Page 9 of Married to the Rake

“Miss Larkin?”

“Very well,” she bit out.

“Pardon?”

“I said very well. I shall do what I must to mend this matter. Though, I do not know what you intend to do. How can we remedy centuries of discord between our parents?”

Mr. Waverley put his feet on the fence then vaulted over, landing as easily on the other side. For some reason, the movement left her a little breathless. She took a few more steps backward but he closed the gap between them with his long strides.

“As I said, Miss Larkin, with your brains we cannot fail to succeed.”

“I fear you rather overestimate my intellect”

“Not at all. I know you sneak away from balls to read books. If one can spend so much time reading books, one surely must have vast intellect.”

She peered at him. How did he know this about her? Last time they’d been in the same room together had been a long time ago. It seemed odd to her that he had noticed such a thing.

“So how do we do this?” she asked.

“I have been pondering the matter, and I think it would be beneficial to get our fathers in the same room together.”

Chloe shook her head rapidly. “It shall be a bloodbath, surely?”

“When was the last time they even looked at each other?”

She pursed her lips. She could not recall. Their hatred for one another had always been lived out from afar.

“My hope is,” he continued, “that when they are in the same room as each other, in a setting where they must only be civil, they might find some common ground.”

“They have common ground,” she murmured. She stomped her foot on the grass. “This common ground. It has caused so many problems, it is ridiculous.”

“Well, it will be a start. With you and I there to manage the matters, I am certain something good will come of this.”

Why he was so positive, she did not know. She supposed that was one of the benefits of being a wellborn, attractive man. Very few things prevented him from getting what he wanted. As a curvy woman with unruly hair and an inability to charm others, she was more used to things going the wrong way.

“I fear you are being optimistic, but I shall do what I must. How should we bring them together?”

“You know Mr. Benedict, do you not?”

She nodded. “His estate is some four miles from here.”

“Mr. Benedict does love to host a ball. I am thinking we can persuade him to hold one and invite both of our fathers. Though, we shall have to ensure that no news of either’s attendance reaches their ears.”

“It shall not be easy to keep it a secret. Gossip runs rife in Hampshire.”

“While you may think me optimistic, I think you underestimate yourself, Miss Larkin. I have every faith that you shall be able to keep our plans a secret.” He thrust out a hand and she stared at it. “Shake it,” he ordered. “And so begins our arrangement.”

She stared at his hand for a few more seconds. Not once had she ever shaken a man’s hand. That was something gentleman did. Not young ladies. Regardless, she inched out her own hand and let it rest in his. He curled his fingers around hers and moved his arm up and down, taking hers with it. When he released her fingers, that strange tingling sensation was back and she could feel it yet again sweep up to her cheeks. He withdrew his hand and flexed his fingers, his penetrating eyes dashing over her.

“I shall let you get back to your dinner party. But as soon as the ball is arranged, I shall send word.”

Chloe nodded numbly, rubbing the fingers that he had held with her other hand. She found she could not move until he vaulted back over the fence and turned away. Why did she just feel as though she had made a deal with the devil? With all these supposed brains, one would think she would be more sensible than to get into an arrangement with Mr. Waverley. Still, if this meant no more late-night trips to the fence, it would be worth it.

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