Page 87 of Wicked Rivals
“May I have a word with you? Privately?” He nodded at the doorway he was standing in.
“But it’s private here. We are alone.” She knew enough of men not to go anywhere too secluded with one who was intoxicated and didn’t like her.
Charles shook his head. “In a house like this? No hallway is ever empty. Please.” He stepped back, allowing her to pass by him. Thankfully it was not a bedchamber, but a parlor.
Rosalind took a seat at a lacquered card table and Charles joined her. He set his glass down and nodded at the brandy. “Would you care for some?”
“No, thank you.”
She waited, unsure of what Charles wanted to say. Given what she’d overhead before dinner, she was unlikely to appreciate whatever would follow.
“I won’t beat about the bush, Lady Melbourne. I’ve had far too much to drink this evening, and it’s left me without my usual eloquence of speech. So I do beg your forgiveness.” Even as he said this, she didn’t miss the shrewd gleam in his eyes, something that told her he wasn’t as foxed as he wished her to believe. He was one of Ashton’s friends, after all. Ashton was a clever man and would only keep similar company.
“Please, speak what is on your mind, Lord Lonsdale.”
“You and Ashton are…” He waved a hand. “Well, you are at odds, aren’t you?” It wasn’t so much a question as an observation.
Rosalind tilted her head to one side. “If we are, what business is it of yours?” She didn’t ask this waspishly, but curiously, knowing what his answer would likely be.
“The man is more a brother to me than my own brother. I’d protect him with my life, from any threats. Andyouare posing a threat, Lady M. Quite a threat.” His eyes flicked up and down her body.
She bristled. “I’m not a threat. He’s a threat to me.”
Charles chuckled. “Because he holds the reins, eh? But we both know what a wild creature you are. I’d rather have you free than risk my friend by letting you remain captured. A polecat bites when cornered.”
He was comparing her to a polecat?
Rosalind met him with a level gaze. “Fortunate for you, my lord, that I’m able to maintain control of my temper and my claws. Now, what is it you wish to say?”
“You need funds to buy your freedom, do you not?” He folded his hands on the table, and despite the half-empty brandy bottle she noticed on the mantle behind him, she had a feeling his wits were quite sharp.
“Yes.”
“What if you were able to receive those funds? Would you walk away from Ashton and his marriage bargain?”
If Rosalind hadn’t been prepared, she would have let the sudden surprise flood through her. But thankfully she was able to bottle her reaction.
“Are you offering this out of charity? Or do you have some negotiations of your own in mind?” she asked.
“The only price for my buying your debts and seeing to your freedom would be that you never compete with him again. Walk away from any competing interests and bow out if he becomes involved in a bidding war with you. I want him to lose interest in the joy he finds in challenging you.”
Her instinct was to tell Charles to go to blazes, because she never took anything from anyone that she did not earn. Yet the gift of her freedom back was tempting…too tempting. As much as she wanted to accept, she knew she could not. It would still be another form of servitude by playing to his tune of when to bow out and leave Lennox unchallenged. Still, it was worth seeing how determined Charles was to play this game.
“I suppose you want this to be kept a secret from him if I were to accept?”
“If Ash ever asked me, I would deny it until my dying breath.”
“Why?” That was something she could not understand. “You know he means to control me and my property. Why would you, as one of his dearest friends, act in such a way as to prevent him from claiming what he desires?”
Charles reached for his glass and sipped, staring at her coolly. There was a hint of anger and a sliver of fear deep in his gray eyes. He didn’t know he’d revealed that, but it was there.
“Because he is acting the fool. He has some silly notion that he’ll be as happy as Godric, Lucien and Cedric, that he can buy you and in so doing buy your love. I know better than anyone that love is not a commodity that should be bought or sold.”
Rosalind shifted restlessly as she felt his intense scrutiny settle on her once more.
“Canyour love be bought?”
She stared at him. “It cannot. Love is something that is given. Sometimes it is earned, but it can never be bought. Affection, perhaps. Loyalty, certainly. But never love.”
