Page 23 of Any Rogue Will Do
If her father had a connection to the Earl of Danby, one could assume that he’d look upon their match with favor. The stab of jealousy wasn’t unexpected. Ethan wasn’t good enough for his daughter, but somehow Montague—with a reputation that was nothing short of infamous—passed muster for the earl.
On top of that injustice, most women found the man appealing. Montague might be a scoundrel, but he was a handsome scoundrel. They would make a beautiful pair, with Lady Charlotte’s dark beauty acting as the perfect foil for her golden partner. Even Cal looked—well, normal—in comparison to Montague. When had the other man earned the title of suitor? Without thinking, Ethan blurted, “You can’t add Montague tae your husband list.”
That he’d mishandled the situation became clear when she stiffened and shot him a glare. “Of all the presumptuous, rude…” She gaped as if struggling for words.
Damn. Trying to lighten the mood, he said, “Is ‘rude’ the best you can come up with? You disappoint me, Lady Charlotte.”
Teasing banter wouldn’t soothe her ire. “What makes you think you have a voice in my ‘husband list,’ as you call it? For all you know, Mr. Montague already made an offer and has been accepted by my father.”
“Has he?” Please, no.
“You miss the point, my lord. That’s none of your business.”
That wasn’t a no. “You’re right, it’s not. I only say something because Montague is not a man you want tae saddle yourself with for life. I don’ want tae dirty your ears with details—” This ride had been going so well, and now the morning was shot to hell.
Her short laugh couldn’t be mistaken for amusement. “This from the likes of you? Might I remind you of our conversation not three minutes ago? If his character is so vile, I deserve to know the charges against him.”
“In plain terms, the man lives on credit. He rarely greets a morning sober or with the same female companion. In fact, I’d bet he wasn’t entirely sober when you met him.”
“You know this to be fact?” she challenged.
“His reputation speaks for itself, Lady Charlotte—”
“So does yours, my lord,” she snapped.
He winced. There was no defending that. “You deserve better.”
With a deliberate look, she perused him from the top of his head to his dirty boots, then back up to his eyes. “Yes, I do.”
Without waiting for him, she spurred her mount to a canter in the opposite direction, and moments later a groom passed Ethan, giving him a quizzical glance.
“Damn it.”
***
“You have a letter,” Agatha said.
Lottie looked up from her book. “I wonder if Father finally found a moment to write.” Yes, that busy schedule of drinking port and reading in his library.
Fine, that wasn’t fair. He’d been coming out of his decline these last few months, trying to do more with the estate—which was why she’d been ousted to London for a husband hunt.
Mr. Montague might be sending more poetry, but that was unlikely, since he was due any minute for a drive in the park. He’d visited every day since the picnic, but she’d managed to delay another outing until today. Perhaps he’d written to cancel their plans? Hope sprung eternal.
During yesterday’s call he’d mentioned being lucky to marry for love, and she’d nearly gagged. That made her decision easier. Lottie would tell him the engagement was off—not that it had ever been on—during their time today. Father wouldn’t be happy, but if Father liked the man so much, he could marry him.
Lord Amesbury had disappeared after their disastrous ride a week ago. Not that she’d looked for a light in his window every night since. It was merely an observation.
“It does not resemble the earl’s hand.” Agatha handed over the letter.
The precise handwriting was familiar. “This is from Rogers, the steward. I wonder if today’s post has a letter for Darling. That would make her happy.”
“Who would be writing your maid? One would think she would be a social outcast after her time as the town’s feather mattress.”
The term made Lottie grit her teeth. “That’s an awful turn of phrase, Godmother. To answer your question, she and Patrick have exchanged letters during his recovery. I think there may be a budding romance in our midst.”
“Do you encourage relationships between servants? It could make the workplace awkward. Considering that workplace is your home, I would discourage such a thing.”
“I think they’d be a good match,” Lottie mused. “After all, it’s been several years since Darling’s husband died.”
