Page 9 of The Rogue’s Offer

Chapter 3

Stunned by the earl’s generous gesture, Ophelia stared after Mathias’s tall figure as he walked out of the room. Marymont was theirs again. They would not be homeless when their lease ended here in town. Relief and gratitude propelled her forward. As she reached the parlor doorway, she saw Mathias, hat in hand, opening the front door.

“Stop. Please.” At her sharp command, he slowly turned to face her. His expression was unreadable, and Ophelia drew in a deep breath.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would you…why would your brother do such a thing?”

“While my brother has a scandalous reputation, Charles is incapable of leaving anyone destitute.” Mathias’s voice held the ring of cold steel. The icy words made her wince as she remembered her condemning his brother’s integrity last night.

“Then I…I owe him…and you… an apology.” The quiet words hung in the stillness between them as he studied her in silence for a long moment. With a grimace, he shook his head in obvious regret.

“You do not owe me any apologies, my lady. I presumed the worst of you last night, and I regret adding insult to injury with my treatment of you. I’ll bid you good day, my lady.”

“No, wait. Please…I…”

At a loss for words, Ophelia’s voice died away. She had no inkling as to why she’d stopped him a second time. A mocking laugh echoed through her head, and bit down on her lip as she met his penetrating gaze. Again the silence stretched taut between them before he took a step forward.

“Perhaps I might have a cup of that tea your sister offered me.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” she exclaimed softly as she gratefully accepted the olive branch he’d extended to her. “I’m sure tea will be here momentarily.”

Not waiting for his reply, Ophelia led the way back into the parlor. A frisson skimmed its way down her spine as she sensed his commanding presence following her. She gestured toward the chair he’d been seated in earlier and sank down into a love seat opposite him. The parlor was a small room, and Mathias made it feel even smaller as he settled his muscular body into the chair across from her.

What in heaven’s name had possessed her to ask him to stay? Marymont had been returned to her family, and she had no need to continue her acquaintance with Mathias Gilchrist. She was mad to entertain the man after their exchange last night. Her throat tightened slightly as she tried to think of some small pleasantry to break the silence between them. The sudden rattle of china announced she’d been given a small reprieve. Relieved to have something to distract her from the tension in the room, Ophelia sprang to her feet to greet their cook as the woman entered the parlor.

“Thank you, Mrs. Barstow. Please set it here,” Ophelia said, pointing to the short, oval table between the love seat and Mathias’s chair.

As the servant left the room, Ophelia poured their tea. The porcelain rattled slightly as she offered him a cup and saucer. Dismayed by the tremor that shook her hand, she hastily turned her attention to pouring her own cup of tea.

“Tell me, how do you know the Rockwoods?” he asked. The tension that had gripped her for the past several moments eased as his question brought back thoughts of her childhood. She smiled.

“Marymont was my grandmother’s home before she died. It’s a short distance from Melton Park, and I spent most of my summers with my grandmother. Louisa and I became great friends and did almost everything together. They were happy times.”

A warm nostalgia swept through her as she remembered the warm, lazy days that had been such joyous ones. She doubted she would ever be so carefree or happy again. Ophelia winced as she met Mathias’s intent gaze. There was something in his expression that made her think he could see straight into the heart of her. It was an alarming possibility.

“And how long have you been acquainted with the Rockwoods?” she asked as she took a sip of her tea and studied his features over the rim of her cup.

“Charles and Percy were roommates at Eton. When I arrived at school, the two of them would often allow me to tag along wherever they went.” Mathias set his tea cup on the table, and when she leaned forward to pour him another, he waved her silent offer aside.

“They are an indomitable family, and they’ve always made me feel as though I were a member of their family. Louisa, for obvious reasons, is quite dear to me,” Ophelia said quietly as she silently compared her own state of widowhood to her friend’s. Louisa had loved her husband. Ophelia had not. Even despite the annual pittance she received as George’s widow, she was still grateful to be free of her husband. “When I think of the loss they suffered as children, and more recently with the fire at Westbrook…I can only admire their fortitude. Their reputation for being reckless is not a fair one.”

“I agree. I find them more impulsive than reckless.”

“Yes, I find that an accurate description. They’ve always so passionate about living life to the fullest, even more so now.”

“You possess a passionate nature as well.” The quiet response startled her as she met his intent gaze.

“Me?” Ophelia shook her head as an ugly memory of George berating her filled her head. She smiled with a sense of irony as she met Mathias’s gaze steadily. “No, I will never be a creature of passion.”

“That’s Havenstock talking. I believe you’re far more capable of deep emotions than you think. I’ve seen the fire in you Ophelia.”

The conviction in his quiet words made her draw in a sharp breath as an unexpected heat engulfed her. It bore the same strength of the firestorm that had swept through her last night when he’d brushed his lips over hers. Ophelia’s cheeks grew hot at the memory and as their eyes met she quickly jerked her gaze away. Unable to stop it, a small shudder rippled through her. Dismayed by her reaction to him, she swallowed hard.

“You’re wrong, Mr. Gilchrist. The woman you saw last night was desperate to save her home.”

“And now that you have it back, are you still going to allow Havenstock to control you from the grave?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”