Page 3 of Married to the Rake

“Now that we have escaped, can you tell us why on earth you are so uncomfortable around that man?” Joanna asked.

Chloe glanced between both of her friends. She did not mind speaking on family matters and she trusted both of these women but it was a long, ridiculous tale. She hooked her arm into both of theirs and led them over to Regent’s Park, just opposite the bookshop. There, they could sit and hopefully avoid Mr. Waverley as he exited the bookshop. She grimaced to herself. She had not even managed to purchase her books and now she would have nothing to read until she returned to the country.

Sinking onto the bench, she waited until Joanna and Grace were settled and gave a light cough. “That was Mr. Waverley. Of the Waverley’s of Pembroke.”

“Ah. I have heard of Mr. Waverley. Talk of his attractiveness was not wrong.” Joanna gave a sly smile.

Augusta leaned forward. “There is also talk of him being quite the rake.”

“It is true,” said Chloe. “He is all of that and more.”

Joanna eyed her. “Is that why you wish to avoid him?”

Chloe snorted. “I’m not scared of a rake. I know I have nothing that might appeal to a rake.”

“That is not—”

Chloe waved a hand at Augusta. She was sweet and kind and thought the best of everyone—even blasted Henry. But Chloe did not need flattery right now. She knew full well Mr. Waverley would never be interested in someone like her. He preferred the exotic types and confident widows like Joanna. In fact, she was surprised Joanna had not been approached by him instead. If he knew Joanna was newly widowed, he would surely offer a shoulder to cry on.

“The Waverleys are our neighbors,” Chloe explained. “It is an extremely long story but to put it briefly—the Waverleys hate us and we hate the Waverleys.”

“Hate?” Augusta echoed. “That seems an awfully strong word.”

Chloe lifted her shoulders. “I believe we have hated them since around the thirteenth century. And every few decades we get into another argument about something else. The Waverleys are utterly unreasonable.”

“Hated them since the thirteenth century?” Augusta shook her head. “That seems an awfully long time to hold onto a grudge.”

“Ah, but my family will tell you it is no grudge. There is a boundary dispute between the families and the Waverleys will not concede even though we are right.”

“You are certain of that?” asked Joanna.

Chloe nodded. “I have seen the records. Though I do not think it was always the boundary line that was the issue. A great, great, great great-grandfather at some point did something and we have never agreed with them on anything since.”

“Well, if he is as much of a rake and as disagreeable as you say, it is best we avoid him altogether,” Augusta declared. “He is certainly not the sort of man a young woman wants to be seen around.”

Chloe nodded. She would be happy if she never saw him again. Now if only she could forget how he had touched her and how strange it had felt.

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