Page 29 of The Rogue’s Offer

“I wasn’t aware smiling was a requirement for escorting you into the wolf’s den.” He heard the harsh note in his voice, and she leaned forward in a quick movement to touch his hand. The moment her fingers brushed against his, electricity zigzagged its way through his blood.

“Whatever is the matter with you this evening, and why are you suggesting you led me into the wolf’s den? If you’re referring to the earl, I’d hardly call the man a wolf.”

“Don’t tell me you’re that naïve, Ophelia.”

“For heaven’s sake, I’m not in danger of losing my heart to the man.”

“The man has perhaps lost his to you.” At his response, she quickly jerked away from him as if he’d bitten her. The sudden image of nibbling her neck swept through him as he studied her from the shadows of his seat.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The man asked if we had an understanding, and when I said no, he mentioned his mother is encouraging him to marry, and you’re the first woman he’s met that he’s been willing to consider for the role of the next Countess of Chelmsford.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Ophelia shook her head vigorously. “The earl was pleasant company at dinner, but the man did nothing that suggested he was so infatuated as to propose marriage. And we both know how I would respond to such a proposal.”

“Chelmsford’s annual worth is nothing to dismiss so easily, Ophelia.”

“Money can never be a substitute for my freedom to do as I please.”

“You sound remarkably sure of that position.”

“Question my resolve all you wish, but I will not change my position in the matter. And compared to the earl, you are acting exceedingly unpleasant,” she snapped with irritation. “I was thoroughly enjoying myself this evening until you decided to be a curmudgeon.”

Mathias frowned as he contemplated her words. He was being unpleasant, and he didn’t have the slightest inkling as why he was being such an ass. A cackling erupted deep in the recesses of his brain, but he quickly crushed the sound and the notion that accompanied it. Instead of arguing with her more, he chose to remain silent.

The remainder of the ride to the Markham affair was filled with a tension Mathias knew he’d instigated, but didn’t know how to resolve. Another laugh echoed in the back of his head, but he stifled the sound as quickly as he had the first time. When the carriage rolled to a halt, he exited the vehicle then offered his hand to Ophelia.

She accepted his assistance, but once she was out of the carriage, she quickly pulled her hand from his and left his side without a backward glance. With a quiet noise of anger he followed her into the brightly lit Markham House. By the time he’d handed off his hat to one of the footmen at the entrance, Ophelia had already been joined by Merrick and Viscount Margate, as well as another gentleman he recognized as Thomas Wilford. The sight of her surrounded by men who were clearly infatuated with her only served to irritate him all the more.

Margate offered Ophelia his arm as he said something that made Merrick glower at the nobleman. Ophelia hesitated slightly and glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze met his for a brief moment, and a look of bewildered hesitancy crossed her features. It vanished quickly as she returned her attention to Margate and nodded at something the man said. A second later, she entwined her arm with the viscount’s and allowed him to lead her into the ballroom. Merrick scowled after them before following along like a puppy unwilling to be left behind.

As Mathias watched the trio enter the ballroom, he experienced the need to be in the boxing ring at his club. Following at a discreet distance, he entered the ballroom to see Ophelia surrounded by a growing crowd of suitors. Instead of joining them to lay claim to her company, Mathias moved to stand next to one of the four columns situated at each corner of the room. One shoulder pressed into the marble pillar, he watched as Chelmsford joined the group circling Ophelia.

The tableau made him bite down on the inside of his cheek as he remembered another woman surrounded by a group of eager suitors. The past quickly rolled over him, and his body tightened at the painful humiliation Miriam had inflicted on him.

With hair the pale gold color of hay just before it was cut, and blue eyes that could incite a man’s lust just by staring into them, Miriam had been beautiful. She still held the reputation as one of the professional beauties the painter Frank Miles had captured on canvas beginning with Lillie Langtry. Miriam had had a bevy of suitors vying for her attention and had turned down several marriage proposals. He should have known better when she’d allowed him to call on her.

Despite his best intentions not to, he’d become enamored with her just as other men who sought her attention had. The fact that she’d rejected proposals from titled men as well as merchants had made Mathias believe she was holding out for love. It was why he’d dared to think he might be able to win her heart.

Over a period of several months, they’d become the couple every hostess in the Marlborough Set sought to add to their guest lists. Mathias had been on the verge of proposing when he’d learned the real reason Miriam had appeared to have chosen him above all others.

As if it were yesterday the memory of Miriam lying naked in his brother’s bed filled him with the same fury he’d experience that night. His rage had been so fierce he’d almost dragged the woman out of Thornbury House to leave her on the street in the state of déshabille he’d found her.

Miriam had been after a title all along, and not just an ordinary title. She’d been determined to marry a title with great wealth. Charles was the prize she’d set her sight on, and she had exploited Mathias to achieve her goal. Just as it had that night, a brutal anger lashed at every part of him as he remembered the evening’s events.

He’d left Charles and his friends at the club, knowing his brother would no doubt spend the night there as he was already foxed. When he’d arrived home, Baxter had met him at the front door and notified him there was a young woman waiting for Charles in the drawing room.

Normally the butler would never have admitted the woman into the house, but it had been raining, and Baxter had believed no harm would be done to let her wait in the salon. When their unexpected guest was nowhere to be found, Mathias had come to the conclusion the woman was intent on trapping Charles into marriage.

With the butler in tow, Mathias had entered his brother’s room expecting to oust an impoverished ingénue attempting to move up the social ladder. Instead he’d been privy to the decadent sight of Miriam lying in wait for his brother. The woman had even made arrangements for her father to arrive after a pre-arranged time demanding to know where his daughter was. It had been a pointless exercise on the man’s part as Mathias had already tossed Miriam out of Thornbury House.

Miriam’s plan might well have worked if Charles had been the one who’d come home instead of Mathias. While his brother was rarely drunk, that night had been one of those rare occasions. Another situation Miriam had arranged as well by enlisting several suitors to encourage Charles to imbibe a great deal of wine then send him home quite inebriated.

He had no idea what story the woman had used to accomplish her goal, but if not for several of Charles’s friends who’d arrived at the club, his brother might have actually fallen into Miriam’s well-laid trap. That night had been a turning point for Mathias. He’d already been looking after his brother’s business affairs for some time, but Miriam’s treachery had made him vigilant in protecting his brother from any scandal as well. The sudden pressure of a strong male hand grasping his shoulder made him jerk in surprise as the images of the past receded.

“Good God, man, you look as though you wanted to rip something…or someone apart.” Percy Rockwood chuckled as Mathias met his friend’s gaze. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were ready to have a go at Chelmsford in the ring.”

“As usual, you exaggerate, Rockwood.”