Page 58 of The Rogue’s Offer

“You were meddling. You deliberately mentioned…”

Constance’s words trailed off into silence as if suddenly remembering Mathias was within ear shot. Her gaze shifted in his direction, and she tipped her head to one side as she studied him intently for a brief moment before sighing quietly.

“What’s happened between you and Ophelia? I know she’s positively miserable about whatever argument the two of you had.”

Mathias’s jaw tightened as he scowled at Constance. He wasn’t about to reveal how he’d betrayed Ophelia’s trust and been responsible for her stepson’s belief her favors were for sale.

“That’s between Ophelia and me,” he snapped. Unruffled at his brusque response, Constance returned his glare.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s up to you to fix it.”

“It is an irreparable situation,” he said with the bitterness that had already taken root inside him. With a final glare at the siblings, Mathias spun about and strode toward the exit.

Damn the Rockwoods to hell. It was now quite obvious Percy and Constance had meddled in his affairs, and most assuredly under Charles’s guidance. Unlike other times when his friends meddled in affairs of the heart, the situation between him and Ophelia had not ended happily. In fact, if not for Chelmsford’s timely arrival on the patio it would have been a debacle beyond his comprehension

Tonight he’d narrowly escaped a humiliation that would have far outweighed anything he’d experienced at Miriam’s hand. His feelings for Ophelia were of a far greater substance and depth than anything he’d ever felt for Miriam. As much as he hated the earl at the moment, he was grateful the man had appeared on the terrace when he did.

It had saved him the embarrassment of acting like a love-sick schoolboy. Ophelia would have been as scathing in her rejection as Miriam had been the night Mathias had found her in Charles’s bed. He should never have allowed Charles and Percy to convince him to come here tonight. The best thing to do at the moment was leave. He wasn’t about to cause a scene and allow Ophelia to even think his behavior could be attributed to her refusal to see him. He’d verbally eviscerate Percy in the near future. As for Charles, he was certain he would most likely come to blows with his brother.

A strong hand gripped his arm and tugged him to a halt. With a vicious sound of fury, he spun around expecting to see Percy with more advice. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with the Earl of Lyndham. His surprise didn’t last long as he glanced over Lucien’s shoulder to see Percy and his sister watching them. At the moment, he was too angry to be pleasant, and he eyed the man with antipathy.

“What do you want, Lyndham?”

“I’m simply passing on a message,” Lucien said with a look of startled puzzlement as he released his grip on Mathias’s arm. “Your brother asked me to have you meet him in Meacham’s library,”

“What the devil would he be doing in the library?” Mathias scowled at the man in front of him.

“Something about Meacham and a special brandy the man is reluctant to put in the smoking room. Apparently our host is reserving it for special guests.”

The earl’s explanation made Mathias give the other man an abrupt nod before he turned and continued to make his way out of the ballroom. For the briefest of moments, he thought about stopping to see where Ophelia was in the room then crushed the temptation.

From this moment forward, he would obliterate every thought of her whenever one dared to enter his head. He would wipe his soul clean of the woman until he never thought of her again. In the back of his head, scornful laughter echoed in his head, but he ignored the sound. As he reached the library, he frowned at the silence emanating from the room. Had Meacham simply left his brother to taste the brandy on his own?

The possibility seemed unlikely as the viscount was intimately involved in decisions concerning his guests’ enjoyment. The library door opened with a slight whisper as he entered the softly lit room. Charles’s tall figure wasn’t in sight, nor Meacham’s short, stocky build. Lyndham must have misunderstood his brother’s request. Mathias turned to leave when he heard a faint sound echo in the wall furthest from the door. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Ophelia staring at him in bewilderment.

“What are you doing here?” he snarled.

Ophelia jumped slightly as the anger in his voice. The look on her face made him think he’d suddenly grown two heads. Despite his efforts not to be moved by her, he couldn’t deny how beautiful she was in the firelight that reflected the sweetness of her features, fullness of her breasts, while reminding him how lushly curved the rest of her was beneath her skirt.

“I…your brother sent word…he asked to speak with me.”

“More likely you asked to speak with him.” Mathias eyed her with angry contempt. “Although I confess to being puzzled as to why. Charles’s financial worth is far less than Chelmsford’s.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” she snapped as an expression of anger flashed across her lovely face.

The display of indignation shot a bolt of fury through him. The intimate scene he’d witnessed between her and Chelmsford on the terrace only made the affront she displayed now ring false.

“As you can see, my brother isn’t here. So I suggest you run back to Chelmsford.”

An odd expression crossed her features, but he couldn’t determine whether it was scorn or something else. It didn’t matter. As always he was the one standing between Charles and a scheming woman intent on climbing the social ladder by becoming the Countess of Thornbury. He had no intention of allowing Ophelia to sink her claws into his brother. She’d already deceived him. He refused to let her calculating schemes injure Charles.

Ophelia stared at him for a long moment before she nodded and headed toward the door. The tilt of her head suggested he’d injured her in some way. She passed him and he breathed in the scent of citrus and vanilla. The smell made him close his eyes for a brief moment. Christ Jesus, what if he was wrong? What if Charles had deliberately set this meeting up so they could resolve the discord between them?

Without thinking he moved quickly and caught up with her just as her hand wrapped around the doorknob. One hand braced on the door to hold it closed, he tugged at her arm until she was forced to face him. Brown eyes large in her face, he hated himself for remembering how they’d flashed with desire more than a week ago. Now all he saw was anger reflected in her gaze.

“Let me go, Mathias,” she said in a cold voice.

The icy words belied the heat inside her that he’d experienced first-hand. He narrowed his gaze as he searched her features for some sign he was right—hoping for a flicker of emotion that would reveal she’d come to the library in hopes of finding him, not Charles. Disappointment lashed out at him when he saw nothing in her face to give him hope, yet he couldn’t let her go without knowing the truth.