Page 55 of The Rogue’s Offer

Determined not to act the fool, she swallowed hard and looked first at Louisa and then Constance before her gaze focused on Louisa again. The expression on both their faces alarmed her. They truly believed Mathias—she immediately stopped the thought from completing itself. Louisa leaned forward.

“You didn’t answer Constance, Ophelia. Are you in love with Mathias?” The resolve in Louisa’s voice said she wouldn’t leave without an answer. Her throat tight with emotion, she shook her head.

“No. I’m not,” she lied firmly. Louisa’s expression made it clear she didn’t believe her. Desperately Ophelia struggled to hide her feelings from her childhood friend. The light touch of Constance’s hand on her arm made Ophelia jerk.

“I’m sorry we broached the subject with you, Ophelia. Will you forgive our reckless impudence?”

“Oh course. I’m grateful Mathias and I have friends who care so deeply about our happiness.” She was amazed at how serene her voice sounded when inside she was frantically fighting the urge to race up to her bedroom and hide from the world.

“We should go,” Constance said quietly as she rose to her feet.

Louisa looked at her sister for a moment then nodded. Constance moved to hug Ophelia, and Louisa followed suit. The young widow pressed her cheek against Ophelia’s and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t let the horror of a bad marriage prevent you from finding happiness now, dearest. I know you love him. I can see it in your eyes.”

Ophelia flinched at her friend’s words. As if sensing her bemused state, Louisa smiled reassuringly at her as she released Ophelia from the warm hug. Forcing a smile to her lips, she escorted her friends to the front door. Constance paused in the open doorway and kissed Ophelia’s cheek.

“Lucien and I will look for you and Lord Chelmsford this evening at the Sherringtons.”

All too aware of how shaky her voice would be if she spoke, Ophelia remained silent. Instead, she forced a smile to her lips and nodded as if she was looking forward to the event. With a small chorus of farewells the sisters left the house, and Ophelia closed the door behind them. The instant she was alone, she sagged against the door and pressed her forehead against the wood.

How could she have been so foolish? She should never have made her bargain with Mathias. No. Her first mistake had been to offer herself in exchange for Marymont. But desperation made people do foolish things, and she was no different. Her real folly was that she’d given her heart to him. It was the most foolish thing she’d ever done. It explained why she’d entered his bed without hesitation.

Ophelia pushed herself away from the door and made her way back into the parlor. Slowly sinking down into the nearest chair she leaned back and closed her eyes. What if Louisa and Constance were correct? Was it really possible Mathias had deep feelings for her? No, she couldn’t allow herself to even consider the possibility. Ever since the day Edgar attacked her, Mathias had sent a daily note. After opening the first one, she’d thrown all the others away.

The chime of the front doorbell echoed into the salon, and she jerked upright in the chair. She heard Taggert open the front door, and a male voice drifted through the air. Mathias. A jolt of anticipation followed by fear spiraled through her, and she quickly rose to her feet. The sight of Taggert in the salon doorway with a short man behind made her heart sink.

“A Mr. Smythe to see you, my lady.”

The butler stepped aside to allow the man to step into the parlor. Ophelia frowned as she recognized George’s and now Edgar’s, solicitor. Smythe moved toward her with an obsequious smile on his face.

“My lady, such a pleasure to see you again. I do hope you’re well.” Smythe’s voice was filled with ingratiating warmth. She tightened her lips at the man’s lascivious gaze. The solicitor had always made her feel uncomfortable, and today was no different.

“Mr. Smythe. Your arrival is quite unexpected.”

Her cool greeting made the man frown slightly, and he glanced at the sofa as if expecting her to ask him to sit down. She had no intention of doing so. The man cleared his throat as he realized she had no intention of inviting him to stay long. With a slight frown of irritation, the solicitor pulled a brief case from under his arm. With a nod toward the secretaire, he gestured to the case.

“If I may, my lady, I’ve brought documents for you to sign.”

“What sort of documents?”

“Lord Havenstock has informed me that he is releasing control of all the monies and investments his father left for you in his will. He instructed me to deliver the necessary paperwork for your signature.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ophelia stared at the solicitor in amazement. “Edgar is giving me control of the monies my husband left me?”

“Yes, my lady.” Smythe shook his head in disapproval as he laid several papers on the lid of the secretaire. “I did try to convince Lord Havenstock to maintain a small interest in your financial affairs as few women have a strong sense of business, but he was quite insistent that full control of your assets be returned to you.”

“Everything?” Still stunned she ignored the man’s disparaging opinion as to a woman’s intelligence.

“Yes, my lady. Of course, properties and certain funds that are part of the entailment belong to his lordship, but he is relinquishing all control of everything left to you by the late Lord Havenstock.” The solicitor gestured to papers he’d spread out on the small desk. “If you would, my lady. I require several signatures that will allow you to handle future transactions. Naturally, I assume you’ll require my services to help guide you in the direction and care of your finances.”

Ophelia moved forward to sign the documents. With each stroke of the pen, she felt a heavy weight begin to fall off her shoulders. It was a tangible sensation. When Smythe began to gather the documents she raised her hand to stop him.

“You may leave the papers with me, Mr. Smythe.”

“But my lady, I’ll need to keep these in a safe place. I’ll require access to them to attend to any matters that need attention.”

“Your involvement in my financial matters are no longer required, Mr. Smythe.”