Page 2 of A Rogue to Resist
“That’s the price of being a wealthy, beautiful young widow,” Rosabel said pragmatically. “And when one’s late husband’s title has passed to a mysterious bachelor who’s spent years abroad, with no one quite certain what manner of man he’s become…”
She shrugged eloquently.
“I care nothing for his pastimes,” Katherine said firmly. “The man may indulge in whatever vices he chooses. My life and his need not intersect in any meaningful way.”
“Is that so?” Rosabel’s voice held a note that immediately set Katherine on edge.
“What do you know that I don’t?” she asked, suddenly wary.
Rosabel glanced around the room, which was becoming increasingly crowded as more of London’s elite arrived for the Duchess of Pemberton’s afternoon tea.
“This isn’t the place,” she murmured. “Let’s find somewhere quieter.”
An uncomfortable tingle of apprehension crept up Katherine’s spine as she followed her sister-in-law through the elegant crush of silks and satins. Rosabel led them to a small alcove partially concealed by a large arrangement of hothouse flowers, offering the illusion of privacy in the busy room.
“What is it?” Katherine asked once they were settled.
Rosabel hesitated, uncharacteristically uncertain. “James received a letter this morning.”
“From?”
“The new Lord Greythorne.”
Katherine’s stomach tightened. “What could he possibly want with my brother?”
“Not with James, precisely.” Rosabel met her eyes directly. “With you.”
The teacup nearly slipped from Katherine’s fingers. “Me? Whatever for?”
“Estate matters, apparently.” Rosabel’s expression grew concerned. “Katherine, didn’t your solicitor mention there would be certain affairs to settle once the new earl took possession?”
“Mr. Blackstone indicated there might be a few signatures required, nothing more.” Katherine set her cup down on a nearby table with exaggerated care. “He assured me my settlement was secure and independent of the entailed property.”
“And so it is,” Rosabel hastened to assure her. “But there appear to be complications.”
“Complications,” Katherine echoed flatly.
Katherine’s brother had made sure she would gain ownership of Willow Park upon her husband’s death—her sanctuary, her independence made manifest.
Technically, Willow Park was part of the larger estate, but clear markers surrounded it. If the new Lord Greythorne wished to consult her on the running of the larger estate, she would certainly make herself available, but she had a feeling he wished to dispute her claim to Willow Park—the fields of which were highly profitable, being that they were the only fields her dissolute husband had allowed her to control.
Those western fields represented more than mere acreage; they were her lifeline to independence. Without them, she would be reduced from comfortable autonomy to genteel poverty,dependent once again on her brother’s charity rather than her own careful management.
Rosabel’s words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.
“Lord Greythorne has requested a meeting. With you. To discuss certain aspects of the estate that apparently require joint resolution.”
“How convenient for him,” Katherine said, unable to keep the edge from her voice. “And I suppose this meeting cannot be conducted through our respective solicitors?”
Rosabel’s grimace was answer enough. “He was most insistent that the matters be addressed directly.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Rosabel winced slightly at Katherine’s incredulous expression. “At Wexford House. James insisted the meeting take place under our roof rather than at Greythorne House.”
“Tomorrow?” Katherine’s voice rose slightly before she caught herself, glancing around to ensure they hadn’t attracted attention. “How extraordinarily presumptuous.”
“He mentioned something about returning to his country estate by week’s end,” Rosabel explained. “Apparently, he’s only in London long enough to settle the most pressing business.”
