Page 6 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
Drew saw Mary’s father lean and say something in his wife’s ear. She smiled at him, shook her head, then kissed his cheek.
They were all affectionate. Every couple. He was looking at his idea of utopia. Of course it could be false. But if it were real…
If it were true then there was no doubt about his choice. If Miss Marlow was as capable of constancy as the other women in her family, why would he choose another? She was his plan.
After tonight, they would wrap her up and keep her away from him. But never mind, he could take his time, his need for her dowry was not desperate, he had a little more credit he could call on, and he wanted what the Pembrokes had. Commitment. Constancy. Even affection. Perhaps, he would have all of that with Mary.
‘Are you ready to retire?’ Peter’s hand settled on Drew’s shoulder.
He also had a friend with generous pockets.
‘Yes.’ Drew looked at his friends, Peter, Harry and Mark, his brothers… His family. ‘Did you fare better than I?’
‘The richest of us did,’ Mark quipped. ‘The man who does not need it.’
‘I won back your losses and more,’ Peter clarified. ‘So, I say that earns us a drink and a pretty bird of paradise each.’
‘I’ll take the drink, but I shall pass on the whore.’ The thought of lying with any woman other than the one he’d chosen to be his wife was abhorrent.
‘Then I shall have yours as well as mine,’ Harry joked.
As they walked out of the ballroom, Drew asked Peter, ‘What do you know of the Pembroke sisters and their daughters…?’
* * *
Mary was sitting on her bed, with her knees bent up and hugged in her arms. Her bare toes peeped from beneath her nightgown. Her mother had dismissed the maid and helped Mary undress.
‘Mama, why did you choose to marry Papa?’
She was placing Mary’s earbobs into their box. She turned. ‘Why do you ask?’
Because a particular gentleman’s hazel eyes hovered in her mind, along with the lilt of his smile.
There you have me. Perhaps I am not a gentleman…
That, her brother John had told her father, and her father had told her.Lord Framlington is a fortune hunter. A rake. Avoid him.
Judge me by the man you see…he had said.
‘When I met your father…’ her mother sat on the bed, ‘our eyes met across a table and I just knew he was right for me.’ Her skin had pinked with a blush.
‘Do you think I will know?’
‘I hope you will. I hope you find a man who will love you with all his heart.’
Lord Framlington’s eyes, his face, returned to her mind. There was something fascinating about him. He was different to any other man who had spoken to her.
‘You have been quiet tonight; did you not enjoy the evening?’
Mary smiled. ‘I enjoyed myself.’
‘Come along then, jump into bed and let me tuck you in.’
‘I am too old to be tucked into bed.’
‘You will never be too old,’ her mother teased.
After she got into bed, her mother kissed her cheek, then tucked the sheet tightly beneath the mattress. ‘Sleep well. I love you, Mary.’ Her cold fingertips touched Mary’s cheek.
