Page 16 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“Precisely the opposite. She married Father when his prospects were far from illustrious. He was a second son, brash and brave—as Mum has said, a bold young man with scarcely a shilling to his name. But that did not stop her from spurning some high-and-mighty earl to become his bride. And much to her own father’s discontent, I might add.”
“Yer father is a lucky man.”
Jon waved away the thought. “These days, he’s turned into a character straight out of Dickens.”
“He is contemplating his legacy. That’s plain to see.”
Jon regarded him for a long moment. “Caldwell, when did you become a philosopher?”
“I am a man of many talents.” Finn took another drink. “And ye, my friend, should pay little heed to yer father’s insistence on a title yer sister does not want.”
Jon took another drink. “Someday, this quest will be done, and I won’t have to witness the scenes she concocts to scare off the heiress hunters, as she calls them. From one day to another, I don’t know what she’s going to do next.”
Finn bit back a smile. “Heiress hunters, eh?” He’d have described the shameless money-hungry blokes in far cruder terms.
“Prince Bloody Charming himself could court her, and she’d have no interest. Not that I can fault her.” Jon shoved a hand through his hair. “Beyond that, she doesn’t care one whit about propriety. She won’t even wear a blasted bustle. No, Macie insists onsensibledress. God above, that travesty she wore last night—a gown commissioned from the most esteemed dressmaker in the city—was enough to stir the biddies to talk.”
“It... it wasn’t so bad.” Finn struggled for a charitable description.
“She could’ve garbed herself in one of the sheets draping the furniture at the old house for far less money.” Jon scowled into his glass. “That might have been an improvement.”
“Ye must admit, the gown was modest.”
“If you had not been there to keep her from taking that spill last night, I can only imagine the scene. She would’ve strolled out of there, drenched in a fine vintage from Lady Drayton’s wine cellar.” Jon drummed his fingers against the table in an agitated rhythm. “Just one blasted week without Macie conjuring some disaster or other to set the gossips into a frenzy, whether contrived or purely by chance. That’s all I want.”
“Ye’re not her keeper.”
“That would be easier to believe if my sister’s nickname was notCalamity.”
“I must say it does fit, especially given her grace and poise,” Finn said with an ill-advised smile.
Jon shot him a glare. “You’re enjoying my pain too bloody much.”
“It’s one of my few pleasures these days. I tell ye, being a reformed rogue is not easy.”
“And now, a situation has arisen.” Jon stared down at his whisky. “I’ve been called away from London.”
“That’s not unusual.”
Jon lifted his glass and took a drink. “But this time, Macie is here. In the city. And she has no desire to leave.”
“That’s not to be unexpected. Yer sister is a woman, capable of making her own way for a time. And she’s not alone. I presume Miss Blake will remain in the city as her companion while ye’re away.”
“Companion?” Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Partner in crime might be a more accurate description. Nell Blake is nearly as a much of a free spirit as Macie.”
“They can share their misadventures,” Finn said, employing an optimist’s tone. “If ye have concerns, have yer father call her home.”
“I’ve already sent a telegram.” Jon slowly shook his head. “He insists she stay.”
“No doubt to continue the husband hunt.”
Jon nodded. “He intends to use Bennington Manor to motivate her to make a suitable match. He’ll fund the restoration of the house. But in return, he expects to see a wedding ring on her finger by the end of the year. If she returns home now—or if she creates a scandal his money cannot overcome—he’s not inclined to ‘toss good coin after bad.’”
Bloody hell.The thought of Macie’s father using the house she cherished as leverage set Finn’s back teeth on edge. “Ye’re serious?”
“He only wants what’s best for Macie.”
“And ye believe that?”
