Page 42 of Rose and the Rogue
Then again, perhaps Poppy St. George was not his problem after all. The previous evening, she’d turned from kitten to dragon the moment she realized that they’d been talking longer than planned. Carlos immediately told her that it wasn’t intentional (he’d completely lost track of time and in fact had no idea that they’d moved quite far away from where Adrian and Rosalind had gone). But Poppy clearly considered it a nefarious plot and rushed back to her cousin. Carlos could barely keep up with her—who knew a woman wearing an evening gown could even move that fast?
When he and Adrian left the women in the gardens, he didn’t look back at her. Either Poppy would be looking at him with those searing eyes, which would unnerve him…or she would not be, which would shatter his ego.
Just then, Adrian entered the room, still in his dressing gown, looking very much like he hadn’t slept. Behind him, a servant entered, bearing a silver tray loaded down with yet more silver, including a large coffeepot. Carlos realized he hadn’t eaten or drank anything yet, and his stomach growled loudly enough for the others to hear.
“Breakfast for both of us, then,” Adrian told the servant.
“Yes, milord.” The servant put the tray down and slipped away.
Adrian poured coffee for Carlos, and then another for himself. “God, I need this.”
Carlos agreed wordlessly, taking a sip. Adrian always had excellent coffee at his houses (indeed, he had excellent everything).
“How did you sleep?” Adrian asked.
“Better than you did, I’m guessing.”
“Lot on my mind,” his friend muttered. “Rose mentioned her parents don’t like me much.”
“Shocking, that.”
“My own reputation is one thing—I’ll talk them around on that. I’m more concerned about the other suitors with less honorable intentions.”
“Less honorable than yours? Protecting the girl from men like Evans is all well and good. But nothing about meeting Rosalind in Vauxhall Gardens and getting her alone is very protective.”
“I’m going to marry her.”
“Excuse me?” Carlos asked. If Adrian had announced he was abdicating his title and walking to India to live at an ashram for the rest of his life, that would be less surprising than what he just said.
“Rosalind Blake is going to be the next Viscountess Norbury.”
“Did you have her alone longer than I thought?”
“Jesus Christ, I didn’t seduce her last night.” Adrian looked annoyed, then his expression shifted to something Carlos had never seen on his face before. “I want her. I mean, I want to have her in my life.”
“And your family and the ton and all those judging little magpies who write gossip in the newspapers will accept her as a viscountess?”
“Why not?”
Carlos sighed and held up one hand. He put up a finger for every objection. “She has no title herself. She’s not particularly wealthy. She has no land. She’s blind. And she’s the subject of one of the nastiest wagers I can remember.”
Adrian held up his own hand. “She’s intelligent. She’s talented. She’s beautiful. She’s honest. And she makes me happy whenever I see her.”
“Well, that’s a good list in my view, but I was talking about society, which is not as open-minded as I am. And you’re the one who has to live with the consequences.”
“No, society has to live with my reality,” Adrian retorted, sounding very much like the aristocrat he was. “But before I ask to marry her, I want to get this whole issue with the wager sorted out. I’m not having Rose plagued by any scandal on her wedding day.”
“The problem of Rosalind Blake’s would-be ruiners can be solved very simply,” said Carlos. “If it were up to me, I’d just arrange it so that one or two of them turned up naked and bound with rope in some public square with a rose jammed into their mouth…well, the others would get the idea quickly enough.”
Adrian voted that idea down, unfortunately, saying that it was too violent and would draw even more attention.
“Do it right, and it won’t,” Carlos countered.
“We’re in England. We have to be subtle.”
“Fine, we can grab Evans and the whole list and drop them into the Thames. No one will ever find them, and anyone else involved in the whole mess will quietly walk away.”
“That’s not subtle.”
