What a Reckless Rogue Needs (24 page)

Her expression showed disappointment. “You took nothing, Colin. I freely gave myself to you. Clearly you are having delayed remorse over what happened, but it is entirely unnecessary. What happened cannot be undone. There were no consequences, and I’m quite certain you were relieved when I informed you.”

“Angeline, I was only relieved because I had been irresponsible.”

“Your guilt is misplaced. There was no seduction. I agreed to all of it. If you are seeking absolution, I don’t have any to give you, because there is no fault on either side. We both knew exactly what we were doing. Now I recommend you let it go, because there is nothing else to be done about it.”

“You know there is,” he said. “I have a responsibility to you.”

“No, you do not. Now, if you will excuse me, the girls are waiting.”

“I will come with you. They are expecting me.”

“I’ll make your excuses,” she said.

“Why are you being so cold to me?” he whispered.

“This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. I will meet you in the library at two o’clock in the morning when servants aren’t about, and we can talk without listening ears.

“Now, I must go,” she said.

His jaw clenched as she hurried away. How the hell had his good intentions gone so wrong?

Angeline sat in her customary place at the table next to Colin. She’d cut up at him because she’d thought his words demeaning, but she knew he’d not meant them to be. He was a little late to be worrying about his careless behavior, but as she’d told him, she was a grown woman and there had been no seduction.

She didn’t want his good intentions or his guilt or his pity. She deserved nothing less than his respect. What had really troubled her was his remorse, because that night had been special to her, and he’d turned it into something that implied wrongdoing. Based on his words, she knew he didn’t understand, but late tonight, she would tell him how it had made her feel.

There was the other issue—the dangling proposal. Granted, Harry’s appearance had halted everything. But Colin probably was having second thoughts and felt he couldn’t honorably back out. So tonight she would tell him that he had no obligation to marry her. No, she would tell him late tonight that she felt it would not be in either of their best interests to marry.

“You are very quiet, Angeline,” Margaret said.

“Forgive me. My mind was elsewhere.”

She glanced at Colin. He’d barely touched his customary baked eggs. Now she felt badly, but she’d been honest with him.

She also felt guilty because she could turn everything around for her family if she married him. The trouble was she loved him, loved him more than he would ever know, and it would not be fair to him if she accepted his proposal. She and her family had much to gain from it, and when he’d first spoken of it, she’d had no qualms and believed that she would accept. But it was not based on those elements that she thought were important for a happy marriage.

She could not count on love developing for them the way it had for the marquess and Margaret. Colin might not know it, but he deserved to find love and happiness with a woman who did not come to the marriage with baggage.

As for Sommerall, she had a plan. It might not work, but she would ask on his behalf, though making the request might prove difficult to arrange. If she succeeded, she would ask that he never know about her interference. She would make this request for him, because she loved him and wanted his happiness more than her own.

Angeline read to the ladies while they applied their needles. When she’d made the request, everyone had agreed it was a splendid idea and made their sewing efforts far less tedious. She had Colin to thank for the suggestion, but she kept silent on that point.

“Ah, here is the place I marked where we left off,” Angeline said. “If everyone is ready, I will continue the story.”

“Please begin,” Margaret said.

Angeline read, “‘Marianne’s abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor’s.’”

“If Elinor and Marianne were twins, they would be equal,” Bernadette said.

Angeline continued on, and the girls questioned her about Marianne’s behavior. “The author tells us that Marianne is everything but prudent,” Angeline said. “So it is possible that she still has much to learn about life.”

Margaret’s eyes brightened. “Goodness, I wonder who might resemble Marianne.”

“The youngest sister’s name is Margaret,” Bernadette said.

Margaret continued stitching. “Yes, but the fictional Margaret is only thirteen years old, younger than my girls and Penny.”

“Is it a love story?” Penny asked.

“Oh, yes, very much,” Angeline said, “but like all good novels, there are difficulties and sometimes it will seem all is lost.”

“Is there a handsome gentleman?” Bianca asked.

“Yes, but he is not what he seems,” Angeline said.

“If he is cruel and wicked, I will not like him,” Penny said.

“Girls,” Margaret said, “do be silent so that Angeline can continue the story.”

“Oh, do read more,” Penny said. “I’m anxious to find out what happens.”

A footman entered with a tray of mail. Angeline had not responded to Charlotte’s letter because she feared creating havoc for her friend, but she found herself hoping for a letter nonetheless.

Margaret sorted through the letters and handed one to the duchess. “This one is addressed to you.”

The duchess broke the seal and gasped. “It is from my son,” she said, standing. “Lady Landale has been delivered of a healthy boy. Both mother and child are well.”

Everyone exclaimed.

Margaret rose to hug the duchess. “I am so happy for you. Your first grandchild.”

Angeline clasped Penny’s hand and smiled. “What do you think, Penny? We are aunts now.”

“Oh, I can hardly believe it,” Penny said. “Mama, have they named him yet?”

“He will be christened John. Oh, I cannot wait for Wycoff to return.” The duchess brought out a handkerchief. “It has been a long time since we’ve had happy news.”

Angeline forced herself to smile. Her mother had not meant to wound her. Angeline was simply a little sensitive today after her difficult conversation with Colin. Perhaps she was also a little out of sorts because she’d foolishly hoped for another letter from Charlotte. She ought to have known better. Charlotte had written the one letter in secret, because her husband had forbidden her to write to Angeline.

“Oh, Mama, when can we go see our new nephew?” Penny said.

“Very soon, I hope,” the duchess said. “I will have to consult with Wycoff, but this news will surely be all that he ever needed. A boy. I am so overjoyed.” She pressed the letter to her heart.

Angeline closed the novel and set it aside. She rose and leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Mama, I am so glad for all of our family. I am especially happy for you.” It was true, but it was also true that the news was a stark reminder that she might never be a bride or a mother.

“Thank you, dear,” the duchess said.

“I wish to compose a letter to my brother straightaway,” Angeline said. “Mama, Margaret, will you excuse me?”

“Of course, dear,” the duchess said. “I’m sure you’re bubbling over and wish to express it to your brother.”

“We will continue the novel tomorrow,” Angeline said. When she quit the drawing room, she squared her shoulders and walked up the stairs. Under no circumstances would she allow herself a drop of pity. She would not do anything to spoil this wonderful day for her family.

She bit her lip, walked quietly into the bedchamber, and sat at the corner desk. She removed a sheet of paper and found the ink and the quill. When she attempted to dip the quill in the ink, her hand shook. She set it in the holder and told herself that she only needed a few moments to gain her composure.

She drew in air and released it. She did it again. Once more, she retrieved the quill, but her fingers still trembled. She set it aside, stood, and crossed to the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress, and the bed ropes squeaked, reminding her of that horrible night she’d caught Brentmoor betraying her. Her hand shook as she covered her mouth. Then she pulled out the drawer and rummaged for a handkerchief. She blotted her eyes, blew her nose, and took another deep breath. Then she walked to the washstand, poured cold water into the bowl, and bathed her hot face.

It was foolish to feel sorry for herself, but she feared that she would never have a husband and family because of what had happened with Brentmoor. With a shaky sigh, she supposed she wasn’t the only woman in the world to indulge in a little self-pity. Of course she did not begrudge her brother and his wife. She was happy for them, and she was elated that the news had made her mother so happy. It was just that some days like today were made up of happiness for some and gray clouds for others. Sometimes it just seemed like a thunderstorm, and too overwhelming.

She had released the pent-up sorrow and felt a little abashed at her emotional reaction. But now she was done with it.

Angeline returned to the desk and managed to write a short letter expressing her heartfelt joy to her brother and his wife for the safe delivery of their son. She wrote that she was thrilled to be an aunt and could not wait until she could visit and hold little John. She wrote a few lines about the house party and the weather. Then she promised to write again soon.

She felt a little embarrassed that she’d shed tears when she was happy for her brother, his wife, and all of her family.

One hour later

Angeline sat in the chair applying her fan and looking out the window. A knock sounded at the door. Angeline thought it might be Penny, but when she answered, she found Margaret there.

“May I come in?” Margaret said.

“Yes, of course,” Angeline said. She was glad that she’d bathed her face earlier, so no one would see the telling sign of a red nose.

“Let us sit on the bed like young girls and talk,” Margaret said.

They both kicked off their slippers and crossed their legs on the mattress. Margaret eyed the handkerchief.

She’d failed to cover up well enough. “I expect you know that I became a bit of a watering pot after hearing my brother’s news.”

“I anticipated this would be difficult for you,” Margaret said. Her gaze flew to the desk. “Yet, you wrote the letter.”

“After I shed a few tears,” she said.

Margaret took her hands. “I knew you would manage to write that letter.”

“I actually felt better afterward.”

“When you allow yourself to be happy for someone else’s good fortune, it will someday be returned to you. Maybe not the way you imagined, but it will come.”

“I have been angry for so long,” she said.

“You are stronger than you know, but I also suspect that you put up a wall to protect yourself. It would be a natural reaction after what you have been through.”

She had not thought of it that way. Had she tried to push Colin away? “You are very wise,” Angeline said.

“It is only life experience,” Margaret said. “When I first married Chadwick, I was terrified. You are aware that it was a marriage of convenience. I was scared and furious with my father. I did not want to wed an aristocrat, much less a man who was twelve years my senior. Frankly, I thought Chadwick only wanted my fortune. I expected misery. That first night of our married life, he told me that because of me his heart had come back to life. I didn’t understand until he told me that his first wife had died. I fell in love on my wedding night.”

Angeline sighed. “I told Colin that you brought happiness and light into Chadwick’s life.”

Margaret smoothed the covers. “My biggest regret is Colin. I had very little confidence in those days, and I was young. I was also afraid of making a mistake, so of course I made even more. I didn’t know how to approach Colin. I feared that he would think I was trying to supplant his mother, and so I was too careful with him. He needed a mother’s love, but it was awkward. I think he resented me.”

“You had just married into an instant family. It would be difficult for anyone. But he does wish to spend more time with his family. I think that will bring all of you closer.”

Margaret smiled. “I feel certain that we have you to thank for it.”

“He would have come to that conclusion eventually,” Angeline said. “It just takes men longer.”

Margaret sighed. “Angeline, you have sustained an emotional wound. It is natural to want to protect your heart in such circumstances. If you keep the gates closed, you will manage to avoid pain and sorrow, but you will miss the best of what life has to offer. Love is what brings us joy. There is no other experience on this earth to equal it. If you love Colin, let him into your heart.” She rose. “It would give me great happiness to call you my daughter-in-law one day.”

“I fear we will have to settle for friends.”

Margaret smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I have a wager with Chadwick.”

“Do you? How intriguing,” Angeline said.

“You would not believe the fun you can have as a married woman. I very much want to win this wager, as I have my heart set on a ruby necklace.” Margaret wiggled her brows.

Angeline smiled. “What is the wager?”

“I’ll give you a hint. It has to do with love and family, and I might add I’m counting on you, Angeline.”

“You leave me in the dark,” she said.

“I think you will find the light.”

After Margaret left, Angeline sighed. Tonight she was meeting Colin in the library. She could have suggested an outdoor walk this afternoon, but those always ended up being a group affair, and there was no question that they needed to resolve matters. It seemed rather furtive, but given the lack of privacy, they had little choice. Even an early morning walk might draw others.

She was, however, feeling more than a little isolated and decided to go to the kitchen and try to train Hercules again. Angeline meant to invite the twins to join her, but she heard the sounds of the pianoforte and didn’t want to distract them from practicing. She figured the pug would enjoy some attention. They had not spent much time with Hercules this morning because of her confrontation with Colin.