Page 25 of The Rogue’s Offer

“You’re a beast for saying such a thing.”

“But an honest one no less,” he teased as he kissed her hand again, and his gaze met hers. “I’ll bring a horse for you when I come in the morning.”

“What time?”

“Eight o’clock. We’ll avoid the masses who are interested only in being seen.”

“Thank you. I prefer avoiding the crowds.”

“Until tomorrow,” he said quietly as he released her hand and returned to the carriage. He paused briefly at the door of the vehicle to look back. The door to the townhouse was already closing behind Ophelia, and he launched himself into the carriage. With a sharp command for Jacobs to take him home, Mathias reclined back in his seat determined to ignore the disappointment he was experiencing now that she was no longer in his presence.

§ § §

Ophelia heard the soft sound of the front doorbell in her room and turned back toward them mirror to study her appearance. She winced slightly as she remembered the bill that had accompanied her new clothes. While the charge had been much smaller than she’d expected, it would take several months to pay off the account.

A wave of anger rolled over her at the necessity to curtail expenditures for the next six months. George had to have known the size of her annual stipend would barely cover normal living expenses. It made her wonder if he’d thought to continue his abasement of her by forcing her to deal with Edgar’s advances. Despite the stipulations of her late husband’s will, she’d learned how to economize and gone without to ensure Lizzie was dressed well.

She’d managed to make the few evening gowns she owned look new by adding different lace or making other alterations so it appeared she had new dresses. That they were sedate in nature had allowed her to remain quiet and obscure in the background wherever she chaperoned Lizzie.

Now, as she studied herself in the standing mirror, she marveled at how different she looked in the new riding habit she’d bought from Madame Sabine. It was a rich, dark red that softened her features. The riding habit was a clear example of why the dressmaker’s talent was worth every bit of coin she charged. It was impossible to deny the amount of feminine pleasure it gave her when she wore one of her new gowns.

A sudden surge of confidence sped through her as she studied her appearance. It was an emotion she’d not felt since she had married George. Unwilling to appear too eager or hesitant to greet Mathias, she made one more adjustment to the black hat that matched the braided trim on her habit. Satisfied with her appearance, she dragged in a deep breath and proceeded to make her way downstairs.

As much as she tried to slow her pace, she found it difficult to do so. She tried to tell herself that her eagerness was simply because she’d not ridden for some time. But in the back of her head, a small voice chided her for the lie. The sound of Lizzie’s laughter made her relax slightly.

It was unlikely her father was awake at this hour, but if he was, her sister would prove a sufficient buffer between the baron and Mathias. At the foot of the stairs Mathias’s voice echoed out into the foyer. The sound of it sent a frisson skimming across her skin. She faltered slightly at the physical sensation, and trepidation made her stomach lurch. If she wasn’t careful, she might actually find her heart in danger.

With a barely audible sound of irony, she dismissed the thought. Such a thing wasn’t possible. Feeling passion was beyond her grasp, which meant she was incapable of falling in love with Mathias. Somewhere in the back of her mind a mocking laugh taunted her as she walked into the parlor.

Lizzie was sitting on the settee drinking her morning cup of tea, but it was Mathias her gaze settled on. He looked devastating this morning in his black riding coat, tan breeches and shiny black boots. His attention was on Lizzie, but almost as if he could hear the frantic beat of her heart, he turned his head toward her. The smile he directed at her only increased the rate of her agitated pulse.

Suddenly breathless, she fought to control her breathing as she moved forward. Mathias crossed the floor to meet her and lifted her hand to his lips. The fire flashing in his eyes made Ophelia’s cheeks burn as she realized she enjoyed the way he looked at her. It was an unusual sensation. No man had ever made her feel so self-conscious in such a pleasant manner as Mathias did. Throughout her marriage, she’d tried hard to fade into the background to avoid being the butt of George’s cruel remarks.

It was the difference between night and day when Mathias spoke her name or looked at her. Was it possible he was right? Could it be she merely lacked confidence when it came to experiencing true passion? It contradicted everything she’d just dismissed as impossible a moment ago. Unwilling to contemplate the possibility, she greeted Mathias with a smile.

“Good morning,” she said softly. His mouth lingered over her hand as he studied her intently and with what she thought was appreciation.

“If possible, you look even more enchanting this morning than you did last night.”

“Another lesson in how to accept a compliment?” she murmured all too aware of her sister’s avid interest. Her amusement was greeted with a look of surprise before Mathias shook his head and grinned.

“It was an honest observation, but since you’ve broached the subject, I believe a reply is required.”

“Thank you.” Her quiet reply sparked a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he bent his head toward her slightly.

“A circumspect response given our present company.”

“Whatever are the two of you whispering about,” Lizzie huffed with exasperation, clearly irritated that she was unable to hear their conversation. Mathias turned toward her sister and grinned with boyish charm.

“I was saying how lovely Ophelia looked, and she was attempting to disagree.”

“She does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” Lizzie said with a genuine smile of delight. “Whatever inspiration Mrs. Smithers has acquired, I think it’s splendid.”

“Mrs. Smithers?” The look of puzzlement on Mathias’ face made Ophelia’s heart skip a beat.

“Our dressmaker,” she said as she lightly touched his arm. “A subject few men find fascinating. However, I believe horses are a different matter.”

“I’ll not argue the point,” he said as his gaze narrowed to study her a speculative manner. “And since you’ve mentioned the subject, why don’t I show you the horse I’ve selected for you.”