Page 38 of Married to the Rake

Chapter Fourteen

“You must take me for a fool, boy,” Brook’s father said, thrusting a finger in his direction over the dinner table.

“I am not at all certain what you mean,” Brook said nonchalantly.

His mother arched an eyebrow at them both but remained quiet, concentrating on her dinner. She had already heard all about the argument today but had wisely remained quiet on the matter. Though Brook was tempted to scold his father for his behavior, it would do no good.

He and Chloe had severely underestimated the anger both of their fathers held. He grimaced. He was sorry for getting Chloe involved in the matter now. She had looked on the verge of tears by the time they left, though she had done an outstanding job of standing up to their fathers.

“This outing today. I had wondered why you might want to visit town with your father. Now I know why. This is some misguided notion of getting me to talk to Marcus.”

Brook frowned and wondered whether he should try to lie. He should have known his father would see through the invite. If they were to spend time together, they were more likely to go hunting than take a drink in town.

“I had heard you spent time with that Larkin girl at the ball. Whatever hold she has over you, you would be wise to let it go.”

Brook glanced at his mother who simply shrugged. “A mere dance, Father. I have danced with many women. It means nothing.” The words felt like a bitter lie on his tongue.

His father jabbed a fork in his direction. “Stay away from her,” he warned. “All Larkins are the same. She will seduce you and use you, mark my words.”

Brook could not help but smile at the idea of Chloe using him. He would not mind the seduction, however, she was hardly the sort to do such a thing. If his father only knew Chloe, he was certain he would like her very much. God knows, Brook liked her an immense amount. So much so that he was thinking there might be another way to rectify the situation between the families.

“Son, I mean it.”

Brook did not bother to argue. There was no point when his father was in such a mood. If anything, this whole matter simply made him more determined to fix things between the families, especially seeing how upset Chloe was.

His mother cleverly managed to direct the conversation away from anything to do with today so that the rest of the evening was peaceful, though, his father tried to divert the conversation back to those ‘damned Larkins’ when he could.

Brook waited until both of his parents had retired to bed before heading out under the cover of darkness. In the distance, an owl hooted and a half-moon revealed itself behind the clouds in intermittent moments. A fresh breeze rustled the few trees around the house but it was not cold.

They had not discussed another meeting and he doubted Chloe had found time to leave him a message but this could not wait. He needed to speak with her urgently. He marched into the stables, managing not to disturb the groomsmen who slept in the accommodations above the small stables and saddled his horse.

Riding partway to her house, he left his horse tethered on the outskirts of the gardens to avoid detection by any servants still awake. “Be a good girl,” he told her, giving her a pat.

Chloe’s house was a square Tudor building. Generous in size with presumably an open courtyard in the center and the front door frames by a large stone entrance way. The gardens still maintained the organized look the Tudors favored, with straight lines of bushes segmenting the flower beds.

Lamplight shone in several of the windows on the upper story but the rest of the house was dark. He knew which bedroom Chloe’s was because she had mentioned views over the gardens. At least he hoped he was right or else he could cause even more trouble.

He launched a small stone at the window, satisfied when it made a loud ping noise. He waited a few moments and tried again. She could be asleep, he supposed, but he had his doubts after today’s events. He tried a third time and saw the curtains part and Chloe press her face against the glass. He gave her a wave and she eased open the window. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “It is too dangerous. Go away.” She fluttered a hand out of the window, shooing him away.

“I’m not going anywhere until you come down here,” he told her.

She hesitated, perhaps deciding whether she could persuade him to leave but apparently she realised she did not have a hope in hell of sending him away. She closed the window and he waited, tapping his foot until the sound of padded footsteps and a shadowy outline made him smile.

“You should not be here,” she whispered.

He took her hand, ignoring her words and began to lead her away from the house.

“Wait, where are we going? What are we doing?” She tugged on his hand.

“You said I should not be here.”

“Yes,you. I should be here. In fact, I should be in bed.”

“We need to talk about today.” He glanced back at her, noting that she was still in her nightwear, which was wrapped in an awkwardly tied gown. Even though the night was dark, the white fabric revealed her outline like a ghost haunting the night. It made his palms itch when he considered that there was probably very little between her skin and the night air. But, for now, he needed to keep his thoughts away from such matters. They would not help his cause at all.

“Brook, where are we going?” she pressed.

“Somewhere we can talk.”

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