Page 6 of Her Rogue to Ruin
She’d spoken more than three words to him and hadn’t burst into flames.
And she’d glimpsed a moment that reminded her that he was simply a man. One given to the humanness of anger and outbursts like anyone else. He’d given her a genuine smile too. That was something.
She decided then and there that she could be done with this silly preoccupation with Viscount Pemberton now.
Capable. Independent. So he’d called her and so she was.
Her focus needed to be on her work. Her future livelihood.
She vowed that the mere sight of Viscount Pemberton would not unsettle her any longer.
CHAPTER2
Two dayslater
“Is it settled?” Phin willed his friend to give him good news. “I don’t want to know everything. Only that we never have to worry about Mr. Russell ever again.”
“He took the money and vowed to cease his attempts to contact her.” Adrian, Lord Selkirk, settled back into the overstuffed chair in Phin’s study, a cut crystal snifter suspended between his fingers as he swirled the whiskey he’d poured himself.
“And?” Phin leaned forward in his own chair, unable to feel the ease his long-time friend always exuded. “What we most need is his silence, and no more of his damned letters.”
“He vowed his silence too.” Selkirk sipped at his liquor and shot Phin a suspiciously conflicted look. “To be honest, the man seems heartbroken.”
“Don’t,” Phin warned. “Don’t be drawn in by his skill at being gloomy. I suspect it’s what he used to play on my mother’s sympathies too.”
“Come now, Pemberton. It was more than sympathy between them.”
Phin shot up off his chair and headed over to the drinks cart to pour his own whisky. He’d wanted to remain clear and levelheaded for this meeting, but pondering what had been between Mr. Marcus Russell, Esquire and his mother left a bitter taste in his mouth. The man had been a solicitor involved in settling his late father’s estate, and he’d seduced Phin’s mother at one of the most vulnerable moments in her life.
“He attempted to blackmail me, Selkirk.”
“Oh, I’m not saying the man has any scruples. Just that there may have been something genuine between them.”
Phin had no illusions about his father. The man had been a controlling bastard and ugly when he was angry and in his cups. Even his younger sisters hadn’t escaped their father’s wrath. If Mr. Russell treated his mother with kindness, then Phin could understand why she gave into whatever appeal the man possessed. But once she’d ended their relationship, Russell had turned bitter. When his letters went unanswered, he’d sent one to Phin demanding payment to stop him from delivering details of their affair to a London tattle sheet writer.
Phin took his role as head of the family seriously, and protecting his mother and sisters from embarrassment and the harsh judgement of fashionable London society was paramount. Despite their father’s dalliances—noblemen were expected to indulge, after all—their family had built a reputation for respectability. And they needed to. Their viscountcy wasn’t as old and storied as some, so their father had been obsessed with his offsprings’ perfection—perfect looks, flawless behavior, and the most advantageous marriages.
The man had been competitive by nature, but Phin was forever grateful that his mother had been a loving, gentle antidote to their father’s domination. It was because of her that the Pemberton family had a reputation for being generous, jovial, and respectable.
He was determined that nothing should mar that reputation while he was head of the family.
“Have you spoken to her about it?” Selkirk asked in a low voice.
“No!” Phin closed his eyes, loathing that he’d shouted the word. Hating that his emotions were so difficult to manage of late.
Worry had frayed at his self-control. He fretted constantly—about maintaining his reputation among the noblemen of his acquaintance, his sisters and their future, his own pending marriage to a woman he hardly knew, and, of course, the ugly business with his mother and Mr. Russell.
“Forgive me. I’ve not been sleeping well of late. It’s making me churlish,” he admitted to his friend.
“Perhaps if you finally married, you’d—”
“That is not up for discussion.” Phin knew that Lady Mary Howard had been destined to be his bride since he was seven years old, but he’d only met the girl twice, and from all accounts, she had no more wish to marry him than he did to marry her. And yet their fathers had conspired to entangle their fates.
“Well, what about securing Mrs. Grove’s company. Perhaps you could sleep well in her bed. ” Selkirk shot Phin a mischievous smile. “You’ve written to her?”
“I have.” And that was the other dilemma weighing on his mind.
He’d been drawn into a challenge with several other noblemen who’d set their sights on Mrs. Evelyn Grove, a voluptuous widow who’d made it known she was in search of a new protector. One competitor, Lord Foxworthy, had reminded Phin of his father’s reputation for bedding lovely courtesans, and he’d found himself determined to win.
