Excerpt: Until the Rake Surrenders

 

Chapter One

Wiltshire, September 1816

Lady Minerva Halifax stepped into the massive, wood-paneled great hall at Longleat and made a silent vow that she would not find a husband at this house party. Her mother, the Duchess of Henlow, sincerely hoped she would, but since she was not here, Min would not be pressured at every turn. Instead, that would happen when she rejoined her mother in Bath following the party.

Ellis Dangerfield, Min’s companion for seventeen years—since Min was five and Ellis nine—entered alongside her. She glanced around the cavernous great hall with its splendid wood beams decorating the high ceiling, her blue eyes shrewdly assessing, but did not seem overly impressed. Though, Ellis had mastered the art of being enigmatic.

“I’m still shocked my mother chose not to come,” Min said softly as they moved into the hall. Her chaperone, Jane Ogilvie, her mother’s aunt’s cousin, followed them and immediately found a chair on which to perch.

“Apparently, setting up the house in Bath was more important,” Ellis replied. “Particularly since she plans to live there permanently.”

That had been a surprising development. The duchess loved nothing more than presiding at Henlow House in London. So when she’d informed Min that she’d decided to set up a permanent residence in Bath, to say Min was shocked was an understatement. And she still didn’t fully understand why.

It was no secret that her parents’ marriage was fraught, but they’d tolerated each other for years. What had happened to force her mother to decide she no longer wanted to reign as one of Society’s premier hostesses?

Min pushed the thought aside, for she would not find the answer here at Longleat. Instead, she would enjoy the house party and gird herself for the upcoming Marriage Mart in Bath. Her mother had indicated that Min’s time was running out. If she did not wed this autumn, her chance to do so may well be gone. While Min didn’t entirely agree with that dire assessment, she knew she was nearing the shelf. But the shelf was preferable to a loveless marriage and the risk of ending up in a perennial battleground like her parents.

For now, Min would enjoy the party at this gorgeous estate with Ellis. They would, no doubt, have little trouble evading the not-so-watchful eye of Min’s chaperone. Mrs. Ogilvie was a pleasant woman of eighty years with warm hazel eyes and an upturned nose. She had a head of thick white hair due to the wigs she wore. They were neither embarrassingly antiquated nor were they de rigueur. Widowed for nearly sixty years and without children of her own, Mrs. Ogilvie had been pressed into service—sometimes Min wondered if it had been willingly—as the family’s eternal chaperone. Her only demand in return was that she not ever return to London. She’d left when her husband died and had never gone back.

Their hostess, the Marchioness of Bath, mingled about the great hall, greeting all the guests who were being held there. Min glanced at Ellis. “Do you suppose there is going to be an announcement?”

Mrs. Ogilvie answered before Ellis could. “That is what I expect. It is a trifle odd.”

The marchioness came toward them with a bright smile. “Welcome, Lady Minerva, Mrs. Ogilvie, Miss Dangerfield.” She focused on Min. “I’m so pleased you could attend our party, though I am sorry Her Grace was not able to accompany you.”

Rather than address her mother’s absence, Min returned the marchioness’s smile. “May I offer my family’s congratulations on the recent marriage of your daughter?”

“Thank you,” the marchioness replied. “It has been hectic dealing with that in London and then returning here for the party. But it is good to have one daughter wed,” she added with a laugh. Her gaze lingered on Min somewhat expectantly. “I imagine you’ll be hoping to make a match soon, and you are not the only one. Lord Ecclestone’s daughter is also here.”

Their hostess glanced toward the opposite side of the room where the young woman she’d mentioned stood with another young lady and their mothers. Min recognized them all from last spring in London. It had been Miss Ecclestone’s first Season, and there had been many wagers on her betrothal. Only the ones who’d bet against her marrying had won.

The marchioness continued. “There will be several eligible men here, including the Viscount Claxton.” He was heir to an earldom near York—Min’s mother ensured Min knew who all the eligible bachelors were. “They are all young and robust with good fortunes,” Lady Bath noted. “Indeed, you cannot make a poor choice.”

Min doubted that most strenuously. She’d met most of the men who would be in attendance, and none of them met her standards. Every one could be described as a rogue or at least rogue-ish. It wasn’t to say they were universally bad. She simply had no desire to wed someone who would not take the notion of marriage and partnership seriously.

And that was where she knew she was doomed. Very few men saw marriage as a partnership, with each person bringing specific skills and traits to the union that would benefit them both—and create a loving family. For that was what Min wanted more than anything else—a real marriage, not a strategic alliance. Nor would she settle because societal expectations dictated she should.

“Are you to play matchmaker?” Mrs. Ogilvie asked their hostess with a discerning eye, as if she were deciding whether the marchioness was up to the task.

“The Duchess of Henlow asked me to ensure Lady Minerva has ample opportunity to spend time with the bachelors at the party.”

Min snapped her attention to Lady Bath. “She did?”

The marchioness nodded. “She sent me a letter. As a mother, I understand her…concerns. I do wonder why she has not come herself, however.” Overall, her tone held an edge of condescension and disapproval.

Min was tempted to defend her lack of marriage thus far but decided there was no point. She would, however, provide a reason for her mother’s absence. “My mother is busy setting up the household in Bath, where we will be going after the party. I don’t plan to make any decisions regarding marriage until then. Surely you realize that a week-long house party is not a sufficient length of time for courtship.” She gave their hostess a bland smile.

The marchioness’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Longleat can be very romantic. The grounds are beautiful. You may find yourself swept away and falling in love.” Her gaze moved past Min. “You must pardon me, as I’ve another guest to greet.”

After the marchioness had moved away, Mrs. Ogilvie said, “She’s going to try to play matchmaker. It would be a coup for her to have your betrothal announced at the end of the party.”

“But as neither of my parents is here, there will be no betrothal,” Min replied. Even if they were here, there would be no betrothal. Min would not settle for anything less than love, and she was not going to find that in a week at Longleat, no matter how bloody “romantic” the gardens were.

“Not unless a betrothal becomes necessary.” Mrs. Ogilvie chuckled. “Which, of course, it won’t. You have been exceedingly careful when it comes to your behavior. Not at all like that friend of yours who was ruined, poor dear.”

She referred to Pandora Barclay, who’d been ruined two years earlier by the Earl of Banemore during their annual holiday in Weston. Each August, Min and her brother, Sheff, the Earl of Shefford, along with Ellis, traveled to their father’s estate, the Grove, near the seaside town of Weston. Several years ago, Min had befriended Persephone Barclay, who was Pandora’s older sister. They had all become friends, along with two other young ladies who also visited Weston in August.

“Pandora fell in love,” Min said quietly. “That clouded her judgment. She did not expect Bane would lie about loving her in return, nor did she have any idea he was already, apparently, betrothed.” He’d left Weston after they’d been caught in a compromising position and married someone else, leaving Pandora’s reputation in tatters. It was a cautionary tale about love and roguery. While love was a requirement for Min, she was exceedingly careful about falling in love with a rogue.

Ellis nodded in agreement. “That was a terrible situation, and one Min would never find herself in.”

“Love is dangerous,” Mrs. Ogilvie said sadly. “It leaves one completely vulnerable. Whilst that can be wonderful, it can also be devastating.” For her, it had been the latter since she’d lost her husband, whom she’d loved, so soon after they’d wed.

The guest the marchioness had greeted strolled farther into the hall. He’d already removed his hat and likely given it to a footman, for his head was bare, inviting one to study the brown waves of his hair, which were particularly lush for a gentleman. It matched the thickness of the coal-black eyelashes framing his deep brown eyes, which were also notably attractive. Evan Price was objectively handsome—almost distractingly so. He was also Min’s dear friend’s brother.

Most important of all, he was a rogue.

Evan was, however, a safe rogue since he and Min were friends and would never be anything more. He turned his head and met her gaze. He appeared surprised, indicating he hadn’t noticed her—or Ellis, whom he also knew well. Pivoting, he walked toward them with an affable grin.

“Good afternoon, Lady Minerva, Miss Dangerfield, and…” He looked at Mrs. Ogilvie with a faint air of panic. “Forgive me, but I don’t recall your chaperone’s name. Indeed, I don’t even recognize her from London.” He gave Min and Ellis an apologetic grimace. “Please tell me it’s not the same person and that I haven’t just made a complete fool of myself.”

Min couldn’t help laughing at Evan’s self-deprecation. “In fact, this is not the same person. I have two chaperones—one in London and one outside town. Surely you recall Mrs. Ogilvie from the Grove? She is always there with us in August.”

His eyes widened briefly, and he quickly bowed. “Of course. My apologies for not remembering you at first, Mrs. Ogilvie. I’m afraid I don’t always recognize people. It’s a rather embarrassing trait.”

“You are Lady Somerton’s brother,” Mrs. Ogilvie said, referring to Gwen, who was Min and Ellis’s friend.

Evan hesitated the barest moment. “Er, yes. Sometimes I forget she is Lady Somerton now.”

“I think we are all surprised that Somerton wed,” Min noted. He’d been a terrible rogue, and Gwen had been incredibly courageous to marry him—or so Min thought. Somerton did seem entirely reformed. They were deliriously happy.

Mrs. Ogilvie fixed Evan with an expectant stare. “Have you come to the party to find a bride?”

Evan quickly shook his head. “I am not ready for that. Yet.”

“Is our esteemed hostess aware?” Mrs. Ogilvie pursed her lips. “She seems to be under the impression that the bachelors attending this party are in search of wives.”

“I didn’t ever say I was on the Marriage Mart,” Evan said. He looked to Min. “Does the marchioness believe you are here to find a husband? I don’t know that there will be anyone attending whom you will find…worthy.”

“Why do you say that?” Mrs. Ogilvie demanded, as if it wasn’t a well-trafficked rumor that Min’s standards for a husband were so high, no man could meet them. She’d had several suitors and multiple proposals of marriage—all of which she’d declined.

There was also the fact that Evan, as a friend of Min’s brother, likely knew the truth, that Min would not be wooed by anyone whose character was not above reproach. To Min, that was not setting her standards too high. It was respecting herself enough to expect what she deserved: a man who would honor her and himself with his behavior and, above all, who would love her beyond reason.

Actually, Evan wouldn’t know that last bit, for Min did not speak about love. To do so would be to explain why the emotion was so important to her, and to do that would mean exposing her parents’ loveless marriage. Though, that was likely no secret either. Especially now that her mother had decided to reside in Bath permanently.

Min answered her chaperone’s question for Evan. “Mr. Price is aware I am not interested in marrying a rogue. I suspect rogues will be the only kind of bachelors in attendance.”

Evan grinned. “Exactly so.”

“Yourself included,” Ellis said with a faint smile.

While Evan hadn’t demonstrated roguish behavior as brow-raising as Min’s newly wedded brother or Evan’s new brother-in-law, he did not comport himself as a gentleman in search of a bride. He was unserious and raucous, eager to impress others with his sportsmanship and gambling prowess at the tables.

“Shouldn’t you be working in London?” Min asked. Evan was employed by the Treasury, where his father was one of the Lord Commissioners.

“Not at the moment,” Evan said.

Min found it odd that he did not say more. However, she did not press him because three gentlemen entered the hall, their voices carrying loudly.

“Price!” one of them called. Min recognized him as Phillip Lambton, third son of the Earl of Alnwick. He was definitely not here to find a bride, despite what his parents would insist. According to gossip, he was supposed to be dedicating himself to the church and was only pretending to be interested in taking a wife first.

“Ah, the troops have arrived,” Evan said wolfishly. He inclined his head toward Min, then Mrs. Ogilvie and Ellis. “Please excuse me. I’m sure I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Mmm, yes,” Min murmured as Evan took himself off. The tails of his coat swayed with his brisk movement, allowing a glimpse of his rather attractive backside. The man really was too handsome.

Surely no good will come from that.

The observation was something her mother said about attractive gentlemen. Min was certain she referred to her own husband—Min’s father—who’d been very handsome in his youth and still was, despite the paunch he’d developed through years of overindulgence.

“You are quite familiar with Mr. Price,” Mrs. Ogilvie said with more than a hint of curiosity.

“He’s a friend. Almost like family, really,” Min replied. “His sister Gwen is one of my closest friends.”

“Well, that is too bad. He’s rather handsome,” Mrs. Ogilvie said pertly before directing her attention to the gentlemen, now led by Evan, who’d moved to gawk at the huge paintings depicting the story of an orphan who’d been found on the estate. Evan pointed out the antlers, and their loud conversation turned to hunting. “They are going to be tiresome, aren’t they?” Mrs. Ogilvie asked with a sigh.

Ellis laughed softly, and Min joined her.

The Marquess of Bath entered then, and the room gradually fell silent. The marchioness joined him near an incredibly long shuffleboard table. Indeed, it was so large that Min couldn’t imagine how it had been moved into this room. Perhaps it had been built there.

“Welcome to Longleat,” the marquess said loudly. “We have many entertainments planned for the next week, beginning with dinner tonight, followed by dancing and card games. There is also something very special for this party that Lady Bath will explain.” He pivoted toward the marchioness.

She smiled at the assembly of guests, her dark eyes sparking with excitement. “There is great potential for a match to be made. If there is a betrothal, we will gift the couple with a golden rose.” The marchioness smiled broadly.

Ellis leaned toward Min and whispered, “Does she really think that’s going to entice any of these knobheads to wed?”

Min bit back a laugh. “‘Knobhead’?”

“It fits,” Ellis said with a shrug.

It did, indeed. But then another young gentleman stepped away from a group, his movement drawing Min’s attention. She didn’t recognize him and wondered if he was the Viscount Claxton. He was attractive, with auburn hair and strong features from his thick brows to his square chin. His gaze swept the room until it settled on Min. He smiled, slowly, deliberately, it seemed. Min’s spine tingled as heat sparked in her chest.

“Do you suppose that’s Claxton?” Ellis asked softly.

Min pivoted toward Ellis. “I was wondering the same thing.”

“He’s attractive,” Ellis said with the hint of a smile.

A man’s appearance held no bearing as to his character, and that was what Min cared about. “We shall see if he is one of Evan’s ‘troops.’”

Ellis glanced toward the man. “Does that mean you are going to give him a chance?”

“I suppose I must. If I’m to have any hope of marrying before I’m forced to accept someone my parents choose.” Min didn’t doubt that her mother would try to push her into a marriage. She’d agreed to allow Min to marry for love, but that hadn’t come close to happening yet, and her mother was out of patience.

Min was less concerned about her mother’s frustration than she was about her own. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to fall in love. While she was encouraged by the recent love matches her friends had made, she couldn’t help fearing it wouldn’t happen for her. She’d never felt a special inkling or a…pull toward someone.

She was beginning to wonder if she was incapable of experiencing that. Perhaps, after a lifetime of witnessing her parents’ mutual animosity and resentment, she was simply broken.

#

After the ladies left the dining room that evening, Evan remained with the rest of the gentlemen, sipping their port. The Viscount Claxton, whom Evan hadn’t met before, sat to his right. He seemed to be near the same age as Evan’s twenty-seven years and was quick to make a jest, often at someone else’s expense. At least that was what he’d done as soon as the ladies had gone to the drawing room.

Claxton had made a few crude remarks about a couple of the older gentlemen, including their host’s godfather, who was perhaps the most senior guest. The man had a regrettable flatulence problem, and Claxton had made sure everyone in the room was aware.

“So which one of you gents is going to fall into the parson’s trap?” Evan asked.

Lambton shook his head vigorously. “Not me. My money is on Barswell.”

The dark-haired and dark-eyed Viscount Barswell gave Lambton a hooded look. “Why me?” he asked, before sliding a glance toward Claxton. “I think our money should be on the one with the need to wed.”

Claxton narrowed his eyes at Barswell. “I would argue that we all need to wed at some point.”

Even Evan knew that was true. He may not be a titled gentleman with a need for an heir, but his father was successful and had gained an important role in the government. He wanted a legacy and was eager for Evan to take a wife and have children to carry on the family name. Evan was, after all, the only son.

“Some sooner than others,” Lambton said before sipping his port. He’d barely swallowed before adding, “Are the rumors about your finances untrue?”

The younger men sat at one end of the table, and every one of them swept their gaze toward Claxton. The older men at the head, where the marquess was holding court, were not paying attention to the conversation at the other end.

Claxton frowned. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m quite solvent, thank you.” He tipped back the rest of his port, and a footman quickly refilled his glass.

Evan studied Claxton and tried to discern if the man was telling the truth, but it was impossible to tell.

“At least my teeth are straight,” Claxton said to Lambton, confirming what Evan had already decided—that Claxton possessed a penchant for spite.

Lambton flushed before draining his glass. It too was quickly refilled.

Claxton turned his attention to Evan. “And I have a title, which can’t be overlooked.”

Was he trying to assert his noble dominance? Evan swallowed a laugh. “I am delighted to be free of the obligations that come with a title and dictate much of one’s life.”

“More time for your daredevil feats,” another of the young men said. “Will you be conducting any of your riding tricks at the party?”

One of Evan’s athletic pursuits was riding horses and performing tricks one might see at Astley’s. “Who can say?”

“I think it’s time we join the ladies,” their host announced as he rose at the head of the table.

All the gentlemen stood and made their way from the dining room. The marquess spoke with one of the footmen and did not move toward the door until Evan was nearly there. They were the last two gentlemen to leave.

The marquess gestured at the doorway. “After you, Price.”

Evan inclined his head and stepped over the threshold. Outside the dining room, the marquess moved to walk alongside him. “I’m glad you were able to attend the party. My wife is thrilled to have you here and is hopeful you will demonstrate your daring skills on horseback. Perhaps tomorrow after our ride?”

“I would be delighted,” Evan said.

They stood facing one another, and the marquess studied Evan a moment. “Will you return to London after the party, or will you be spending the autumn away from Town?”

The man’s assessing gaze made Evan tense. Had the marquess heard of the scandal that had driven Evan from London? “I will be spending a month or so in Bath,” Evan replied evenly.

In fact, his father had instructed him not to return to London until the new year, to allow the gossip to dissipate. It was a major inconvenience to Evan, particularly since his role in the scandal was entirely fabricated.

The marquess nodded faintly. “A sound decision. I do hope you’ll be on your best behavior here. I’m not sure what happened specifically, but I would ask that you ensure my wife’s party and reputation are not harmed by any…indiscretion.”

Evan should have expected something like this since he was believed to have engaged in a liaison with a married woman whose husband also worked at the Treasury. The truth, however, was that he had not conducted an affair with Mrs. Dalton. That had been his good friend Roger Martin, to whom Evan owed a debt. He’d taken the blame, thinking he would weather the scandal far better than Roger, who was just starting a promising career as a barrister and who did not have the benefit of strong family or social connections to see him through.

Summoning a smile he hoped the marquess would believe, Evan inclined his head with a measure of deference. “I have learned my lesson, my lord. Please be assured my behavior will be well above reproach.”

“I am relieved—and glad—to hear it,” Bath said. “And if you are searching for a wife, the marchioness will be thrilled to assist you.”

“I am not on the hunt, alas. And I think you may want to prepare her ladyship for the very real possibility that there will not be a match at this party. I don’t think this particular crop of gentlemen is altogether serious about matrimony just now.”

“You ought to convince them,” the marquess said with a smile. “Marriage comes for us all, and there are several excellent bridal prospects here. One of you could very well procure the hand of Henlow’s daughter. That man would be highly congratulated, his faults forgotten.”

Was he trying to persuade Evan that he should wed Min in order to tidy his reputation?

“I’ll point that out,” Evan said. He didn’t bother telling the man that Min wouldn’t wed any of these rogues.

The marquess started toward the drawing room, and Evan fell into step beside him. “You should ask Lady Minerva to dance.”

“I’m sure I will. She is a friend of my sister’s, after all. And her brother is a close friend.”

“One must wonder why the two of you aren’t already betrothed,” the marquess noted with a sidelong glance and a chuckle.

“We are friends, my lord. I am not sure Lady Minerva and I would be suited romantically.”

“Sometimes it’s enough to marry a friend—someone you respect and whose company you enjoy. It’s certainly preferable to wedding a woman you barely know or with whom you have nothing in common.” The marquess’s gaze fixed on the doorway to the drawing room ahead.

Evan let the host of the party enter first, then followed behind. He sought out Min and saw that she was already dancing—with Claxton. She seemed to be enjoying herself, if her smile was any indication.

Ellis was standing in the corner, ever the wallflower. Evan joined her. “I have never seen you dance. Do you even know how?”

She laughed. “Yes, not that I have occasion to demonstrate my ability. I learned from watching Min—both in lessons and in practice at countless balls and assemblies.”

“You did not partake in the lessons?’

“They weren’t for me.” Her tone seemed to indicate that didn’t bother her, but Evan had to think she must have felt left out.

“You didn’t want to learn?”

She shrugged. “I have always been Min’s companion. While I received the same education from the governess, I was not given any training in comportment. The irony is that I am better at embroidery than Min.”

Evan grinned. “How charming.” They watched the dancing for a few moments before he said. “What will you do when Min weds?”

“If she weds.”

“You think she won’t?” He pivoted toward Ellis, whose evening gown was plain and whose blonde hair was coiled into a simple style, with only a ribbon to decorate it. Her appearance reinforced that she was subordinate to Min. Evan noted that regardless of the division, the two women appeared to be as close as sisters.

“I think she will only wed when and if she finds the right bridegroom. She will not settle, even if her parents demand it.”

“She can always follow her brother’s lead,” Evan said. “When they demanded he marry, he found the most inappropriate woman possible.”

Ellis turned her head to look at him. “And now they are happily wed. If that is the lead Min should follow, then I heartily agree. She deserves nothing less than true, abiding love and lasting happiness.”

The dance ended, and Evan realized Ellis hadn’t answered his question about what she would do when Min wed. Perhaps that was something Ellis didn’t care to contemplate.

Min and Claxton parted as they left the small dancing area. Min went directly to a table bearing a Delft punchbowl. After helping herself to a cup, she took a few sips before making her way to Ellis and Evan.

Evan noted Min’s pink cheeks and her rapid drinking of the punch. “I was going to ask if you wanted to dance the next set, but perhaps you would rather have a respite.”

“There isn’t going to be any more dancing,” Min said. “We decided the space was too small. I’ll dance with you at the ball on the final night, if you like. That will be in the ballroom.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” He sent a look toward Claxton, who was now speaking with one of the other young ladies. Evan had no idea which one. If he was terrible at recalling faces, he was only marginally better at remembering people’s names. It was damnably difficult to keep everyone straight, so he found it best to just be frank about his poor memory when it came to people.

“How did you find Claxton?” he asked Min, wondering if the man had revealed any of his venom.

“Quite charming, actually.” She narrowed her eyes at Evan and edged closer. “Why, what do you know?”

He didn’t want to tell her about Claxton’s obnoxious behavior in the dining room. Perhaps the man had only been trying to show off since he didn’t really know anyone. Evan could understand feeling nervous. He recalled the first time he’d met Min’s brother and his friends in Weston a few years ago. He’d been somewhat intimidated by a duke, a viscount, and two earls, and even more so by their close friendship. He’d felt like an interloper until they’d welcomed him eagerly and sincerely.

“I don’t know anything,” Evan replied. “I’m sure you’ll come to know him during the party.”

“Can I count on you to tell me if you hear anything important?” she asked. “Particularly if he’s a scoundrel.”

“Yes, you can rely on me to deliver the truth if it is presented to me.” He made a silent note to himself to keep a close eye on Claxton, particularly as his behavior pertained to Min. “I’m happy to play the role of brother during the party.”

Min’s brow creased. “I don’t need another brother, but I appreciate your concern. I am looking forward to this respite from my family, so I would prefer if you didn’t watch over me in that manner.”

“I can understand needing a respite from one’s family.” Evan was glad to be away from his father in particular. He’d been livid when he’d learned of Evan’s “indiscretion” and had promptly banished him from the Treasury and from London.

“Will you be performing any of your riding tricks at the party?” Min asked.

“In fact, the marquess asked me to demonstrate them tomorrow after the ride.”

Min sniffed. “The ride the ladies aren’t invited to?”

“Er, I suppose so,” Evan said. “I am not as well-versed in house parties as you, but don’t the men typically ride separately?”

“Usually, but since the marchioness is playing matchmaker, I thought she might allow the women to ride with the men. Instead, she isn’t offering riding to us at all.” Min made a sound of frustration.

“What will you be doing?” Evan asked.

“Reading or doing needlework, I would guess. Though, perhaps we will be invited outside to watch your performance.” A mischievous glint lit her pale gray eyes. They were an astonishing color and never failed to draw his notice—and admiration. “If not, I think we shall happen to take a walk around that time.” She looked to Ellis, who inclined her head in response.

“Then I shall attempt something extraordinary,” Evan said with a smile.

Ellis arched a brow. “I shall hope you do more than attempt. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen to you.”

“I haven’t hurt myself yet, beyond the occasional bruise. I’m confident in my abilities.” He leaned toward them. “You should be too.”

“Well, if your arrogance is any indication, we shall be greatly entertained,” Min said with a laugh.

Evan couldn’t help grinning. “I shall do my best.” He saw Min’s gaze drift toward Claxton once more and had second thoughts about not telling her of his offensive behavior. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to watch out for the handsome viscount since he is unknown to us.”

“You do not,” Min replied pertly. “There is no one more guarded when it comes to your sex than I.”

That Evan believed.

Chapter Two

As expected, the ladies were gathered in the drawing room late the following morning, either reading or working on embroidery. Min was doing neither and noticed there was another young lady who’d also eschewed the activities. She stood near the window looking out over the expansive gardens.

Min approached the young woman, who appeared to be slightly younger than Min’s twenty-two years. She had dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes that were focused, rather wistfully, outside.

“I’m Lady Minerva. I didn’t see you last night.”

She turned her head toward Min. “I know who you are. I’m Iona Shaughnessy. We arrived late. One of our horses had a problem with his shoe.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Min looked out at the gardens. “Do you wish you were outside? Perhaps riding with the gentlemen? I do.”

“It’s certainly preferable to embroidery.” Miss Shaughnessy wrinkled her nose. “Do you think it is worth telling the marchioness we would prefer to be riding?”

Min chuckled. “I’m not sure. The marchioness seems to have somewhat rigid ideas about what the men and women should be doing at this party. She’s quite focused on whether someone will make a match.” She slid a long look toward Miss Shaughnessy. “Will that be you?”

Miss Shaughnessy’s eyes darted toward a dark-haired woman seated in a chair not far away. “My mother certainly hopes so. That’s why she brought me here.” She looked at Min. “Is that not why you are here?”

Min shrugged. “The marchioness would like it if I made a match, as would my own mother. However, my mother is not here, so I do not feel the same pressure as you do. My apologies, Miss Shaughnessy.”

“Please call me Iona.”

“Then you must call me Min, as all my friends do.”

Iona smiled. “Are we friends, then?”

“I don’t see why not,” Min said. “We’ve already established that neither of us wants to be trapped in the drawing room under threat of embroidery. As it happens, I’m planning to steal outside shortly in order to watch Mr. Price demonstrate his feats of daring on horseback.”

Iona’s eyes took on a gleam of anticipation. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“I’ve heard of Mr. Price’s daredevil antics,” Iona said. “My brother, Ruark, rather Wexford, is acquainted with Mr. Price.”

“Your brother is the Earl of Wexford?” Min asked. “I know Lady Wexford. If she were here, she would no doubt be joining us outside.”

Iona nodded. “She would indeed.”

Min realized she’d heard of Iona Shaughnessy before, probably from Cassandra—Lady Wexford. The Earl of Wexford had four half sisters, one of whom was married to the owner of the Phoenix Club. Min had thought that the second oldest, which would be Iona, was betrothed, but apparently, she’d been mistaken.

“Forgive me,” Min said, “I thought you were perhaps already engaged to be married.”

Iona’s lips twisted into a frown of disgust. “I expected to be; however, the gentleman did not make a formal offer, despite leading me to believe he would.”

Min scowled. “The bounder! He sounds like a terrible rogue. I hate rogues. In fact, my friends and I have a set of rules we adhere to in order to avoid rogues at all costs. It can be very treacherous as a young lady, especially if she is on the Marriage Mart.”

Iona pivoted toward Min, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Do tell me about these rules.”

“They are somewhat common sense, but it is good to have a reminder and to have the support of one’s close friends as we work to keep ourselves safe from scandalous men,” Min explained. “They are: never be alone with a rogue. Never flirt with a rogue. Never give a rogue a chance. Never doubt a rogue’s reputation. Never believe a rogue’s pledge of love or devotion.”

“I’ve learned that one,” Iona interrupted with a harsh laugh. “Please continue, or is that all of them?”

“No, there are more. Eight in total,” Min said. “Never trust a rogue to change. Never allow a rogue to see your heart. And when all else fails, ruin the rogue before he can ruin you.”

“Oh, that is excellent advice,” Iona said earnestly. “Do you and your friends have a club for avoiding rogues?”

“Not officially, but consider yourself a member of our group—a founding one, since you just came up with the notion to formalize ourselves into a club. We must stick together, especially as we navigate house parties such as this, where the field is rife with eligible bachelors we are supposed to consider.”

“I’ve never been in a club,” Iona remarked.

“Of course not. Nearly all clubs are for men.” Min rolled her eyes, and they both laughed. “Will your mother force you to wed at some point?”

“Probably, but mostly she just wants to make sure my prospects haven’t been ruined,” Iona replied. “She’s concerned my reputation has been damaged by my former suitor not proposing. But I don’t care. I’m still young and have time before I’m consigned to spinsterhood. I’m in no hurry to find a husband after my recent experience.”

“I don’t blame you,” Min said in commiseration. “It is very hard to find a gentleman who is not a rogue. Four of my antirogue friends have married, and their husbands were some of the worst rogues you can imagine. Love has somehow transformed them. I can scarcely credit it.” She shook her head. “One of them is my own brother. It does give me hope, for if he can fall irrevocably in love and reform himself, then I think it’s possible anyone can.” Particularly since Sheff had perfected his roguish skills watching their father—one of the worst rogues Min knew. The difference between them, however, was that Sheff had been able to redeem himself.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Iona said with a smile. “I did read that your brother recently married. Is his bride in your club?”

“Yes, Jo is absolutely delightful.”

Iona’s brow creased faintly. “Doesn’t her mother own the Siren’s Call? That’s a gaming hell, isn’t it?”

Min nodded. “Much to my mother’s chagrin. Their happiness is proof that you can’t let Society or even your mother dictate what’s best for you.”

“I agree,” Iona said eagerly. “I have been thinking of ways to placate my mother so that she will ease up on her management. She is hoping I might find a suitor here, but I confess, none of these gentlemen sparks my fancy.”

“I completely understand and feel the same.” Min lowered her voice slightly. “I have not been above making up pretend suitors to pacify my mother. But I’ve done so often enough that it doesn’t work anymore. Perhaps it would work for you.”

Iona seemed to consider the idea. “It might. Thank you.”

Ellis approached them, and Min introduced her to Iona. “She’s the newest member of our club.”

“We have a club?” Ellis asked.

“The Rogue Rules Club,” Min replied.

“I didn’t realize it was a club,” Ellis said with a laugh, her blue eyes sparkling.

“It was Iona’s idea.” Min sent her an admiring glance. “She asked if it was a club, and I wondered why it wasn’t.”

Ellis smiled at Iona. “Brilliant. Perhaps we all need something themed, perhaps embroidered handkerchiefs.”

“I love that idea, but you and Pandora can manage that.” Min chuckled. “Iona likes needlework as much as I do.”

“Pandora and I will be delighted,” Ellis assured her with just the faintest hint of sarcasm. “Shall we take our walk outside?”

Min looked to their new friend. “Iona will be joining us.”

“Excellent,” Ellis said with a nod. “I’ve already informed Mrs. Ogilvie that we will be taking a walk in the garden.”

“Let me just inform my mother,” Iona said.

“She won’t want to come with us, will she?” Min hoped not.

Iona made a brief moue of distaste. “I will make sure she does not. I daresay she will prefer to remain here gossiping.”

Iona went to speak with her mother, a pretty woman with brown hair and a dazzling smile. As Min and Ellis made their way to the door, Min said, “Iona’s brother is the Earl of Wexford.”

“I knew that,” Ellis said.

“Of course, you did,” Min replied. “You know Debrett’s even better than I do.”

Ellis shrugged. “It has been useful over the years. To you, and I am your companion, after all.”

While it was useful to Min, it wasn’t for Ellis. She didn’t have to navigate Society or consider family, and she did not have to worry about marriage or what connection she might make.

Iona joined them at the door, and they made their way outside. “What about hats?” she asked. “Or gloves.”

“Min and I stashed ours in the yellow room near the door to the patio,” Ellis said.

“Should I run upstairs to fetch mine?” Iona asked. She appeared slightly concerned, with fine lines crossing her brow.

“There may not be time. Wear mine,” Min offered as they walked into the yellow room. “My mother isn’t here to be annoyed with me.”

Ellis hastened to the table where they’d set their accessories and handed her hat to Iona. “No, wear mine. I don’t have a mother at all, nor does anyone expect me to be anything other than background furnishing.” She grinned, which took the sting from her words. Still, Min could see that Iona didn’t quite know how to respond.

“Ellis truly means for you to wear her accessories,” Min said to Iona. “And she does not mind that we are treated differently than she is—even though we may mind.”

“That is very kind of you, Ellis.” Iona took the bonnet and set it atop her auburn locks. “But I refuse to take your gloves. I can manage without them, and this way, we are sharing.”

Ellis smiled. “Fair enough.”

They departed the house and stepped onto the patio. The day was bright and warm so that they did not need a wrap or spencer. The trees were still mostly green, but autumn was in the air. Longleat’s gardens were extensive and stunning. They’d been designed by Capability Brown and offered a great many features.

The gardens did not beckon, however, as Min was eager to watch Evan’s demonstration. They walked through the manicured gardens toward the stables. Min’s maid had determined that the spectacle was to take place in the stable yard.

“We should probably watch from afar,” Min said. “I don’t want to cause a scene since we aren’t supposed to be there.”

“That’s probably best,” Iona agreed.

As the stable yard came into view, they searched for a vantage point and settled on standing beneath a tree on a slight rise. After a few minutes, the men rode into the yard. There was a flurry of activity as they all dismounted, and grooms took the horses away.

Not everyone dismounted; Evan was still atop his magnificent bay horse.

“Have you seen him perform these feats before?” Iona asked.

“By accident, I suppose,” Min said. “He rescued a young woman from being trampled by a runaway horse in Hyde Park. It was most impressive. He was able to grab the bridle and pull himself onto the horse.” Min exchanged a look with Ellis who had also witnessed the marvel. “I would not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.”

Iona’s eyes rounded. “That is astonishing.”

The gentlemen gathered together to watch as Evan rode to the other end of the stable yard. He swept his hand wide and then kicked his horse into a full gallop around the circle of the yard. Just watching him ride was entertainment enough. He was incredibly skilled, his lean legs hugging the horse’s flanks as they picked up speed. Horse and rider moved as one.

After a couple of laps, Evan let go of the reins and put his arms wide, casting his head back. The horse continued on its path and didn’t slow. Min realized she was smiling. He was magnificent.

“Remarkable,” Iona breathed. “That horse must belong to him.”

“I would say so,” Min agreed. “The animal would need to be as trained as he is. Any other horse would be bolting by now.”

“It looks bloody terrifying,” Ellis said. But then, Ellis rarely rode and not just because she hadn’t been encouraged to, as Min had. Ellis did not care for it at all.

Evan retook the reins, and there was applause from the gentlemen spectators. After another lap around the stable yard, Evan bent low over his mount, his cheek pressed to the horse’s neck.

Min held her breath in anticipation for what he might do next. He pulled his feet from the stirrups and brought his legs up. Again, the horse didn’t so much as flinch. They continued speeding around the stable yard.

Then Evan twisted in the saddle, sitting sideways as he brought one leg over. He grinned and waved at the gentlemen, his hand still raised as he continued around the yard. He seemed to see Min and the others standing beneath the tree, as he casually flicked his wrist in their direction.

Min’s pulse sped. “He sees us.”

Evan turned again in the saddle and brought one leg up under himself where he planted his foot down. He swept his other leg to the side, crouching on the back of the horse.

“Is he going to stand?” Iona asked, sounding as breathless as Min felt.

“He can’t,” Ellis said, sounding horrified. But that was exactly what he did. He pushed himself up, one hand still on the reins. The horse slowed a bit, but not as much as Min would have thought. Her heart was racing as she watched him straighten and stand tall atop the saddle, both feet braced on the animal.

“He’s going to fall,” Ellis exclaimed. “I can’t watch.” She slapped her hand over her eyes.

“I can’t look away,” Iona cried.

Min was riveted. He completed one full lap standing atop the animal. Then he crouched down once more. The men watching applauded wildly and whooped loudly.

“He’s back in the saddle,” Min said, and Ellis peeked over her hand before dropping it to her side. She exhaled with relief.

But Evan wasn’t finished. He tossed a handkerchief to the ground, then continued in his oval circuit of the stable yard. Min was entranced.

Taking one foot from the stirrups once more, he leaned over the other side of the horse and extended his arm to pluck up the handkerchief he’d dropped. As he grasped the white linen, the men cheered, and Min found herself clapping, a grin splitting her cheeks.

When he did not immediately right himself, Min’s smile faded. Where all his previous movements had been marked by grace and precision, something was now wrong. His arm twitched, and he seemed to be fighting to bring himself up.

Time slowed as Evan tilted toward the ground. His body slipped from the horse while his foot was still stuck in the stirrup.

All three of them gasped. Min took two steps forward, her breath frozen in her lungs. The horse was going to drag him if he couldn’t get his foot free. But the horse was well trained, and it slowed quickly, just as Evan managed to pull his foot away. He fell to the earth.

Without thought, Min ran toward the stable yard.

Chapter Three

Everything was dark, just as one might expect it to be in the afterlife. It was also noisy, which was not what Evan had anticipated. Actually, Evan hadn’t given much thought to what would happen when he died. Perhaps he should have done.

Or perhaps it was dark because his eyes were closed. The moment he realized that, pain shot through his head and ankle. He winced sharply.

“Are you all right?”

The question was called out several times. Evan blinked open his eyes and saw a circle of men standing above him. To a one, they stared down at him, their features concerned. Evan looked past them up at the blue sky, where a pair of clouds drifted overhead.

“Evan?” That was a woman’s voice. He might be bad with faces and with names, but he knew voices, and that was Min.

She pushed through the circle of men and knelt down beside him. Stupidly, he worried that her pale-yellow gown would be immediately soiled from the dirt. She did not appear to care, however, her gaze fixed on him with gentle concern.

“So much for your arrogance,” she murmured just loud enough for only him to hear.

Evan smiled and was rewarded with a jabbing pain in his skull. He closed his eyes again and felt Min—at least he hoped it was Min—touch his shoulder.

“We need to send for a doctor,” someone said.

“Where do you hurt?” Min asked softly. Evan opened his eyes again and met her caring gray gaze.

“My head is pounding quite fiercely, but the pain in my left ankle is much sharper.” He tentatively moved his foot and instantly regretted it.

She glanced at his foot. “That’s the one that was stuck in your stirrup as you fell.”

Evan winced, which only made his head hurt more. He wanted to argue that he hadn’t fallen, but of course, he had. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but he would have plenty of time to consider that.

He gasped softly. “What about Merlin?”

“Is that your horse?”

Evan stopped himself from nodding as that would only bring more pain. “Yes. What happened to him?”

“He slowed down immediately, but I confess I was too concerned about you.” Min looked up at someone. “Did a groom catch hold of Mr. Price’s horse?”

“Yes.” The response came from the marquess, Evan thought.

“And he’s fine?” Evan tilted his head slightly, which hurt, of course, and saw the marquess standing behind Min.

“He is well,” the marquess said. “You, on the other hand, need a doctor. And a bonesetter, I should think. We will need to fetch them from Frome, which will take time.”

Min gently ran her fingertips across Evan’s brow. Her touch was instantly soothing. “We should get you inside. You can’t very well lie here in the dirt until the doctor arrives.” A faint smile teased her lips.

“Do not make me smile or, God forbid, laugh,” Evan said. “It hurts too much.”

“Then I shall only speak to you in a stern, commanding voice,” Min replied, her brows pitching low over her stunning eyes.

“He needs some brandy,” someone called.

“I definitely agree with that,” Evan said.

Min gave him a nod before standing. She turned to the marquess. “Do you have anything that would serve as a litter to carry him inside?”

“I’m sure we can come up with something.” The marquess strode away.

Min turned to someone else and told them to go inside to fetch brandy. Then she knelt back down beside Evan. “We’ll get you inside very shortly,” she said.

She turned her head and called for Ellis and someone named “Iona.” Evan, of course, recognized Ellis, but the other young lady was unknown to him. He hoped he hadn’t met her last night and already forgotten.

Min looked to her companion. “Ellis, will you go inside and arrange for a place on the ground floor to which Mr. Price can be carried? It must be somewhere the doctor and bonesetter can tend to him, and it must have a settee or some other piece of furniture on which he can put up his legs.” She glanced back at Evan. “I think it’s too much to carry him up the stairs.”

He wondered why she didn’t ask for his input but decided it didn’t matter since he enthusiastically agreed with her. The thought of being jostled up the stairs and all the way to his small chamber in a distant corner was utterly repellent.

“I agree,” Ellis replied, settling the matter for good—as if it had ever been up for debate. Ellis and the other young lady left with alacrity.

The weight of everyone’s stares pricked at Evan, adding discomfort to his pain. He closed his eyes once more.

“What’s wrong?” Min moved closer to his side and spoke quietly. “Are you going to lose consciousness again?”

“Did I lose consciousness before?” He did not open his eyes.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t here. Do you remember if you did?”

He tried to think through the sequence of events that happened. He’d plucked up the handkerchief, and he hadn’t been able to right himself on Merlin. Then he’d looked toward the tree where Min and Ellis and the other young lady—Iona—were standing, wondering if they’d seen what he’d just done. That small distraction had made him lose his balance, and he’d slid from the horse, the weight of his body carrying him toward the ground. He hadn’t been able to remove his foot from the stirrup before his ankle was painfully wrenched. Even thinking of it made his extremity throb in agony. At least Merlin hadn’t dragged him, he supposed.

“Evan, did I lose you?” Min prodded him, pressing her hand against his upper arm.

He opened his eyes and met her concerned stare. “No, I was just thinking of what happened. Bloody humiliating,” he muttered.

“I thought it was brilliant.” Min smiled. “Right up until you fell, of course, but you even managed to make that look exciting.”

Evan grinned, and once again, pain stabbed through his head. “Damn it, Min, I told you not to make me laugh or smile, and now you’ve made me curse in front of you.”

“You know I’ve heard much worse at the Grove every summer. Do you recall whether you lost consciousness or not?” she asked again.

“I think I must have,” he replied. “At least for a moment or two.”

“Well, I can’t imagine this is how you’d hoped to spend your house party,” she said with a sigh.

“Definitely not.” He’d be cooped up in his tiny chamber far away from everyone. When he managed to make his way up there, and right now, he couldn’t countenance it. Perhaps he’d just stay wherever they carried him to.

The marquess returned. “We’ve found a board that should support you. We’re going to transfer you onto it and carry you inside. Move aside,” the marquess said, waving at the men standing to Evan’s left.

Min remained on his right side as a pair of grooms put a board down next to Evan.

Frowning, Min looked at the grooms in succession. “That isn’t long enough.”

“It will be sufficient,” the marquess said, though Min hadn’t been speaking to him.

She turned to address the marquess, one hand moving to her hip in a thoroughly managerial stance. “His left ankle is injured, as is his head. With that board, one of those appendages will be hanging over either end.”

“My head is an appendage?” Evan asked.

Min tossed him a faint scowl. “You know what I mean.” She returned her attention to their host. “They need a longer board, else Mr. Price risks further injury.”

“I would rather not endure that,” Evan put in, glad for Min’s advocacy.

Frowning, the marquess looked at the board, and then at Evan, and then back to the board. “I didn’t credit you for being that tall, Price. What are you? Six feet?”

“About that,” Evan replied.

The marquess exhaled and looked to one of the grooms. “Find a longer board, please.” As the grooms bent to pick up the board they brought, he added, “And take that one with you.”

“Don’t make too much of a fuss,” Evan mumbled, hating to be a nuisance.

Min pursed her lips at him. “I’m in charge right now, and I will make all the fuss that is required to ensure your care and recovery.”

“You’re in charge?” he asked.

She nodded primly. “For now, someone has to be. Look around you. Nothing but useless men,” she said quietly, her eyes darting from side to side.

Evan fought against another grin. “I am glad for your management.” Without it, he would have been hauled inside with either his ankle or his head dangling over the board—or perhaps both. Neither of which sounded particularly pleasant.

“I brought brandy,” someone said. Evan couldn’t see who it was.

Min turned her head and looked up at whoever had spoken. “Did you not bring a glass?” she asked sternly. “You can’t expect him to drink straight from the decanter.”

Evan stifled another smile, which was only slightly less painful than actually smiling.

“That didn’t occur to me,” the man replied, sounding utterly nonplussed. “I’ll fetch a glass.”

“Please do,” Min said.

“It’s a very good thing you’re in charge,” Evan said. “How absolutely gauche to expect me to drink from the decanter.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head at his sarcasm. “How do you expect to drink at all, lying there in the dirt? I’m not sure why I bothered with a glass. If you open your mouth, I suppose I can just pour some down your gullet.”

A laugh bubbled in Evan’s throat, which lifted his head slightly. That also meant his head came back down on the earth. He winced. “I can wait until I get inside.”

“Here comes another board. Let us hope this is an improvement.” Min’s gaze moved to his left. The same two grooms put another board down on the dirt next to Evan.

“Excellent,” Min said with approval after assessing its length. Bizarrely, he wondered if she might provide the same quick judgment when perusing the lengths of other things. What a horribly indecent thought. Particularly involving Min.

“Who’s going to move him onto the board?” Min asked, jolting Evan from his lewd meanderings.

“They can do it,” the marquess said.

Min looked from one groom to the other and back again as she spoke. “Be very careful. Make sure you put your hands beneath Mr. Price’s shoulders and lift him as gently as possible. Actually, try not to lift him much at all. It’s best if you keep his left ankle as stable as possible, as it may be broken. Try to scoot him onto the board.”

The grooms knelt, one behind Evan’s head and one at his feet. He tensed, anticipating a burst of pain.

“Be very careful,” Min repeated as the grooms slipped their hands beneath him.

Evan closed his eyes and braced himself. They picked him up and slid him onto the board, and as the groom who held his shoulders moved back, Evan’s head dropped against the board, sending a new wave of agony through his skull. He heard Min suck in her breath.

“Now lift the board slowly and gently,” Min instructed. “Can the two of you manage the board and Mr. Price alone, or will you need help?”

“They’ll be fine,” the marquess replied as if the grooms were mute.

Min stood and directed two other men to help with the board, one of whom was the Viscount Claxton. He gave her a charming smile. “It is my pleasure to do your bidding, my lady.”

Evan steeled himself once more as they lifted him. The jostling was painful, but they made it into the house with only a slight bobble as they moved through the doorway.

Ellis was waiting for them just inside. “This way. We’re taking him into the ladies’ library.”

They walked past the large main library into a smaller room with far fewer books and exponentially more pink, along with flashes of yellow. It was as if a bright summer garden had exploded inside the room.

“Set him down over by that settee,” Min directed. “Carefully,” she reminded them. They set him down on the floor, and as Claxton stepped around the makeshift litter, his boot grazed Evan’s left foot. Evan gasped as pain tore through him.

Min was at his side once more. “What happened?”

“Claxton bumped into my foot,” he growled.

She sent the viscount a surprisingly vicious glare that brought Evan far more glee than it should have. Served the man right for being an ass.

Claxton retreated as Min asked the footmen to gently lift Evan to the settee in the same manner they had moved him from the ground onto the board. This was far more painful, as they weren’t just moving him in a parallel fashion. They had to lift him and set him down. He was now almost certain his ankle was broken.

He was thoroughly peeved at himself.

There was an influx of women then, led by the marchioness. The marquess also came in, along with a few retainers. Several gentlemen brought up the rear until the exceedingly floral ladies’ library looked as if it were about to host a performance.

“Wonderful,” he murmured. “I’ve become the party’s entertainment.”

“Being the party’s entertainment is what delivered you here,” Min pointed out.

“Can’t you just make them all leave?” he whispered. “You’re very good at ordering people about. I’m most impressed.”

“I will do my best. But let me see about getting you that brandy first.”

“Wait, I need to sit up instead of lying flat. Are there pillows you could put behind me?”

“Yes, in fact, one of the maids already has them,” Min said, sounding pleased. She and the maid worked together to plump pillows behind him and get him situated on the settee.

“Brandy, if you please,” Min asked the maid.

The marquess moved forward to the settee, along with his wife. “I’m dreadfully sorry this has happened. We’ll make sure you are well cared for.”

“I appreciate that,” Evan replied. “Min is doing an excellent job. Lady Minerva, I mean.”

The brows of the marchioness—and to a lesser extent the marquess—arched in silent question.

“We are well acquainted,” Min explained. “Mr. Price’s sister is a close friend of mine, and my brother is a close friend of Mr. Price’s.”

The maid arrived with a glass of brandy before anything further was said.

Min took the glass from the maid. “We shall need some cold compresses.”

“Right away, my lady.” The maid departed once more.

Min addressed their hosts. “While I understand everyone’s curiosity, I think it’s best if we let Mr. Price rest until the doctor and the bonesetter arrive.”

“I agree,” the marchioness said. “I shall have Marguerite sit with him to attend to his needs.” She glanced toward another maid, who was rather dour faced.

“I will be staying with him,” Min said firmly. “As I said, we are friends, and it will probably do him good to have someone he knows at his side.”

Evan could find no quarrel with that. In fact, he didn’t want Min to leave.

The marchioness frowned. “Still, Marguerite should stay in case you need assistance, or perhaps I should send Mrs. Ogilvie down.”

Min exhaled. “Just what do you think might happen between me and Mr. Price in his current condition? Furthermore, he is like a brother to me. There is nothing for anyone to be concerned about with regard to propriety. Think of me as his sister providing care in his time of need.”

“This isn’t exactly a secluded place,” Evan put in. “People are in the library all the time. I guarantee you, I’m in no condition to do anything but drink brandy and perhaps sleep, although I don’t think the latter is possible in my current state of extreme pain.”

Min sent him a concerned glance.

The marchioness seemed to consider their arguments, and ultimately, an expression of defeat passed over her features. “Very well. I shall still ensure a maid checks in regularly, in case you need something.”

“That would be most appreciated,” Min replied. “For now, if you could clear the room so that Mr. Price may rest until the doctor and bonesetter arrive. I think that would be best.”

Min did not wait for their hostess to respond. She turned her back to the marchioness and held up the brandy. “Do you need my assistance to drink this?”

“I don’t think so.” He took the glass from her, his fingers grazing hers. A quick but wholly shocking jolt of awareness shot through him. First, the inappropriate thoughts outside, and now this. How hard had he hit his head?

Evan sipped the brandy, careful just to not down the contents. “I don’t suppose the brandy bottle is nearby. I foresee needing that when the doctor and bonesetter arrive.”

“Yes, that is probably true,” Min replied. She turned to ask Marguerite if she could provide a bottle of brandy, or perhaps whiskey, if there was any to be found.

Marguerite slid a glance toward Evan and gave him the very slightest nod, her eyes narrowing in what appeared to be a commiserative manner. “I’m sure I can find some whiskey,” she said in a quiet tone to Min.

Evan would not have guessed the maid with the sour expression might be his savior, proving that one should not judge someone based on their appearance or their demeanor.

After Marguerite left, Evan said, “We may have an ally in the household.”

Min’s brow arched. “Time will tell.”

The room was soon empty of everyone save Min. Evan closed his eyes briefly with relief. “Thank you for doing that.”

“Well, you need your rest,” Min said. “Enduring the doctor and the bonesetter will be quite taxing, I’m sure.”

Evan grimaced, which again reminded him that his head felt as though he’d been in a fight and lost. “Let us not speak of it. I’m trying not to think of my disappointment or how angry I am at myself. I confess I’m not looking forward to whatever comes next.”

“We should perhaps try to remove your boot,” she suggested, moving toward his foot.

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” he said.

“You may be right. The bonesetter will likely want to cut it off.”

Evan moaned. “These are my favorite riding boots, and they were not inexpensive.”

“Better to have a new pair of boots than to lose an appendage,” Min said.

He blinked at her. “I’m not in danger of losing my bloody foot.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I am not an expert in such matters, and neither are you.”

“I changed my mind,” he said. “You are far too depressing to stay. You should go as well.”

Min shook her head with a faint smile. “My apologies. I am merely concerned. I’m sure everything will be fine. You don’t even know if your ankle is broken. Let us not get ahead of ourselves. We shall wait for the doctor and the bonesetter to examine you. In the meantime, I will stay here, and we will not speak of such things.”

That would be best. Evan already knew that he wouldn’t be allowed on horseback any time soon. He scarcely went more than a few days without riding. He would miss Merlin and the feats they accomplished together more than he could contemplate.

Min moved back to his head, then pulled a chair next to the settee and sat down beside him. “What shall we discuss while we wait?” she asked.

Evan looked about the extremely floral room with its bright, feminine colors. “I suppose we could converse about the decor. There’s plenty to say about it.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that.” She looked about the room. “I wouldn’t think this color scheme would be appealing to you, whereas I like it.”

Evan turned his head despite the pain, to see if she was being serious. She was.

“I had planned to roast the décor.” He wrinkled his nose and regretted doing so for the pain it caused. “It’s awful.”

“I beg your pardon.” She sounded affronted. “Pink is a lovely color. My suite at Henlow House is decorated in pinks. Indeed, the sitting room is quite similar to this. I suppose I can see where it may not appeal to you. What would you prefer? Brown? Perhaps a dark, muted blue?”

“In fact, my bedchamber back home in Wales is decorated in blue and chestnut brown. I don’t really know what chestnut brown is—and don’t tell me it’s the color of a chestnut. Who pays attention to such things? But that’s what my mother calls it.”

Min laughed. “So, you take issue with this room because of the color. The excess of flowers doesn’t bother you?”

“Oh no, I find that equally appalling,” he said. “I suppose you like them?”

“I do like flowers, but I’ll allow that this is perhaps a bit too fussy. That is what it shares in common with my sitting room, which my mother decorated.” She made a disagreeable face that somehow made her more attractive, not less. Yes, he’d definitely sustained a major head injury. The doctor could not arrive soon enough.

 “Thank you.” He sipped his brandy. “You are quite putting me at ease.”

“I am happy to do it.” Min clasped her hands in her lap. “If I can spend the remainder of the house party here with you instead of fending off rogues, I will count myself lucky indeed.”

“Then embarrassing myself horribly and potentially breaking my ankle was all for a good cause,” he said.

She gave him a smile that lit her eyes to an astonishingly silvery hue. “I think that is the best way for us to look at it, don’t you?”

Evan could not disagree. He just hoped his ankle wasn’t broken. It was bad enough that he’d suffered a mind-scrambling head wound that was causing him to look at his friend’s sister in an altogether different light.

He needed to remember what she’d said—that he was like a brother. That reminded him of what he’d said to her last night. “Why is it I’m like a brother to you today, but when I offered my brotherly services yesterday, you declined?”

“Because I don’t need your brotherly help. You, on the other hand, require my sisterly management.” She gave him a stern but lively stare.

He wanted to argue, but the truth was she was right.

Chapter Four

Min stepped gingerly into the ladies’ library not long after the bonesetter left. The doctor had arrived first, and she hadn’t stayed while he’d examined Evan. She had, however, lingered in the library and strained to hear what was happening, particularly when the bonesetter arrived. That was how she knew that Evan had sustained a mild concussion as well as a sprained—not broken, thankfully—ankle.

Closing the door behind her, Min walked toward the bed where Evan now rested, his head elevated by several pillows. She’d heard the commotion of the bed being brought down when the doctor had arrived. He’d decreed that the settee was not a sufficient place for an examination, particularly for the bonesetter. The doctor had also insisted that Evan have a bed in this room on which to recuperate, as he should not be transported upstairs.

“I know you’re there,” Evan said without opening his eyes.

“Do you know who it is?” Min asked as she looked down at him.

“Of course, I do.”

Min couldn’t imagine how he could. “And how is that?”

“You always smell like violets,” he replied, his eyes still closed.

“How do you know what violets smell like?” She snorted. “You aren’t even sure what color chestnut brown is.”

His mouth lifted into a half smile. “I believe your brother once mentioned that you wore the scent of violets. I may not know what violets smell like, but I know what you smell like.”

Shock and heat bloomed in Min’s chest. She’d felt twinges of awareness around him earlier—a few charged moments that confused her—from something he said or the way he looked at her. It had made her wonder if Evan had done more damage to his head than he realized. She supposed he had, since he’d sustained a concussion. However, his concussion would not be responsible for her sudden and perplexing reaction to him. Min reasoned that was due to the drastic situation. He’d been in danger, and she was caring for him.

It was nothing but that.

“How is your head? Has the medicine helped?” Min asked. The doctor had provided a headache tonic as well as a salve that was to ease the pain in his foot.

“It’s slightly improved,” Evan replied. “But my ankle still throbs like the devil, even after three tumblers of whiskey.”

Min’s brows shot up. “Three? I should think that would help a little.”

“Have you ever had whiskey, Min?” He opened his eyes and turned his head toward her.

“Once or twice.” She shrugged. “Perhaps ten times.”

“Ten times?” Surprise brightened his dark eyes. “Do you nick it from your father’s study?”

“I used to,” she said. “The last couple of glasses came from Sheff. I think we were lamenting about our meddlesome parents. Whiskey always helps those conversations.”

Evan smiled. “I can imagine. Now that Sheff is married, all their attention can be directed upon you and your matrimonial prospects. I’m surprised your mother isn’t at this party.”

“She’s busy in Bath, and I don’t mind her absence one bit.” Min glanced at the round table that had been moved somewhat close to the bed. All the furniture had been rearranged to transform the library into a bedchamber. A bottle stood on the table, and she’d noted an empty glass on the smaller table next to the head of the bed. “Would you like another glass of whiskey?”

“Not until I eat something. Marguerite was going to bring me some biscuits.”

Min noted his boots on the floor near the foot of the bed. One was in pristine condition, though muddy, and the other had been cut apart. “I’m sorry about your boot.”

“It’s a travesty,” he moaned. “The marquess did offer to buy me a new pair since I sustained my injury entertaining his house guests, but I declined.”

“That was nice of him to offer,” Min said. “Who is your boot maker in London?”

“Those boots came from Cardiff, and they are my favorite. No one makes boots as well as Leather Davis.”

“His name is Leather?”

Evan chuckled. “No, that is just what we call him. His name is David Davis, which, as you can imagine, is confusing.”

“I should say so, but then you Welsh people, with your lack of a variety of surnames and unpronounceable language, are very confusing.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” Evan said, closing his eyes once more and shifting his head so it faced upward instead of toward Min.

“How do you feel about your new lodgings?” she asked.

Evan made a noise in his throat. “It’s better than walking up the stairs, especially if I keep my eyes closed. At least the bedclothes aren’t pink or floral.”

“Neither are they blue or brown,” Min noted, eyeing the stitched ivory coverlet. “I shall find something in those shades to ease your discomfort.”

He cracked another brief smile without opening his eyes. “That would be most welcome.”

Marguerite entered carrying a tray with tea, cakes, biscuits, sandwiches, thick slices of bread, and a rather delectable-looking hunk of cheese.

“Here you are, Mr. Price,” Marguerite announced as she set the tray down on a table. “I see your nursemaid has returned.” The maid gave Min an approving nod.

Evan opened his eyes and regarded Marguerite. “She has indeed. Min, would you mind pouring out?”

“Not at all,” Mins replied, moving to the table.” I see there are two cups. I think Marguerite must have expected me to be here.” She smiled at the maid.

“You did say you would return,” Marguerite replied. “Not that you went far. Weren’t you in the library while the doctor and bonesetter were here?”

“I was.” Min cast a glance toward Evan, who was looking at her.

“You were?” he asked.

“I wanted to know what was going on,” Min admitted as she poured out the tea. “I don’t know how you take your tea.”

“Milk and just a hint of sugar.”

Min made his cup as directed, then added milk and twice as much sugar to hers. She turned to Marguerite. “Thank you. Where will you be if we need you?”

“Not far,” the maid replied. “I’ll come back and check on Mr. Price at regular intervals. Lady Bath has assigned me to his care, in addition to you, of course, Lady Minerva.” She turned and left the library.

Min transferred one of everything from the tray onto a plate and brought it to the small bedside table along with his tea. “There we are. Do you need any help eating or drinking?”

“I think I can manage that, since neither activity requires my foot.” He glanced down at his left ankle, which—though covered by the bedclothes—appeared to be surrounded by a box of some kind.

“May I look?” Min asked. She was most curious as to what the bonesetter had done. Evan’s grunts, and occasional yelps, of pain had been rather distressing to hear. However, Min did not want to point that out for fear he would be embarrassed.

“Certainly, but I must caution you that my leg is bare. They had to cut off my stockings and the lower portion of the leg of my breeches.”

His warning gave her pause, but her curiosity won out. She carefully lifted the bedclothes and moved them to expose his ankle. Evan’s lower leg was strapped into a wooden box contraption that surrounded his calf and foot on three sides, as well as the bottom of his foot. Bandaging was wrapped tightly around his ankle.

She looked up and met his gaze. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“Not being able to move is difficult, but I’m to keep my ankle as still as possible for the rest of today and all of tomorrow.”

“And what happens the day after that?” she asked.

“I am still to wear the box, but I can move. With help, of course,” he added. “The bonesetter will send a wheelchair as soon as he can.”

Min imagined how Evan might do certain…activities until he could move. “But you’re going to have to move before then. How will you take care of your…needs?”

He arched a brow at her. “What needs are those?”

“Changing your clothes. And other…things.” She pulled the bedclothes back over his foot. “I refuse to elaborate.”

“Marguerite is to help me with clothing and my other requirements. But it is kind of you to ask.” A smile teased his lips. “I would not have asked you to help with such things.”

“Well, no. That would not be appropriate. Even for a sister-friend,” she murmured.

“Definitely not for a ‘sister-friend,’” he agreed. “Whatever that is.”

Min picked up her teacup and saucer from the table and returned to Evan’s side, where she perched on the chair. She sipped her tea as Evan reached for his cup.

Setting her cup and saucer down hastily, she moved to assist him. “Let me help you with that.” Rising, she handed him the cup and saucer and stood nearby as he sipped the brew.

He looked up at her. “You needn’t hover.”

“I suppose not.” She sat down. “When will you be allowed to walk?”

“In a week—so at the end of the party.” He exhaled with disappointment. “Even worse, I can’t ride for a month.”

She arched a brow at him. “I’m surprised you’re eager to ride again after what happened. You aren’t afraid? Or nervous?”

“Not at all. I’m worried Merlin will miss me or that we’ll forget how to do something since we aren’t practicing.” Evan would miss riding Merlin. He looked forward to when he could walk to the stables and at least spend time with him.

“I’m glad you can walk in a week’s time. That’s much better than if you’d broken bones.”

Evan couldn’t disagree, but it was a bloody inconvenience. “I will need to use a walking stick for a fortnight. At that time, I should seek another physician’s evaluation—wherever I am, since I will no longer be here—and determine if I’m ready to walk without assistance.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t think it’s better if you just stay at Longleat until you are completely healed? Lady Bath told me she hoped you might do that. She feels terrible that this happened.”

“She did make that offer to me, and the marquess also encouraged me to stay as long as I like. However, I don’t know that I want to be cooped up here after the party is over.” He looked about the ladies’ library with faint distaste. “Being stuck in here during the party is bad enough.”

“Where would you go after this?” Min asked.

“I’m supposed to go to Bath.”

“Are you?” Min hadn’t known that. “Why not London? Don’t you have a position with the Treasury you ought to return to?”

He sipped his tea. “My presence is not required at the moment.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why is that?”

“My father has asked me to consider standing as MP for a vacant seat.”

“A member of Parliament,” Min said. “Does that interest you?”

“Perhaps,” he replied somewhat enigmatically before sipping his tea again. He moved the cup toward the table, and Min reached to take it from him and set it down. He picked up the plate of food without her assistance.

Min found it odd that he was away from his position at the Treasury for so long—first in Weston last month, now here, and then he would be going to Bath. “Why are you going to Bath? Not for the Marriage Mart, surely.”

He replied between bites. “My mother has taken a house there for the autumn.” He took another bite and swallowed before continuing. “She asked if I would join her for a while.”

“It sounds as though she may want you to participate in the Marriage Mart,” Min teased. “Are you prepared for that?”

After swallowing another bite, he gave her a rather devilish grin. “Always. But she knows I am not ready for matrimony. Particularly if I’m to focus on taking a seat in Parliament.”

“That sounds like an excuse my brother would have made before he met Jo,” Min said with a low laugh.

“Call it an excuse if you like, but it’s the truth. I am not ready to wed, and to do so would be…irresponsible. Or at least disingenuous to a bride looking for a groom who is utterly devoted to her.” He popped the last bite of bread and cheese into his mouth and made an expression of pleasure. His eyes closed briefly, and his lips curled into an almost sensual smile. Heat coiled in Min’s belly, much to her consternation.

She focused on their conversation instead of her inane reactions to Evan. “It sounds as though you’re saying you aren’t currently capable of devotion. Marriages don’t necessarily require that. Just look at my parents,” she noted wryly. While she’d observed that many marriages lacked a truly deep, romantic connection, Min knew that such a union would not be sufficient for her.

“You are correct about the first part. I am not prepared to fall in love.” He set his empty plate on the table next to the bed. “I don’t know the details of your parents’ union, but I know enough from Sheff’s comments and from rumors that they, ah, detest one another.” He gave her an apologetic look.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. Direct your pity at them. They are the ones living in an unhappy situation.” Her shoulder twitched.

Evan stared at her. “Is that why you’ve hesitated to wed? It is, isn’t it? You keep every suitor at bay—rogue or not—because you’re afraid you’ll end up like them.”

Min felt as though someone were standing on her chest for the barest moment. How had he seen through her when no one else had? Save Ellis, who knew Min almost as well as she knew herself. Recovering, Min managed to take a deep breath. “I haven’t ‘hesitated.’ I’ve refused every suitor because they were all rogues or roguish.”

“Isn’t your father a rogue?” he asked.

“I would describe him as such, yes.” She abruptly turned, hoping to end this conversation. “Shall I fetch a book to read to you?”

Evan snagged her elbow, his warm hand closing around her bare skin. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Min faced him, but he did not immediately release her. The moment stretched as they looked at one another. She was wholly aware of his touch. And not just where his flesh met hers.

This was becoming inconvenient. She could not develop an attraction to her patient, let alone her friend’s brother who was a known rogue. Or at least had roguish tendencies.

As if he had come to the same conclusion, he let go of her arm and withdrew his hand to his side. He then picked up her new topic of conversation. “What book?”

Good. This was better.

“What would you like?” Min moved to the nearest bookcase and opened the glass door.

“Whatever you choose will be brilliant, I’m sure.”

“Do you like horror novels?” she asked. “There are quite a few here.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever read one,” he replied. “You must promise to read it with a gloomy pitch.”

Min laughed softly as she plucked a book from the shelf. “The Mysteries of Udolpho is quite entertaining. Utterly far-fetched and dramatic. Truly horrible.”

“That sounds perfect.”

As Min returned to the chair, she met his gaze once more. Again, she was besieged by a fluttery feeling in her belly.

This was an unusual situation, she reminded herself. There was nothing more to it than that.

Return to Until the Rake Surrenders

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