Page 63 of Her Rake Fiancé

“Why?” Reuben frowned. “Is it about Janie?”

Ruby stared into the stout man’s dark eyes, hidden under his bushy eyebrows. She couldn’t tell them. It wasn’t their business. They may kill the good lord before Mr. Blackmore could decide what to do about it all.

“No, Reuben,” she said. “It’s not about Janie. But it’s something he must know right away.”

“All right, Rubes,” said Atticus. “We’ll tell him.”

She nodded and went around the building to enter the servants’ quarters. She would make herself coffee. She must not sleep until Mr. Blackmore knew the ruin of her mistress. He must force her to marry the shameless lord even if Janie didn’t want to.

It was for her own good.

29

Four days until the wedding…

Just before the luncheon of the next day, Richard paced the drawing room in Sumhall. The familiar warm atmosphere and colors did nothing to soothe or uplift him.

“Richard,” Calliope said over her book from where she sat on the sofa. “Stop pacing. You remind me of a lion and you make me positively nervous. What is the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter,” he said.

But they both knew that wasn’t true.

As he paused to look out the window, a lavish carriage pulled up in front of their gate, quickly followed by another. Preston climbed out of it first, Penelope after him, holding a white bonnet over her head, her dark blond hair floating in the wind. From the second one, Grandmama was helped to descend by her footman. “Ah, here they are.”

“Nothing?” Calliope scoffed and closed her book. “Please, brother. Did something happen with Miss Grant? Are you having second thoughts?”

“What?” He followed his family with his gaze as they climbed the stairs and then disappeared from view. “No. I’m not having any second thoughts.”

“Is she?” asked Calliope, standing up.

Richard met Calliope’s blue gaze and dropped his eyes, unable to tell any lies when she looked at him like that, as though he were under a microscope.

“No,” he said. “No one’s having any second thoughts. It’s not about Miss Grant or me.”

Calliope frowned and took several steps towards him. Like a bloodhound who’d just caught a scent, she sensed hidden information. Richard both admired and hated when she did that.

The door opened, and Preston, Penelope, and Grandmama came in. Preston was glowing like a gas lamp in the presence of his wife. Penelope was slightly pale but her eyes sparkled with joy. And Grandmama was, as always, regal and sharp, her eyes not missing a thing.

While they all greeted one another, Calliope threw a scowl at Richard that said this wasn’t over, then sat back down. Richard sighed. She’d know before long what had happened.

“It’s good we’re all here,” said Preston, looking around at them, and then his eyes landed on Calliope. “Because, sister, I have found a match for you.”

Poor Calliope paled and looked like a cornered cat, pupils large, hands gripping the edge of the sofa she sat on.

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” said Preston. “Give the man a chance. It’s Lord Chapman. Rich. Well-bred.”

“I know of Lord Chapman,” Calliope said through gritted teeth. “He isn’t the man I’d choose for myself.”

“Because you wouldn’t choose anyone,” said Preston.

Calliope stared at Richard. “And do you approve?”

Richard had a hard time imagining any man would be good enough for his sister, but she would be better off married, that much was clear. He knew Chapman. He was rich. He was handsome. He wasn’t the smartest fellow in the room, but he wouldn’t restrict Calliope, wouldn’t stop her from doing whatever she wanted. She’d have the upper hand in the relationship.

Richard felt his jaws work. “I do not think there’s a man good enough for you in the universe, sister. But if you must marry, Chapman would be a good candidate. He’s rich, and his name is protection enough.”