

“Angeline, you will join us in the drawing room until Colin is ready to depart,” the duchess said.


While everyone else filed out, Colin and Angeline lingered for a few moments.

“I’d hoped to leave sooner,” he said.

“I will count the minutes until I can put my needle aside,” she said. “Patience is not one of my virtues.”

“At least my father knows I’m serious about the property.”

“Perhaps by the end of the week, we will have something to show for our efforts. Your father will have no doubt you intend to transform Sommerall.”

He appreciated her belief in him, but there was something in her attitude that troubled him. Colin wondered how much her father’s neglect had wounded her. Whatever had happened to her, he didn’t believe it was hopeless. She’d been engaged to a rotten man and ought to be applauded for having the good sense to end it. Good God, her father was a duke. Surely his influence could have turned matters around, but he did not know the particulars.

Obviously, she’d not known the man’s bad character. But Wycoff must have known. Why had he given his blessing?

Chances were he would never know. Perhaps that was for the best.



Forty minutes later, after a footman summoned Colin, he strode to his father’s study and knocked on the door.

“Come in and shut the door, please,” the marquess said.

He took a chair in front of his father’s desk.

“I will get to the point,” the marquess said. “Mr. Faraday is very interested in the property, even though he understands it needs a great deal of work.”

His father’s words stunned him.

“I daresay you thought I had invented the offer in an attempt to force you to find a wife. Am I correct?”

He briefly considered prevaricating and then decided to be honest. “It crossed my mind.”

“Mr. Faraday is aware of your concerns about your mother’s mausoleum, and as such, he is willing to make a higher offer as recompense, but there is another property that interests him.”

He gripped the arms of the chair hard. “There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate.”

“I am not insensible to your feelings on the matter, but there is something important I wish to ask you. You need to be honest with me.”

“Very well.”

“Sommerall was always intended for you, but I could not bring myself to step inside the house. At one point, I considered selling because I knew it needed attention. Yesterday was the first time I’ve been in the house since your mother’s death. I loved her dearly, God rest her soul, but life went on. It was Margaret who convinced me to keep the property for you. She has always blamed herself for your estrangement from our family.”

He swallowed hard, remembering his conversation with Angeline about his family. Yet, his stepmother was the one who had convinced his father not to sell. “It was not her fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” he said. “Are you planning to occupy the property? That means marriage, because I know you won’t do it when you’re single.” He folded his hands on his desk. “I don’t want to hear excuses or promises that you will wed in a few years. I have an offer, and I need you to tell me the truth. Are you willing to find a wife soon and reside at Sommerall?”

“You gave me six weeks to find a bride,” he said. “Will you rescind that decision?”

“No, I made it in good faith. Faraday understands that it will not be available until then, but again, it is not the only one he is considering,” the marquess said.

His temples ached. “You asked for honesty. I don’t want to rush the decision and find out too late that I’ve made a mistake. It is for life. I need more time.”

“Time is the one thing I cannot grant you. I previously told Faraday the property would be available in six weeks. That is what we agreed upon.”

Bloody hell. “I will occupy the house, but I need five months to find a bride. The season will open, and I will begin a serious search for a wife. I believe it is a reasonable compromise.”

“No doubt you mean to do as you say, but I know what will happen when you return to London. You will fall back into your old ways with your reckless friends. You will drink to excess, gamble, and chase lightskirts. You may even consider settling down—someday in the future. Like every bachelor in the world, you are convinced that your life will end as you know it. And it will—for the better.”

He had to bite back a sarcastic remark.

“If you’re not serious about wedding and occupying the property, tell me now.”

He flexed his hands. “I’m not inclined to make spur-of-the-moment decisions.”

“Why wait? You either know you will decline or accept.”

“This is a lifetime decision and I wish to think it over carefully.”

“You’re stalling,” the marquess said.

He gripped the arms of the chair in an effort to control his reactions. “Call it what you will, but I want the entire six weeks.”

The marquess rose. “Very well. Our meeting is concluded.”

Colin stood. Damn you, I will not give up without a fight.



Colin’s expression was as grim as the overcast sky.

Angeline kept silent as he escorted her to the carriage. Clearly his meeting with his father had not gone well.

“My father instructed me to take Agnes up in the carriage, but she’s sitting beside John.”

“She will feel more comfortable keeping John company.” More important, Angeline knew Colin was angry, and he needed to air his grievances.

After they boarded the carriage, he sat with his back to the horses and knocked his cane on the ceiling. Minutes later, it rolled off. She was tempted to ask him what had transpired, but he turned his attention to the window.

When the carriage turned onto the main road, he sighed. “I beg your pardon. I ought to have called off the journey to Sommerall, but I could not bring myself to stay at Deerfield for the remainder of the day. I should have informed you that I must call off all further efforts, but I knew that would cause a stir.”

“Sit with me so that I don’t have to raise my voice,” she said.

He moved over to her bench.

“Do you wish to tell me what happened? If not, I will understand.”

“My father met with the man who is very interested in the purchase of Sommerall. The marquess will honor the six-week agreement we made. At the end of that time, he will sell to Faraday if the man chooses it over the other one he is considering.”

“Surely he’s not serious.”

“Yes, he is very serious. We agreed I would give him my decision, one way or the other, in six weeks.” He blew out his breath and laughed without mirth. “I actually considered going to London and choosing the first lady who crossed my path, but I can’t do it. I should have told my father no immediately. His demands are impossible. Now I must reconcile myself to losing Sommerall.”

“He ought to trust you. You are his only son.”

“Isn’t trust earned?” he said.

His cynical expression stunned her. “What do you mean?”

“There are reasons my father doesn’t trust me. Make no mistake. I had no intention of attending the house party, and he knows it. The only reason I made the journey was because my father informed me in a letter that he meant to sell Sommerall.” He met her gaze. “I would never have traveled here otherwise.”

“Not even to see your family?”


A hard look came into his eyes. “Do you want the truth or do you want the fairy-tale version?”

She laced her gloved fingers and stared at her hands. “You wish to persuade me you care nothing for your family.” She met his gaze. “But I have seen your affection for your sisters. I do not deny you have a bad reputation, but I do not believe you are quite as wicked as you wish me to think.”

“I’ll not argue degrees of wickedness,” he said, “but you know to be wary of a man like me.”

She wondered if his words about himself were meant to push her away. “The marquess is a wealthy man,” she said. “He has no urgent reason to sell.”

“Of course he does,” Colin said. “Look around you. It’s a miracle the place is as sound as it is, but eventually neglect will take a toll.”

“I understand, but what difference will five months make to him? None. But for you, it is crucial. Marriage cannot be undone, at least not without scandal. He should give you a chance.”

He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve given him reason to mistrust me.” He sighed. “I am sorry to have misled you today. If you wish, I can stop the driver and turn back.”

He looked defeated. “We will continue on,” she said. “Because there is something we can do with the time allotted to us. The house party will not conclude for another three weeks. We will search through every trunk and every box until we find your mother’s miniature.”

“It may not turn up.”

She set her hand on his sleeve. “No matter what happens, we will make every effort.” At least he would know that he’d tried, although there was little comfort in it.

He nodded. “It’s bound to be in one of those infernal trunks. I have little time to find it.”

She prayed that it was in one of the trunks. He would take it hard if they never located it.



They worked tirelessly in the attic. Colin set the paintings of his grandparents aside, along with one of his father. Angeline found one of him holding a puppy. “I love this one of you.”

“Ah, Spotty,” he said. “He was a good dog.”

“How old were you in this portrait?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can tell it is you.”

“No, you cannot,” he said.

“Of course I can. I would know those curls anywhere.”

He laughed. “I used to go along for the shooting with my father and grandfather. Spotty would fetch any birds they hit, which wasn’t very often. Our fathers are truly the worst shots in England.”

She laughed. “Was there a portrait of your parents?”

“These are the only ones I’ve found. The others are probably stored at Deerfield.”

He’d saved only a few items in one trunk, including the correspondence they’d forgotten to take yesterday after their heated exchange.

He opened another trunk and said little as he piled crates high with pewter dishes, clocks, bottles, candles, sheets, brushes, shaving accoutrements, soap, and old clothing. There was more, but it all seemed like a blur to her. The detritus of another lifetime filled the room.

When Agnes entered the attic much later, Angeline stood and realized her arms were a bit sore from the work. She removed her gloves and addressed Agnes. “Have you finished cleaning the furnishings in the bedchambers?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You might as well take your meal with John.”

“I took the liberty earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you, my lady.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Agnes.”

“If it pleases you, I’d be glad to test the range in the fireplace. I found sand for the floor.”

Angeline blinked. “Sand?”

“Yes, my lady. It’s for catching any sparks and preventing fires.”

She was a scullery maid and would know such things. Angeline looked at Colin. “Do you have any reservations?”

He opened another trunk. “Agnes, I presume you have experience?”

“Yes, my lord. It’s my job to start the fire in the kitchen and fireplaces at Deerfield.”

Colin dusted his hands. “Ring the bell if there’s a problem, even a minor one. Safety first.”

“Yes, my lord.” She bobbed a curtsy and left.

“That will save us the bother of bringing Cook here,” Angeline said.

Colin took out his watch. “It’s after two o’clock. You must be starving.”

She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, this is hard work,” he said. “I fear this is a fool’s errand.”

“I disagree,” she said. “You found portraits, and the items in the crates will find good homes. We will find the miniature. It’s bound to be here somewhere.”

His smile faded. “There are only two trunks left.”

She must keep positive for his sake. “Well, we just haven’t rummaged in the right trunk yet.”

He sighed. “Let’s repair to the breakfast parlor. I don’t want you to swoon from hunger.”

She scoffed. “I’ve never swooned in my life, and I do not plan to start now.”

He put his hands on his hips. “And deprive me of rescuing you?”

“No doubt it has escaped your notice, but I’m not one of those dainty, petite ladies. You’re likely to put your back out.”

A devilish gleam entered his eyes as he advanced on her. “You think I’m too weak to pick you up?”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“You say that frequently,” he said, cornering her.

“Stop that nonsense. I’m hungry.”

He caught her by the waist. She squeaked when he put her over his shoulder. “Put me down.”

“Say please.”

“I’m going to kick you. One…two…”

Her feet hit the floor. She adjusted her bodice and shook her finger. “You will not do that again.”

“By now you should know better than to challenge me.”

“You had better keep an eye over your shoulder. I intend to get even.”

He laughed and led her downstairs to the breakfast parlor. She realized he’d managed to charm her, and she thought how easily she could develop tender feelings for him. In the process, she would look very much the pathetic spinster. No matter what had happened to her, she still had her pride, and she refused to be the object of anyone’s pity.

After they finished their meal, she realized his earlier good mood had disappeared.

“Colin, don’t worry. We will find the miniature.”

“Even if we do, it won’t change anything. Sommerall will pass out of my family.”

“Do you want to visit your mother’s resting place now?”

“No.”

“Perhaps tomorrow?” she said.

“Tomorrow I will give my father notice to sell.”

“You can’t give up,” she said. “You negotiated for six more weeks.”

He sighed. “It won’t change anything,” he said.

His shoulders were slumped and his expression was dispirited. Part of her wanted to encourage him to do everything in his power to retain Sommerall, but he clearly wanted to be done with it forever. She feared he would regret giving up, but it was his decision, not hers.

“Let us go upstairs. I want to finish quickly.”



He opened the last two trunks. They knelt side by side. She prayed for a miracle as she set the folded sheets, blankets, and candleholders aside. There was nothing else inside.


“No luck here.” Colin stood and extended his hand to her. She took it and felt his loss as if it were her own.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I expected it.”

She had no words of comfort and knew they wouldn’t help anyway.

“Will you come with me to the drawing room? I don’t want to depart just yet,” he said.

“Yes, of course.”

He led her down the stairs and into the drawing room. She perched on a sofa, and he sat beside her.

“Thank you for your faith in me and for your assistance,” Colin said. “While our efforts were for naught, I am grateful to you.”

“I wish you would reconsider approaching your father. You deserve at least six months.”

He shook his head. “He is adamant. Once he makes a decision, he rarely changes his mind. In this case, he won’t. We will have little opportunity to talk with so many others about, but thanks to you, I will make more of an effort with my family.”

At least she’d managed to help him in that regard. “You will never regret it.”

“There is something else, and you are under no obligation to answer. I’m greatly disturbed by what happened to you and about your father’s state of mind. The day he came here, his spirits seemed good, but when he heard our mothers discussing plans for you, he was extremely discomposed. He was also drinking copious amounts of brandy. I don’t want to judge him, as I’ve been guilty of overindulging, but I had the impression that he is overwrought.”

She looked at her clasped hands. “It’s my fault.”

“You’re not responsible for his reactions.”

She met his eyes briefly. “I was taken in by a cad.”

“Angeline, it occurs to me that you have no one to talk to about what happened. I know whatever occurred is painful for you. You’ve likely had to hold it all inside. I think that must make matters far worse. If you prefer privacy, I understand, but I will listen without judgment.”

He’d honed in on one of the most difficult aspects. She’d had no one to confide in and had never felt comfortable discussing the events with her mother. In truth, she’d hidden much from her mother in Paris to spare her additional pain.

She took a deep breath. “You are perceptive. There has been no one I could trust, and by the time everything fell apart, I had no friends to confide in. Everyone had shunned me. I don’t blame them at all. We both know the rules of the ton. Almost anything is tolerated except indiscretion, but I am beforehand in my tale.”

“Start from the beginning,” he said.

“Not once did it ever occur to me that I might ever be in danger from a rake. Who would dare meddle with a duke’s daughter? So I flirted, danced, and traded quips with gentlemen. I ignored my mother’s dire warnings that I’d gained the label of flirt and was courting trouble. Then one day, I awoke to the realization that I was thirty years old and in serious danger of becoming a spinster.”

“How did you get involved with Brentmoor?”

“Charlotte invited me to join her and her husband, Viscount Portsworth, at Vauxhall. There was a large party in the box, and I felt safe with my friends. Brentmoor joined the group, but he was not one of the invited guests. Portsworth did not ask him to leave, probably because he didn’t want to create a stir.”

Colin nodded. “Yes, it’s usually best to ignore the interlopers, but I suspect Brentmoor made a habit of it.”

“I knew Brentmoor had a bad reputation, but I didn’t give him a second thought. I figured he would not dare trifle with me in the presence of esteemed friends. After a while, someone suggested the group walk along the lighted avenues. Brentmoor made it a point to walk beside me. When he tried to flirt, I told him he was wasting his breath. I might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. The evening concluded without incident, and I promptly dismissed him from my thoughts.

“Thereafter, he seemed to be at every entertainment I attended. He tried to charm me, but I refused his requests to dance. One night I left a crowded ballroom to get some air on the landing. I fanned my hot face and paid scant attention to the group of gentlemen nearby. Then I overheard one of them say that I was headed for ape territory.”

Colin gritted his teeth. It was a derogatory term for spinsters. “Who was he?”

“I’ve no idea. As you can imagine, I did not want to face them. In hindsight, I should have stared them down with my head held high, but I was humiliated. My mother had warned me about the perils of waiting too long to marry, but I didn’t think it applied to me. I thought my father’s rank would protect me. I was desperate to keep my composure, but I was shaking. Then Brentmoor was at my side. He’d heard it all and damned the cads who had dared to speak of me in such an insulting manner.

“He insisted on escorting me into the ballroom to my father, where I would be safer. Then he apologized and said he knew he wasn’t worthy of me. Of course, I negated that statement, and my father was grateful. After all, he was kind to me and admitted his character was imperfect. The next day he called upon me and spoke to my father. Once again, he admitted he was unworthy, but he had wanted to ensure I had recovered from that heinous insult. He stated that he would not presume to call again, because he was unfit.

“My mother was suspicious, but my father thought Brentmoor’s honesty about his faults showed his character wasn’t all bad. Thereafter, he would seek out my father at entertainments.”

“He was scheming,” Colin said.

“Oh, yes, but we did not know it then. He discovered my father loved to play chess, and my father invited him to call. Afterward, he regularly came to our town house to play with my father.”

“He is an opportunist,” Colin said.

“My first inkling of doubt came from Penny’s reaction. She left the drawing room every time Brentmoor called. She is especially sensitive. When I asked her about it, she said his eyes lied. I thought it strange and let it go. I should have paid attention.

“Then one night after we’d danced, he told me that he was in danger of falling in love with me, but of course he was undeserving. Deep down, I knew that something wasn’t quite right, but I persuaded myself that I was in love, because I feared being a spinster. He admitted to my father that he was in debt. His father was a known drunkard, and he said that he gambled because his father was almost bankrupt. I did not know it then, but my father loaned him money.”

“The devil,” Colin said.

“My friend Charlotte tried to counsel me to be wary of him. She was very worried, because her husband had told her that I was making a bad mistake. I was a little angry at her presumption. At every point, I ignored the warning signs, because I feared that I would end up a spinster. Oh, God, if I had only known.”

“He duped your father. Do not blame yourself.”

“How can I not blame myself? I had doubts. I knew something wasn’t right.”

“There are men who are experts at deceiving others. They sense other’s vulnerabilities and take advantage. When doubts come to the forefront, they manage to ease them.”

“You describe his character well. I feel like a fool.”

“You should not.”

“He proposed, and I accepted. By then, he’d said all the right things to my father, who approved. My parents had a row over it. Like Penny, my mother saw through him. I pleaded with her. Brentmoor was trying to turn his life around, and he’d not had a good father to guide him. My own father agreed, and the contracts were duly signed. It was at that point his true character emerged.”


“What happened?”

“One night at a ball, Brentmoor took me aside and complained he was frustrated. He said he feared I was a prude and wanted me to prove myself, but I refused to allow him liberties until we were married.”

“Good for you,” Colin said. Privately, he was relieved. It would have been a nightmare if the scoundrel had gotten her with child.

“He was determined. At another ball, he pointed out the lanterns in a garden and the other guests walking about. He assured me there was no impropriety. At first, all was well, but then he took me away from the lanterns. When I chided him, he managed to make me feel guilty for denying him. We were engaged, so I let him kiss me. I believed he would behave like a gentleman, but when a group of men came near, he gave me a lascivious kiss and plastered himself against me. I could tell it excited him for others to see us, but I was mortified.”

“You ought to have slapped him.”

“In front of others? I dared not create a scene.”

“I never thought about how a woman might be entrapped that way.”

“Of course you would not, because you would never do such a thing. I knew in my heart that the way he was treating me was wrong. I should have called off the engagement at that moment.”

“Why did you not?” Colin asked.

“Because I knew if I broke the engagement that it would hurt my reputation.” She shook her head. “I should have consulted my parents, but they were in disagreement over my engagement, and that alone should have decided me.”

“Angeline, I suspect that he twisted matters and caused you to question your judgment.”

“He did,” she said. “He was very persuasive—he had to be or my father would never have let him step over the threshold. He concentrated all of his charm on my father and me. But he ignored Penny and Mama. They saw through him.”

“When your father thanked Brentmoor for rescuing you at that ball, he’d given Brentmoor the opening he needed. He concentrated on you and your father because you were the decision-makers. In order to get what he wanted—your fortune—he needed to make you believe he was a gentleman who had experienced undeserved misfortune at the hands of his father. Similarly, he needed to persuade your father that he was seeking parental guidance. He gulled you and your father. When your father spoke well of him, you believed Brentmoor was a gentleman. Similarly, when you mentioned Brentmoor’s wish to improve his character, your father believed him worthy of consideration, particularly because he was so humble. In essence he played the two of you simultaneously. What finally prompted you to end the engagement?”

“One evening, Brentmoor made plans to meet a friend at White’s. I was glad for the reprieve. To be honest, I felt I needed to think carefully about the step I was about to make. I was starting to feel a little panicked. If he really loved me, he would have respected my decision to wait for marriage and not press me constantly. I had so many doubts and wish now that I had listened to my own heart.

“That very night, my friend Charlotte invited me to accompany her to a ball, because her husband was out of town. I welcomed the invitation, and her younger brother escorted us. I never thought anything could possibly go wrong at a respectable entertainment.

“I distinctly recall seeing Lady Cunningham, whom I’d met once. She was the widow of a much older man. She had the strangest expression when I saw her staring at me from a distance. The word that came to mind was gloating. I ignored it.

“The ballroom was hot and crowded. I do not know how much time passed when I went to get a cup of punch. A footman approached and asked if I was Lady Angeline, and when I said yes, he handed me a folded note. I did not recognize the handwriting. I sought out Charlotte and showed her the strange note with instructions to go up two flights of stairs and knock on the fourth door on the right. Charlotte advised me not to follow the instructions, as it might be a trick. Curiosity got the better of me, and Charlotte reluctantly accompanied me.”

“What happened?” Colin asked.

“When we reached the door, Charlotte begged me not to knock. I told her that I wanted to confront whoever had sent that note. When I knocked, Brentmoor’s voice rang out. I will never forget his words. It was ugly.”

“What did he say?”

“Go away, I’m…well, you can supply the filthy word he used. A feminine laugh rang out. The squeaking of bed ropes told me more than I wanted to know.”

“He is beyond disgusting,” Colin said.

“Charlotte pleaded with me to leave immediately, but I was enraged and knocked repeatedly. The bed ropes squeaked again. I heard the rustling of skirts. When he opened the door, his trousers were only half buttoned. Lady Cunningham smirked at me as she shook out her skirts. Fury raced through me like a wildfire. I was enraged and slapped him. Of course the commotion led others to race up the stairs. I had done the unpardonable by creating a scene. You know the ton will tolerate many things, but not indiscretion.”

“What happened?” he said.

“Charlotte’s brother ushered us downstairs, but by then the gossip was flying. My face was as hot as fire, but I walked down those stairs and through the foyer with my head held high, even though I saw others staring. I thought they would support me, because he had been unfaithful. I was na?ve to believe it.

“My heart hammered, and I kept telling Charlotte I was sorry for ever involving her. After her brother took me home, I was still shaking as I walked into the house. My parents had not returned from the opera. I decided to wait until morning to confess the sorry story, but I did not sleep at all that night.

“You can imagine my parents’ horrified reaction upon hearing what had occurred. My father’s face grew mottled and my mother was pale. When I told them I would cry off, my mother rushed out of the drawing room. I was worried and followed her. She’d gotten sick. The consequences had not yet dawned on me. I was not thinking clearly or I would have realized that breaking an engagement would result in gossip, but I didn’t realize it would get far worse.”

“You were still in shock,” Colin said.

“My father sent round a message to Brentmoor, demanding he present himself posthaste. When Brentmoor arrived, he said it was all a misunderstanding and that he sought relief elsewhere to protect my feminine sensibilities before the marriage.”

“The devil,” Colin said.

“An apt description of him. At that point, my shock had worn off. When I told him that we were no longer affianced, his face paled. No doubt he’d counted on my fortune. After he departed, I was relieved, but it did not last. Charlotte called on me three days later. After my mother left the room, Charlotte reluctantly divulged the horrible news her brother had revealed. Brentmoor claimed he’d…”

“What did he claim?”

“He said he had l-lain with me many times.”

“He should be shot,” Colin said. “Why did I never hear a word about it?”

“Most likely no one would have repeated it to you because of our family connections. I never told my parents about the slur. Mama was a ball of nerves, and Papa wouldn’t even leave his study.”

“Why would anyone believe Brentmoor?”

“We had been affianced for a fortnight, and others had seen him plastered against me in the unlit portion of the gardens.”


Colin scowled. “He planned it.”

“Probably. I will never know for certain. The repercussions were awful. My father refused to see anyone.”

“He blamed himself,” Colin said.

“My mother’s two closest friends called four days later to warn her about the gossip. It was bad. My mother’s friends advised taking me to the Continent. It did no good. My reputation followed me to Paris, though my mother still has no idea.”

Colin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“A number of Frenchmen made me scandalous offers.”

He bounded off the sofa and fisted his hands. She could hear him breathing like a racehorse. “Colin, it is in the past. Nothing can be changed.”

“I will call him out.”

“If you did, it would only make matters worse because it would renew the scandal.”

“He deserves to be horse whipped.”

“The part that keeps me awake at night is what I’ve done to my family.”

“You are innocent,” he said.

“You don’t understand. The scandal will follow Penny. She is the innocent in all of this, and she will suffer by association.” Her face crumpled. “My sweet little sister m-may never have a come-out because of me.”

He strode back to her and pulled out a handkerchief. “You did nothing wrong.”

She blotted her eyes. “My quick temper landed me in trouble. Had I maintained my composure that night, had I walked away as a lady ought, had I listened to Charlotte, I would have escaped the scandal. I could have survived a broken engagement. My mother’s friends would have championed me. Others might have questioned my virtue, but I could have overcome it if I had not played into Lady Cunningham’s scheme. I am sure she was behind it.”

“Angeline, I cannot believe there is no way to resolve this.”

She huffed. “There is. Marriage to a very wealthy and titled gentleman, but no man with sense wants a woman with a ruined past. He would have to be desperate.”

Colin stared at her.

The backs of her hands prickled at his intense expression. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“As it happens, I am desperate.”





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