Page 2 of The Winter Rogue
Oh.She gritted her teeth, still smiling.Charlene hated being told what she couldn't do.She got enough of that from her parents, and she certainly didn't need anyone else telling her she couldn't do something.
She fisted her little hands at her sides in her skirts.“I can go anywhere I want.”
Drew scoffed, his expression harsh.“Not dressed like that, you can't.”
“I can, too.I can do anything you three can do, and in a gown.”She jutted out her chin in pure defiance.
“You can’t even waltz better than me, or so our dancing master told your mother last time he was here.”
Her face scrunched up in fury.“That’s—”
“You can't come with us.”He cut her off.“It's not safe for little girls.Right Freddie?Billy?”Drew insisted as he folded his arms across his chest.His friends stood mute neither agreeing nor disagreeing with him.
“I am not a little girl.I am a young lady, and I am telling you I can do it.”She hesitated a moment.“Whatever it is you are doing.”
“Absolutely not.”Drew pressed on, and then a little sparkle appeared in his blue eyes.“You're not welcome—Charlie.”
Fury punched through her chest at his use of that nickname she hated.
She wasnota boy.She was a girl, and she liked girl things…it was just that she also liked to do boy things sometimes.Drew had called Charlie that one day and she'd instantly hated it.The only problem was, she had not been particularly good at hiding her displeasure, and once he had noticed, he'd started calling her that all the time, especially when he wanted to drive her away.
Charlene was tired of it.She balled up her little fist, just like she'd seen her two older brothers do before they went off to school, stepped forward, and swung.She punched Drew right in the gut, and he bent over double, completely winded.“I hate you, Andrew Wentworth!”
She whirled around and ran off as she heard the other boys giving Drew a hard time about being punched by a girl.Not that it mattered.
Running around to the side of the house, where a pretty gazebo was situated in a rose garden which smelled lovely, Charlene dropped down and cried as she mourned the loss of her first love.
In her own way, she had loved Drew.But now that she'd punched him, she also knew he would be even more determined to stay away from her—and if he didn't, she would make sure he did.
She didn't want him to apologize.She wanted him to leave her alone so her heart would stop hurting.
Charlene never wanted to see him again.
Chapter One
November 1861
Charlenewatchedthecarriagesbarrel past the large bay window in her parent's drawing room.They were moving at a brisk pace.Perhaps even fast enough that if she threw herself in front of one, she would be killed—or at least badly maimed.It seemed as though that would be her only way to escape the eternal rambling of her fiancé.
Perhaps she was being extreme—just a bit.
She sighed softly under her breath but it wasn’t as though Alastair Peterson, the Earl of Fenwick, would have noticed anyway.He was so self-absorbed, she wasn't quite sure why he even needed a wife.He did enough preening and self-congratulating, Charlene wasn't sure what a wife would do for him.At least, by her mother's standards.The man undoubtedly had a full staff to cater to his every need, so a wife certainly wouldn't run his household.And as handsome as he was—and he was handsome, with his raven's wing hair and dark gray eyes—he would never lack for female companionship.So what did that leave a wife to do for him?
Ah yes, the role of broodmare.That could be the only thing he hasn't been able to achieve in his life on his own.
Charlene reasoned that if he took a mistress and got her with child, Fenwick could claim the illegitimate child—but then the child would be of dubious lineage which, based on everything she knew about the very controlling and precise man, simply would not do.Not at all.
Besides, she was sure he wanted the standard heir and a spare.Never mind that he was playing roulette with Mother Nature.Though she never gambled, she knew enough to know the single rule: the house always won.
“So, Charlene dear, we shall go to the theater on Wednesday night so I can button up this deal with Mr.Hough, who—for some ridiculous reason—brought his wife on a bloody business trip.”Fenwick sounded annoyed as he cut into her own musings.
“I beg your pardon?I'm afraid I have plans for Wednesday evening.”Charlene sat up straighter in her seat as he pulled her out of her maudlin thoughts and back into her harsh reality.
He waved a hand vaguely.“Cancel them.I'll need you in attendance.”
She stared, incredulous at his complete dismissal of her own schedule.“Impossible.It is the first ball the Duchess of Norfolk has ever thrown.She is my closest friend and I promised her months ago that I would attend.”Charlene hesitated, but knew her father would be displeased if she was anything but gracious to Lord Fenwick, despite her repeated objections to this arranged marriage.“Of course, I wish to assist.I would be happy to have your business associate added to the guest list and then you could attend with me.”
Fenwick stared for a long uncomfortable moment, his gray eyes seemed almost flinty.“Absolutely not.We shall attend the theater as I planned.Inform your friend you are unable to attend.”
