Page 56 of The Rogue’s Offer

“But, my lady…you’ll require someone to handle various aspects of financial transactions,” the man sputtered.

“I’ll find another solicitor to assist me, Mr. Smythe. I have no intention of using the services of a man who thinks me incapable of managing my finances. A skill I’ve learned quite well since my husband’s death and the pauper’s funds I’ve received annually since that time.”

“I don’t understand, my lady.” Smythe continued to protest. “Lord Havenstock told me himself that he was more than willing to provide you funds from the monies he controlled and all you need do was to ask.”

“I’m sure he did,” Ophelia said coldly and her mouth tightened with anger. “I’ll bid you good day, sir, and thank you for your assistance in restoring my control over my money.”

The man stared at her in disbelief as his mouth flopped open like a dead fish. For a moment, Ophelia almost laughed at his expression before she remembered his disdain. She narrowed her gaze at him, and the man’s features clouded with angry contempt.

“As you wish, my lady. I only hope you don’t fall victim to a solicitor whose character will cost you a great deal of your financial holdings.”

Ophelia didn’t answer him. She merely tipped her head in the direction of the hall and front door. Still outraged, the man turned and stalked his way out of the parlor muttering about the female sex and their incapacity to manage their own finances. The man disappeared from the room, and seconds later she heard the front door open and close behind the man.

Slowly sinking down into the chair at the secretaire, Ophelia stared at the papers in front of her. What in heaven’s name had possessed Edgar to change his mind? The day he’d attacked her in the parlor, he’d made it quite clear he would restore her monies to her only if she became his mistress.

Bile rose in her throat at the thought as she remembered the way he’d slumped to the floor when she’d hit him with the clock. She knew her stepson well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason. Did he assume she was left with little choice but to accept his offer? The thought made her stomach roil.

Confused and worried by her stepson’s behavior, Ophelia touched the papers in front of her. Despite her trepidation the documents beneath her fingertips were real. A rush of elation sped through her. For the first time in her life she was truly independent.

She could finally pay Mrs. Barstow and Taggert the back wages they’d insisted they didn’t need. Lizzie would have a wonderful new trousseau with a lovely wedding. There would be money to restore Marymont to its former beauty. There was also no longer a need to worry about her father offering her or Lizzie in marriage in exchange for the payment of his debts.

And the first thing she would do was repay Mathias the monies he’d paid Madame Sabine on her behalf. An image of Mathias’s handsome features fluttered through her head, but she pushed it aside. Her gaze fell back on the documents Smythe had delivered.

The monies George had left her were quite substantial if she was reading the paperwork correctly. Although she still couldn’t fathom a reason for Edgar’s sudden change of heart, she refused to question it. Nonetheless, she needed to acquire the services of a reputable solicitor quickly to ensure Edgar hadn’t laid a trap of some form or another. Why had he suddenly been willing to relinquish his control over her? There was no logic to it at all unless someone had intervened—Mathias.

Her heart skipped a beat. Had Mathias forced Edgar’s hand about her finances? He’d been infuriated when he’d learned the amount of her stipend. But why would he have bothered to interfere when they’d parted company so unpleasantly?

Hope swept through her. Were Louisa and Constance right? Was it possible Mathias actually cared for her? She closed her eyes as she suddenly realized what such a possibility meant if it was true. If Mathias did have feelings for her, he would want something more than her love. Despite his roguish manner at the start of their bargain, she’d come to see him as an honorable man.

Something deep inside said he’d insist on the permanent state of marriage, and that she couldn’t do. Even if Mathias declared his love for her, it would be impossible for her to give up her freedom. She could never surrender her independence to a man again no matter how much she loved him, and she loved Mathias with every part of her being.

Even if he pledged never to restrict her freedom or not. It wasn’t possible for her to take such a leap of faith. Her love was all she could give—nothing more. A devastating hopelessness wrapped its cold arms around Ophelia as she shuddered and closed her eyes. A tear forced its way past her closed eyelid and rolled down her cheek.

How could she have done something so foolish as fallen in love with Mathias? The reality of her situation caused a tight, invisible band to wrap itself around her chest. It made it difficult to breathe, and she gasped softly at the physical pain it invoked. Another tear rolled down her cheek as she accepted the truth. It left her bereft of all hope, and with a sob of anguish, she buried her face in her hands to cry for a love and passion that would never be.