Page 27 of Married to the Rake

Chapter Ten

“Will you cease looking at me so?”

Brook’s expression remained neutral. His father laid down his newspaper and glowered at him. “I have had enough of your mother looking at me like that, I do not need it from you too.” His father waved a hand. “Do you not have something to do? Some ladies to charm perhaps?”

Brook nearly snorted. He had not charmed a lady in weeks, not since he started plotting with Chloe. He did not think she was charmed so she certainly did not count.

“Perhaps I’m simply enjoying your company, Father.” He sank onto the chair next to his father’s which faced the fireplace in the study. There was no fire as it was too warm but they had a habit of convening there whenever he was home and mulling over the world or sometimes simply sitting in silence. Though he preferred the hubbub of London, he did relish the moments with his father. He hoped for many more of them.

It would not happen if they did not bring an end to this disagreement between the families as soon as possible. Even in his father’s current state, he was still demanding people go and check the border and letting himself get far too angry about the matter.

The problem was, he had not come up with anything new as yet. If they could not arrange a simple walk, what else could they do?

Brook allowed himself a small smile. At least it meant he could keep exchanging letters with Chloe. All her time spent with her nose in books meant she was a talented wordsmith and there was something quite delightful about parrying words with her, even through the form of the written word. If someone had told him he would enjoy letter writing a few months ago, he would have laughed in their face. But, then, there was little to entertain in the countryside so he had to get it where he could find it.

He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. He and Chloe needed to meet again soon. He hoped at least the midnight meetings ensured they would never be caught. A rake he might be, the last thing he wanted to do was harm Chloe.

“I am tired, Brook,” his father said on a heavy breath.

“Shall I take you upstairs?” Brook began to rise from the chair but his father indicated for him to sit.

“That is not what I meant. I’m tired of people treating me as though I am in my grave. This little…event”—he waved a hand—”may have knocked the wind from me for a little while but it is not the end of me, Brook.” His father jabbed a finger in his direction. “Trust me on this, it is not the end of me.”

“No one thinks that it is—” Brook began.

“That’s a damned lie,” his father spat. “Even my solicitor wanted to discuss my will, should anything happen. I told that bastard I am happy with it the way it is.”

“Father…”

“Promise me you will stop feeling sorry for me,” he ordered. “Even if these are my last days—which they are not—I would want us to behave as we have always done. None of this pandering to me and tiptoeing around. You hear me, lad? I will have no more of it.”

Brook chuckled. “Very well. If that is what you wish.”

“It is what I wish.” His father thumped a fist down on the arm of his chair. “Now get your rear out of this house and go do something interesting. You and I both know this is the most amount of time you have ever spent here without doing anything. I insist you go and find some lovely ladies to charm or a friend to have a drink with.”

“Perhaps I do not wish to have a drink, Father. Have you thought of that? And there are few ladies in the area to charm.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Well, perhaps I have already charmed them all and there are none left.”

“That sounds about right.” His father gave an amused snort. “Well, whatever you do, make it interesting.”

Brook rose from the chair. “As you wish, Father. Should I get into any trouble, I shall blame you thoroughly.”

“Good. I should like to be the cause of some trouble.”

Chuckling to himself, Brook left the study, though he hardly had an inkling of an idea as to what he was going to do. He could visit Benedict but the man was still thoroughly in love with his wife and Brook always felt like he was encroaching. Several of his friends were in London and many others in Bath. He had intended to join them were it not for his father’s illness. He had somehow expected to reunite the two families within a matter of weeks and be done with it then he could be off celebrating with friends.

He had to admit to himself it was a rather foolish thought to think that centuries of hate between the two families could be healed within weeks.

Dressing for the outdoors, Brook ambled outside. His mother was out visiting and it was times like this he regretted not having a sibling or two. This was one of the main reasons he did not much enjoy spending a lot of time in Hampshire—there was simply not enough entertainment. He imagined Chloe would beg to differ and scold him for being childish.

With that thought in mind, he cut through the rock garden, following the path that sliced between the carefully curated plants until he exited the other end. Once there, another path meandered up a slope for a while before leading to the edge of the formal land. Now he was onto the wild fields that would take him to the river…and the fence.

He should not even be bothering. He’d only left her a letter yesterday and he doubted she’d found time to reply so quickly but at least it was something to do. Maybe…just maybe she would be there. Gads, what had happened to him? Chasing after a piece of skirt for no more than a letter?

Despite feeling a fool, he made his way to the fence to find no letter and no sign of Chloe. As he had expected. It did not mean his heart did not sink. Leaning briefly against the fence, he rested his jaw upon his hands. What should he do now?

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