Page 4 of Dare to Risk it All

“Oh, that’s no trouble,” Oliver said, with all the insouciant carelessness of a sixteen-year-old boy. “We already asked Lady Roxborough, and she said we were welcome to stay as long as we wanted. So, we’re staying for Christmas!”

Greer glanced at her friend Aisling, who sat quietly and apparently content beside her, hands in her lap as she stared out of the carriage window. She was Greer’s opposite in every way. Her hair was black, where Greer’s was blonde, her eyes were a very dark brown where Greer’s were a pale green, and Aisling brought calm where Greer brought pandemonium. Despite this, they were the best of friends, and it had delighted Greer when Aisling had accepted her invitation to come for Christmas. Admittedly, she had begged a little—more than a little—but facing Christmas at her married sister’s beautiful home, with Elspeth’s handsome husband and her perfect life, seemed a little daunting. As much as Greer had longed to visit, she knew there was an inherent risk in being here. She did not want to misbehave and cause a row, but she and Elspeth had always bickered and fought. So she hoped that Aisling’s lovely, calming presence would be a beneficial influence. Now, though, Greer fidgeted on the carriage seat, craning her neck to see if she could glimpse Rowsley Hall from the window. Her younger sister, Alana, who sat on her other side, aimed a swift elbow at her.

“You’re squashing me!” Alana squawked, her dark green eyes glittering with irritation.

“Well, you ought not to take up so much space,” Greer retorted, gesturing to the books, sketchpads and pencils that cluttered the scant inch of room remaining on the seat.

She had borne with it for most of the journey, for it was far better fourteen-year-old Alana did not suffer an uncontrollable urge to do anything rash. Not that she was a naughty child, she was simply a magnet for trouble. Well, she was a Campbell like their mother, like Greer and her twin sister Elspeth. The respectable Cadogan blood on their father’s side tried to keep them all in order, but mostly it failed. As Papa was the wildest of the Cadogans, it was probably fighting a losing battle. Elspeth was the only one who kept propriety in mind and behaved properly, and even she attracted trouble, though unwillingly. Greer looked for it, and Alana—well, bad things happened when she grew bored. Greer was far too excited to reach the Hall. She wanted no unforeseen disasters to delay them.

“Don’t squabble, girls,” their father said, blue eyes glittering at them from over the top of a racing journal. “Not long now.”

“How long?” Alana and Greer cried in unison, waking their mother, who had been dozing peacefully against their father’s shoulder.

“What! What? What did you do?” she demanded, sleepy and disorientated.

“There, there, Bonnie, love,” Papa soothed, setting aside his journal to put his arm about his wife. “No one did anything.”

“Really? No explosions?” she asked, blinking at him in surprise.

“Not one.”

“No furious innkeepers?”

“Not even a mildly disgruntled one.”

Their mother turned her keen gaze upon them both, narrowing her eyes. “They’re saving it up. I bet they are. They’ll do something dreadful and embarrass the family,” she said thoughtfully. Then, instead of giving them a warning to behave, as most mothers would, she grinned. “Oh, I am so looking forward to this.”

Greer heard a soft chuckle from Aisling whilst Papa snorted and kissed their mother’s head of unruly dark curls.

“Dreadful creature,” he murmured affectionately.

Greer sighed. That was what she wanted. She wanted a man to still look at her with adoration after so many years of marriage, even if she was a handful. More of a handful than most men seemed to want, at any rate. Though Greer and Elspeth were twins, they were very different. Elspeth had always been well-behaved, which was why it had been such a shock when she had become embroiled in a scandal. Everyone had always assumed it would be Greer, not practical Elspeth. Things had worked out marvellously, though. She had married Dare, Lord Roxborough, one of the wildest young men in the ton. The family had immediately recognised a kindred spirit, and he had fit right in with their chaos without blinking an eye.

Greer was pleased for her sister. She really was. Terrifically pleased. It was so lovely that Elspeth was so blissfully, marvellously, revoltingly happy. Though if she were being completely one hundred percent honest, it was possible she was the teeny, tiniest bit jealous. Just a smidgen. A—oh, drat it all, she was green with envy. Dare was handsome and funny, and he clearly loved Elspeth to her bones. Greer was terribly afraid no one would ever love her that way. After all, men like her father and Lord Roxborough simply did not come along every day. Most men wanted a placid, biddable bride, a woman who would agree with their every word, have acceptable hobbies, be an elegant hostess, and do nothing to embarrass them in public. Greer knew she could do none of that. She didn’t want to do any of that. Well, she would never deliberately embarrass her husband in public, but she knew herself well enough to realise it would happen eventually.

“Oh! There it is,” Alana exclaimed, bouncing on the seat with a flurry of skirts and sending pencils and books tumbling to the floor.

“Thank heavens!” Greer muttered under her breath and watched with growing anticipation as they drew closer to Rowsley Hall.

Chapter 2

Monsieur le Comte,

For heaven's sake, don’t be difficult. You cannot spend Christmas alone. Surely you want to see your brother, and if that is not incentive enough, I will be there too.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Evie Knight (Daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

1st December 1840, Rowsley Hall, Derbyshire.

Raphe and his brothers looked out the window as the sound of wheels on gravel reached them from the front of the house.

“Who is it, Raphe?”

Raphe peered down, rubbing the windowpane clear as his breath fogged the cold glass. “Must be Elspeth’s family. She said her parents were coming and her sisters.”

“She has a twin, doesn’t she?” Oliver piped up as the three of them crowded about the window.

“That’s not her, then,” Sylvester observed. “Her hair’s black. She’s—” He broke off and Raphe smiled as he saw a rather glazed expression cross his brother’s face.