Page 15 of A Rogue Worth the Risk

Corinna made a surreptitious sweep of the room.

Surely, Lady Osborne hadn’t included Corinna because she hoped to arrange a match for her? The thought very nearly stole her appetite. Except strawberry crepes were a rare treat indeed, and it would take considerably more than a dreadful matrimonial-related thought to put her off her breakfast entirely.

The rain-lashed glass revealed cranky January weather—there’d be no outdoor activities today. Sulky gunmetal-gray skies portended a wet day. Which meant endless rounds of cards, charades, parlor games, pianoforte performances, and God save her, solos from some of the tone-deaf wretches in this very room. Likely put up to the humiliating task by mamas who refused to acknowledge their darlings’ lack of talent.

Settling onto the chair, her back to the door, Corinna tamped down her disappointment.

Perhaps she might scuttle off to Lady Osborne’s library and browse the shelves for books on architecture or one of her other favorite topics.

Garland speared a piece of sausage and, waggling her thick eyebrows, popped the bite into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.”

“Good morning, Garland.” Snapping her serviette open, Corinna smiled at the twins. “Edmonia. Joanna.”

“Morning, Corinna,” Edmonia said before taking a drink of hot chocolate.

Mouth full, Joanna lifted her fork in greeting.

A moment later, Garland’s heavy eyebrows crashed together, creating a single fuzzy, writhing caterpillar above her prominent nose when she glanced beyond Corinna. “Lord, spare us.”

An expletive or a prayer?

Edmonia and Joanna swung their attention toward where their sister stared. At once disquiet clouded their bright eyes, and they exchanged troubled glances.

It was all Corinna could do not to turn around and see what had disgruntled the Claibornes so.

“How one can have such a…beefy appetite so early in the morning is beyond my comprehension.” Adelphia Haywood’s snide insinuation struck home.

Edmonia winced and sent a frantic glance around as if searching for a savior.

Blinking rapidly, Joanna put her fork down and dropped her focus to her half-full plate but not before Corinna saw the moisture pooling in her pretty brown eyes.

Angry red blotches covered Garland’s cheeks, and she adjusted her grip on her knife and fork as if preparing to go into battle.

Adelphia and her evil cohort minced to stand behind two of the vacant chairs.

“Indeed,” Doretta chimed in with a falsely innocent upward bend of her rouged mouth. She ran her palms over her straight-as-a-mop-handle hips. “It would take me a week to consume that much food.”

One more word, and Corinna would kick decorum across the dining room and jab the spiteful wench with her fork.

“Ah, that explains why you have the figure of a malnourished street lad.”

Caspian.

Six pairs of feminine eyes veered to the new arrival, and Corinna grinned unabashedly.

“I’d say you both also have the ragged manner of street urchins, but that would insult the ragamuffins who don’t know better.” An I-dare-you-to-say-another-word grin affixed to his face, Strathmore set his generously full plate upon the table.

Well done, you.

No humor lit his brandy-colored eyes as he scraped his censorious attention over the troublemakers before drawing the chair out beside Corinna.

Adelphia’s mouth sagged to her flat chest.

Doretta opened her mouth twice, but no sound came forth.

They rather resembled banked trout, mouths gaping. Or pelicans. Angry and humiliated fish or fowl, and their fuming glares promised retribution.

The Claiborne sisters’ brown-eyed gazes veered between Caspian and the meddlesome pair.