What a Reckless Rogue Needs Part 39
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Doubtless he planned it that way and probably has a disgusting perversion for exposing himself with any unfortunate female he tricks. There are many who have taken a disgust of Brentmoor, but they hesitate to publicly denounce him because they do not wish to be involved.
However, as my mother said, anyone with a conscience will lend support to a cause when someone, particularly a mistreated lady, is maligned. In order to clear Lady A's name, it will be necessary to gather as many gentlemen and ladies who are willing to support her and her family. I cannot a.s.sure you that the plan to restore her reputation will work, but I do believe it is worth the effort. Bellingham is standing at the ready. His influence will make an enormous difference. Send word when you intend to travel to London.
P.S. For what it is worth, my mother suggests marriage to a wealthy and t.i.tled gentleman would do the trick, but you know females always think marriage is the answer to all of life's problems.
Colin blew out his breath. Now he knew it was worse than he'd expected, but he was determined to vindicate her honor and see Brentmoor brought to his knees.
He opened the next letter, which was considerably shorter and to the point. Colin would have recognized Bellingham's style anywhere.
Colin, To put it bluntly, Brentmoor is no better than a sewer rat. It infuriates me to know that an innocent lady has been vilified by those who ought to know better. For now, it is necessary to concentrate on turning the tide for Lady A.
I wish to be there the day you blacken Brentmoor's eyes and break his nose. Harry has given me the particulars about how this happened. I am startled that Wycoff should fall for Brentmoor's lies, but I understand the fiend is like a charismatic snake and has fleeced more than one man out of his money with tales of his underserved misfortune at the hands of his sire. He has also demanded money from the fathers of ladies he's meddled with, and most have paid to keep him from ruining their daughter's reputations. I've investigated the man's activities and discovered he has more than a few victims. Clearly it is for the good of all society to expose this man for his evil schemes. You may count on my support. I a.s.sure you I have more than a few friends and acquaintances who will stand behind Lady A.
P.S. Laura suggests you marry the lady posthaste and says you will be much happier once you are a married man. Do forgive me for including her opinions, but she insisted. Laura is with child again and frankly not always rational. I have found it best just to agree.
Colin counted himself a lucky man to have loyal friends. He huffed remembering Angeline's horrified reaction to the story of how he and Harry met Bellingham. They'd had some amusing times at White's last spring.
A tap sounded at the door. Colin answered and was more than a little surprised to see his father. "Come in."
"Thank you. I see you've been reading your letters."
"Did you need something, Father?"
"No, but I'm fairly certain your friends wrote to you with news about Brentmoor and advice about Lady Angeline."
He sighed. "Have a seat."
"Your expression leads me to believe it's even worse than you thought."
"Read the letters. You'll see the details. I warn you, it's bad."
His father removed his spectacles from his inner coat pocket and read both letters without comment. "It comes as no surprise that there have been other victims. Obviously, Brentmoor is adept at winning over the sympathies of others and then taking advantage at just the right moment."
"He has to be stopped," Colin said. "No lady should be treated in such a revolting manner."
"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 h.e.l.ls 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 G.o.d willing, she would consent to marry him and become Lady Ravens.h.i.+re. 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 G.o.d 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."
"G.o.d 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s. "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."
"Botched it, I suppose."
He nodded. "How amenable do you think Wycoff would be?"
"Well, he might try to shoot you, but he's a worse shot than I am. The odds are in your favor."
"Ah, that is rea.s.suring," Colin said.
The marquess sighed. "I think the most significant question is whether Lady Angeline is receptive to your proposal. I know the two of you have been in one another's pockets, but we both know she has endured a rough time. I've no doubt she will come about and be the toast of the ton once again. But marrying and partic.i.p.ating in the London season may be too much for her all at once. I don't know. Margaret and the d.u.c.h.ess would have you rush to the altar. However, you know Lady Angeline better than anybody, and I think the two of you are especially fortunate that you have had the opportunity to really know one another before the marriage."
"It was purposeful," he said. "She suggested it."
"Do you love her?"
He swallowed. "Very much."
"And?"
"We've had a spat or two, but to our credit we reconcile well enough."
"Ah, yes, reconciliation." The marquess rose, walked around his desk, and clapped Colin's shoulder. "I can't think of a better wife for you, son. No doubt the two of you will have many spats, reconcile frequently, and present me with my first grandchild within nine months."
Colin laughed. "Thank you, Father."
"Do you plan to journey to London next week?"
"Yes."
"Your friends are prepared and the plan is solid?"
"Yes, everything is in order."
"Son, I'm rather fond of you, though I'm not certain why."
Colin laughed.
"I will give you a bit of advice. Beat the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l out of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but don't kill him. His foul blood isn't worth having on your hands. When it's over, have him hauled off to a press-gang. He'll wish he were dead and that's punishment enough."
Colin nodded. "Thank you, Father."
"Take every precaution, son. You have a beautiful young woman who will be waiting anxiously for your return and so will I. Finish this nasty business once and for all. Then we will celebrate upon your return. While you're in London, you might consider purchasing a special license."
Colin nodded. "I appreciate all of your advice, particularly the reminder for the special license. I would very much like to wed her upon my return."
"You might propose first," the marquess said.
"Yes, on bended knee this time."
"Do I want to hear about the other time?"
Colin shook his head. "Probably not."
"I love you, son. Go defend her honor, and then come home in one piece. I'll see what I can do about finding you a property."
That evening The marquess did his neighborly duty and invited Reverend Quimby and his wife to dinner. Mrs. Quimby once again regaled everyone with minute descriptions of Harwell, Baron Overton's property. Angeline politely conversed with the reverend, but she was anxious. Her father had announced they would stay an additional week at Deerfield and gave no other explanation. Earlier this afternoon, her father, the marquess, and Colin had gone into the study. They had remained there for several hours. Angeline was very concerned. She feared that Colin would challenge Brentmoor to a duel. All afternoon, she had waited for an opportunity to speak to Colin, but she'd ended up reading to the ladies while they st.i.tched this afternoon, and there had been no chance to have a private conversation with Colin. She was anxious and hoped that they would be able to talk in the drawing room, because she needed rea.s.surance that he would not duel.
When dinner ended, the ladies withdrew to the drawing room for tea and st.i.tching. Penny played "Robin Adair" and the twins sang. For once, Angeline focused on st.i.tching, hoping to evade a "coze" with Mrs. Quimby.
"Lady Angeline, you have been especially quiet this evening," Mrs. Quimby said.
"My thoughts have been elsewhere, Mrs. Quimby. Do forgive me. How are you and all of your family?"
"We are all happy and well. Reverend Quimby received a letter from Baron Overton a few days ago."
"Ah, letters are always welcome." Angeline exchanged a smile with Margaret. Clearly Mrs. Quimby was ready to launch into her favorite topic.
"Of course, all is prospering at Harwell House," Mrs. Quimby said. "I am only sorry that the reverend and I missed Baron Overton's dinner party. But I have the letter here. It will only take a moment to find it in my reticule."
Angeline met her mother's resigned gaze. She hoped there was only one letter.
"Ah, here it is," Mrs. Quimby said, smoothing out the paper. "Yes, Baron Overton writes that he was gratified to invite the most ill.u.s.trious guests who are new to the neighborhood, Lord and Lady Brentmoor." She paused. "Are you acquainted with the family, Lady Angeline?"
Angeline hesitated for a moment, and then she pulled the embroidery thread. Mrs. Quimby could not have known that the mention in the letter would cause great consternation.
Margaret had a gift for maneuvering guests who overstepped the bounds. "Mrs. Quimby, do you have friends or relations near Baron Overton?"
"Unfortunately, no. If I did, I a.s.sure you, I would be in raptures. The thought of Mr. Quimby and me in the same neighborhood as Baron Overton is one I sometimes entertain."
"How delightful," Margaret said.
Now that Margaret had distracted Mrs. Quimby, Angeline released a sigh of relief.
"We will journey there at the end of the month. I do hope to make the acquaintance of Lord and Lady Brentmoor. I have heard she is a great beauty," Mrs. Quimby said. "Is that true, d.u.c.h.ess?"
"I do not consider beauty a recommendation for making acquaintances," the d.u.c.h.ess said. "Character is the important factor."
What a Reckless Rogue Needs Part 39
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What a Reckless Rogue Needs Part 39 summary
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