Sometimes a Rogue Read online

  Sarah considered herself sensible, but she’d be willing to consider an offer from him. She wasn’t sure she’d accept, but she’d certainly consider. So would any intelligent female. But after Rob had time to think about his situation, the idea of marrying an heiress would sound more appealing. Of course they should like each other, but having money didn’t make a female unlikable.

  Not wanting to think about the lucky, likable heiress, she said, “The financial situation might not be as dire as you fear.”

  “It’s more likely to be worse than better,” he said pessimistically. “Since I wasn’t the heir and was estranged from my family, I’m ignorant of the most basic information. I don’t know which properties are entailed and which aren’t. Any unentailed property is probably mortgaged to the hilt and ripe for foreclosure. Entailed property can’t be foreclosed on, but the income can be seized, which would leave nothing but an empty, meaningless title. I just have no idea.”

  “I assume there’s a London house. They aren’t usually entailed, are they?”

  “No, but Kellington House is probably mortgaged. It’s on the top of my list of things to sell. I’ve scarcely ever seen the place, though I remember it as rather grand.”

  “The uncertainty of your financial situation must be driving you mad,” she said sympathetically. “Once you know where you stand, you’ll start finding solutions. I’d lay money that you wrote the family lawyer this morning.”

  “You’d win your bet.” He ran tense fingers through his hair. “I suppose I need to go up to town to talk with the lawyer in person. If Ashton hasn’t arrived or at least sent a carriage, I can deliver you to Ralston Abbey on the way. Maybe two days from now? There is much to be done here before I leave.”

  Sarah felt as if she’d been thrown from a horse and she couldn’t breathe, and not just because she felt like an inconvenient parcel that needed to be delivered. So her adventure was over. She’d no longer be able to talk and laugh with Rob, or admire that long, lean, powerful body. She’d probably meet him again someday, but she wasn’t part of his real life. She never had been.

  A thought struck her. “Bree will need a woman to care for her and about her. I’d suggest your housemaid, Francie, Jonas’s cousin. She’s kind and clever, and she’s done a good job of looking after me. We already discussed bringing in a seamstress from the village to make a basic wardrobe.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Bree is too old for a nursery maid, and a governess will have to wait.” He shook his head. “I’ll do my best to be a good father, but I can’t begin to guess how to be a good mother.”

  “Still another reason to marry,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’ll be glad to get back to my family, but I’ll miss you and all the excitement.”

  His gaze caught hers. “Don’t confuse me with the excitement, Sarah. It was a grand adventure that we both miraculously survived. But I’m not particularly interesting myself. I just do some interesting things.” He made a face. “At least, I used to. My life is about to become much less interesting.”

  “Paperwork will be dull after years spent catching villains and rescuing damsels in distress,” she agreed as she struggled to control her sense of hurt. She’d thought there was something special between them. A friendship as well as an attraction. But maybe he was like this with all his rescued damsels.

  Her instincts said no, and a touch of deviltry made her want to prove it. She set her glass of claret aside and circled the desk to where he was sitting. “I found this quite interesting.” She cupped his face with her hands and bent into a kiss.

  They’d kissed before, but with doubt and hesitation. This time she held nothing back. Only her hands and mouth touched him, but her lips were hot and hungry and it triggered an instant response. His arms went around her and he pulled her down so that she was straddling his knee, her breasts pressed into his chest and folds of green velvet cascading around them.

  “Sarah, Sarah,” he breathed. “A perfect princess.”

  One hand slid down her back, shaping her curves and leaving trails of fire in its wake as he pulled her even closer. The fingers of his other hand slid into her hair, loosening the pins and cradling her head tenderly.

  She’d experienced the intoxicating dawn of desire with Gerald, and she’d known a few sweet kisses in the years since. But they were nothing compared to the deep, powerful passion Rob aroused. The two of them might not love, but they could easily be friends and lovers.

  She wanted to devour him, surrender every shred of propriety. They were pressed together so intimately that his heat and hardness burned through the layers of green velvet. She pulsed against him, wanting more. Wanting everything.

  She gasped as his hand slid up her leg under the skirt. His touch was leisurely and skilled. When his fingers caressed the inside of her thigh, she thought she’d go mad with desire. Surely they could meld....

  He froze when he heard her gasp. Then he abruptly stood, catching her so that she didn’t fall and setting her on the edge of the desk as he backed away. “This is a really, really bad idea,” he panted.

  She pressed a hand to her heaving chest, seriously tempted to pick up the chair and smash it over his stubborn head. But as her blood cooled, she had to admit his point. “You’re probably right. But I wonder—is this much attraction rare? I’ve not experienced it before, but then, I don’t have much experience.”

  “It’s not common.” He closed his eyes a moment as he mastered himself.

  She sighed. “It seems a pity for us to waste it, since passion is considered a good foundation for marriage.”

  He looked at her uncertainly, as if wondering whether she was making an oblique proposal. Apparently deciding that she wasn’t, he said, “Passion is certainly a plus, but not the foundation. Friendship and shared values are the foundation, I think. Along with a willingness to work together.” He smiled wryly. “But what would I know? I’ve never been married. I’m a mere observer.”

  “But a very good observer, since observation is so important to your work.” She slid from the desk to the floor and tried to brush down her hair and riding habit. “It has been a most educational fortnight, but I’ve had as much education as I can stand for one day. Good night, Rob.”

  Head high, she strode to the door. Perhaps she’d been foolish to initiate that kiss, because it would make leaving him that much more difficult. Yet she didn’t regret it.

  But it didn’t seem fair that since Gerald’s death she hadn’t met a man she could imagine being married to. Now she’d met one—and she couldn’t have him.

  Rob stayed in the study long after Sarah left, staring sightlessly at her half-empty claret goblet. He’d inherited a title and a financial disaster and discovered a miraculous daughter. But at the moment, all he could think about was Sarah, and how much he’d miss her when she was gone. Hard to imagine that he could do better if he was looking for a life’s companion.

  Earlier, he’d been unable to imagine her living in a flat above a pawnshop, and now he couldn’t imagine dragging her into the financial morass that was his inheritance. She deserved a husband who could dote on her and keep her in comfort. What attention he could spare should go to his vulnerable young daughter. He was in no position to take on a wife. If he did look, it should be for an heiress.

  The idea made his stomach turn.

  Sarah’s advice was wise: the first thing he must do was determine how dire his situation was. He was good at solving problems once he knew what they were.

  He wouldn’t think about a wife. Especially not one who was beautiful and sunny and sensible and made his mind shut down altogether . . .

  Swearing to himself, he turned off the lamps and left the study. It was late and he was too tired to continue looking at estate papers.

  When he reached his room, he noticed light under a door down the hall. It was his grandmother’s suite of rooms. She’d always been a night owl. Since he’d have to talk with her eventually, maybe he should get it over
with.

  After he tapped at the door, it was opened by his grandmother’s maid, the accurately named Miss Cross. She scowled at him. It was a familiar expression from the past. “I’d like to speak with my grandmother. Is now a good time?”

  The maid said no, but her refusal was overridden by his grandmother’s sharp, “Send him in!”

  Reluctantly the maid stood aside and Rob entered his grandmother’s parlor. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in her rooms. The old lady was sitting by the fire, still dressed in her black mourning gown. “Ma’am.” He inclined his head. “I’m sorry to have survived against your wishes.”

  She snorted. “Wishes are so seldom fulfilled. Sit.” She indicated the chair on the opposite side of the fire. “But first pour us both some brandy. We’ll need it.”

  Reluctantly amused, he moved to the drinks cabinet and poured their brandies. After handing her a glass, he settled in the opposite chair. “You wish to fight with me?”

  She gave him a gimlet gaze. “Are you going to continue to tell lies about your brother?”

  He sighed. “I’ve never lied about him in the past and I’m not lying now. I don’t go out of the way to tell people how abominably he treated me. Though if you wish, I could give you a list of his other crimes against brotherhood. Is it so hard to imagine him as a bully to those who were younger and weaker than he?”

  Her gaze dropped to her brandy and she didn’t reply. He guessed that meant she recognized Edmund’s less saintly qualities.

  He sipped his drink. The brandy was smooth and expensive. “Now a question for you. Is Kellington Castle now your primary residence?”

  “Trying to get rid of me?” she said acidly.

  “The place would be a good deal more pleasant without you snarling like a wolverine and wishing me dead,” he retorted. “If you behave decently, I won’t ask you to leave, but I won’t have you treating Bree or Sarah badly.”

  She gasped. “You’d forbid me my family home?”

  “If necessary.” Seeing her expression, he smiled without humor. “If you wanted me to treat you well, you should have tried a little kindness when I was a boy.”

  “The trouble is that you looked so much like your mother,” the countess said unexpectedly. “She was too . . . too emotional. Impulsive. Underbred. Sometimes I thought she was a witch who’d cast a spell on your father to get him to marry her.”

  “What a novel perspective. Perhaps he thought she was warm and loving and a pleasure to be with.” Like Sarah. He continued, “But I didn’t come here to argue with you. I didn’t want this inheritance, but I intend to do my best to manage it properly. Assuming that the debts aren’t insurmountable, that is. Do you know if my father and brother managed to bleed Kellington dry before they died?”

  “Have you no respect?” she said furiously.

  “Respect must be earned. My father and brother gave me no reason to respect them.” He studied his grandmother’s lined face, a little surprised. “You I do respect. Though you treated me like a horrible mistake who didn’t belong in the family, you were fair with the servants and tenants. You also recognized that responsibilities come with rank. That’s probably why you’re here now.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” she said tartly. “You’re right. I have been spending more time at Kellington because a family member should be here regularly.”

  “And it wasn’t my father or brother. I rest my case in regard to their worthiness of respect. But you didn’t answer my previous question. Is the estate sunk in debt beyond redemption?”

  She hesitated. “The financial situation is . . . not ideal. Consult with Mr. Booth. He’ll know more.”

  “I’ve already written Booth. I expect I’ll get a reply soon, unless he’s been embezzling and disappears.”

  She scowled. “You have a poor opinion of people’s honesty.”

  “Being a Bow Street Runner can have that effect,” he agreed. “Though that’s reinforced by the fact that the Kellington steward, Buckley, has been embezzling for years.”

  “Surely not!” She slammed her brandy glass down on the table beside her. “He’s such a fine, courteous man.”

  “Courtesy has nothing to do with honesty. I made him return most of his ill-gotten gains and discharged him.” Weary of the conversation, he stood. “If you’re tempted to be rude to my daughter, bear in mind that she would be the legitimate Lady Bryony Carmichael if not for the interference of my father and Edmund.”

  His grandmother frowned, unable to refute his point. “I’ll be civil. But keep her out of my way.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be happy to avoid you.” He tilted his glass at his grandmother in a not entirely ironic salute and finished the brandy.

  As he took his leave, he reflected that this was the most civilized encounter he’d ever had with the Dowager Countess of Kellington.

  Chapter 23

  The letters Rob and Sarah sent from Kellington made their way across England by swift mail coach. The first arrived at Ralston Abbey the evening of the day it was sent. Eager for news, Adam had given orders for all letters to be brought to him immediately, but he wasn’t expecting a missive with “Kellington” franked across the corner.

  He frowned. That title belonged to Rob Carmichael’s older brother. Could something dreadful have happened to Rob and his brother was writing to inform Rob’s friends? That seemed unlikely from what he knew of Edmund Carmichael.

  Adam broke the wax seal and scanned the contents, his brows arching. Then he sought out his wife, who was reading in the nursery with their son in a cradle beside her.

  “Good news!” Adam announced. “Rob Carmichael has rescued Sarah and they’re back in England.”

  “Thank God!” Mariah’s expression turned incandescent. “Where is she?”

  “In Somerset, at Kellington Castle. Rob just inherited the Kellington earldom,” Adam said with interest. “I’ve been so busy down here I missed the news that his older brother died in an accident a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Just when Sarah was abducted and I was inefficiently delivering your heir.” Mariah bent and tenderly touched the tiny clenched fist of her sleeping son. “I think you can be forgiven being behind with the news this time.”

  Adam consulted the letter. “Rob says the kidnappers wanted to hold Sarah—or rather, you—for ransom. After he retrieved her, they sailed home. When they arrived in England, he learned of his inheritance, so he’s taking a bit of time to study the situation.”

  “Is there a note from Sarah?”

  “Yes, addressed to you.” Adam removed the smaller paper enclosed in Rob’s letter and handed it over.

  Mariah broke the seal eagerly, then frowned over the contents. “Her handwriting is too much like mine, which means it’s hard to read. Her tale is much more colorful than Rob’s. Apparently he extracted her from the middle of a house full of radicals and they were chased across Ireland, sleeping in barns and the like. I trust Rob is discreet? Sarah is the twin with the unblemished reputation, and it would be nice to see that preserved.”

  “Rob is so discreet that he doesn’t even tell himself what happened,” Adam assured her. “What else does Sarah say? She really is all right?” He hesitated, hating to put his fears into words. “She wasn’t assaulted by her captors?”

  “She assures me she’s fine, apart from bruises received when their yawl was wrecked on the Somerset coast during that big storm. Rob said nothing about that?”

  “His reports are generally just the facts.”

  Mariah held the letter next to the light so she could see the words better. “After their yawl was wrecked, they fetched up at his family estate and she told people on the estate that she and Rob were betrothed to make things simpler.” She frowned. “She doesn’t say they’re not betrothed. What does that mean?”

  She glanced at Adam questioningly. “I know Rob is one of your oldest friends, and he’s therefore fearless, honest, utterly reliable, and generally above reproach. But what kind of hu
sband would he make? This seems to have happened very quickly!”

  Adam grinned. “I can’t say I’ve ever considered Rob from a romantic point of view, but he’s a good fellow. As for quickness—the first time I saw your smiling face, you informed me that I was your husband, and it never occurred to me to doubt you.”

  “It made sense at the time,” Mariah said with a mischievous smile. “How long will Rob be in Somerset?”

  “I don’t know. He’ll have his hands full with Kellington. It’s said that the estate has been drained dry, which must be why he’s staying there for several days rather than bringing Sarah here right away. Can you bear not seeing her instantly?”

  Mariah bit her lip. “I won’t really relax until I see Sarah with my own eyes. Can we travel down there? It’s not that far. Less than a day’s journey.”

  Adam hesitated. “Are you strong enough? You were knocking at death’s door for several days.”

  “I’m almost recovered now,” Mariah assured him. “We’ll go in the extremely comfortable Ashton travel coach. It will be easy.”

  “Can you bear to leave Richard?”

  “He’ll come with me, of course. Sarah will want to see him.”

  “Very well,” Adam said, quelling his protective instincts. He couldn’t shut Mariah in a golden cage. “But if the journey is difficult for you, we’ll stop immediately.”

  “We’ll be fine.” Mariah picked up the baby and cuddled him. “Order the carriage for first thing in the morning while I write a note to my parents that Sarah is safe. I’m glad they’re in Hertford at my uncle Babcock’s rather than in Cumberland, so they’ll get the good news tomorrow.”

  Adam suspected that as soon as his in-laws received Mariah’s message, they would also race down to Kellington. Rob would hate being the center of so much attention. But he’d need to get used to it. A peer of the realm might be private by nature, but he must play a public role some of the time. Adam had learned to master the dual roles, and Rob would, too.