Page 117 of Rogue of My Heart

She woke Christian briefly, deep into the night, whispering to him that she had to return home before anyone suspected anything, but to have Lord Garvagh in place by the springhouse early the next afternoon. Christian was still so exhausted that all he did was hum and nod and let her kiss him soundly—then kiss him again when that kiss proved to not be enough—then tiptoed back to his window and climbed down to where her bicycle was waiting. She’d let Christian’s servants discover the ladder against the window the next morning and think what they would. Perhaps a new hint of scandal would be just the thing she needed to push Christian over the edge into chasing his own matrimonial desires instead of sticking to his father’s ridiculous idea of a match.

By sheer force of luck, Marie was able to return home and sneak up to her bedroom in the wee hours of the night without anyone spotting her. She tried to sleep once she was home free, but her mind wouldn’t let her. It turned over her plans to force Lady Aoife and Lord Garvagh together, and once she was certain her plot was fool-proof, it buzzed on with ideas for how she and Christian could be married as soon as possible, in spite of the strictures of mourning that Christian was obligated to observe for his father and brother. When she finally did fall asleep as the first rays of dawn were peeking over the horizon, it was with a smile on her face.

“Did you enjoy your lie-in?” Shannon asked late the next morning, a knowing grin pulling at her mouth, when Marie joined her sisters in their family parlor.

“I did,” Marie answered with a happy sigh.

“I’m sure she especially enjoyed the lying part,” Colleen added with a smirk, stabbing a needle into the embroidery she was working on.

Marie didn’t even try to pretend her sisters had the wrong way of things. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said after striding across the room to pluck a scone from the tea tray sitting on a table between Shannon and Chloe. “I have a very important call to make.”

“Let me venture a guess,” Shannon said. “Are you about to grace Lord Kilrea with your company?” She arched one eyebrow.

“I’d wager she already did that and more last night,” Colleen muttered.

Marie’s sisters exchanged looks that dissolved into mischievous giggles.

“For your information,” Marie said, biting into her scone, then chewing to heighten the expectation of the moment. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was or how good the scone would be, but she went on regardless with, “I am paying a call on Lady Aoife.”

“How curious,” Shannon said, looking as though she genuinely meant it. She darted a look to Colleen, then said, “Be sure to pay your respects to her brother on Colleen’s behalf while you’re there.”

“You will not!” Colleen snapped, face flushing.

“If you do, tell me everything about how Lord Boleran looked when you gave him Colleen’s regards,” Chloe said, stars in her eyes.

“You will do no such thing,” Colleen nearly shouted.

“I doubt I’ll have time to see Lord Boleran at all,” Marie said, finishing her scone as she strode across the room to the door. “Although I have it on good authority someone will need to pay a call on him later today to explain why his sister’s engagement has been called off.” She flickered her eyebrows cunningly.

Shannon sat straighter with an impish glint in her eyes. “Good heavens, you aren’t thinking of running off with Lady Aoife yourself, are you?”

Marie laughed at her sister’s teasing and headed out to the hall. If she had her way, Lord Garvagh would do the running off with Lady Aoife before the afternoon was over.

It took no time at all for her to fetch her bicycle from the stables and to ride the handful of miles to Boleran Hall. By the time she reached the grand and modern estate, it was lunchtime. The day was unusually sunny and bright, and as it had the added advantage of being balmy, Marie wasn’t surprised at all to find Lady Aoife taking her luncheon outside on a lovely patio that stood in the middle of a well-tended rose garden. The sky was a vibrant blue, the grass around the garden was vivid in its shades of green, and the roses burst forth in every color from red to coral to yellow, sending the most delicious scents into the air. The only colorless, drab thing in the picture was Lady Aoife herself.

“Lady Marie, this is a surprise,” Lady Aoife said, rising uneasily from her luncheon table and adjusting her black skirts so that not a wrinkle showed. “Have you…have you come to dine with me?” The poor woman looked genuinely flabbergasted and disturbed by Marie’s presence. Though that might have had something to do with the letter that lay open on the table beside her plate. She snatched it up and folded it hastily, tucking it into the waistband of her skirt.

“I’ve not come to dine,” Marie said, feigning an air of urgency that was part of her plan. That act faltered for a moment as she glanced across the deliciously pink ham and herb-sprinkled vegetables on Lady Aoife’s plate. Her stomach growled, but there was no time to stop and eat. She took a step toward Lady Aoife, reaching for her hands. “Lady Aoife, my dear friend. I need you to come with me at once.”

“Come with you?” Lady Aoife blinked rapidly, her face coloring. “Is something the matter? Is it…is it Lady Kilrea?”

Marie had planned to use a different excuse—one involving a puppy in need of help—but if Lady Aoife wanted to write her own script for the prank, then Marie would go along with it.

“Yes,” she said. “You must come with me to Kilrea Manor at once.”

“Of course.” Lady Aoife stepped away from her lunch, following Marie quickly and willingly as they crossed through the rose garden to the side of the house where Marie had left her bicycle. “Has she expired?” Lady Aoife asked, her voice high and tight. “Or has she recovered?”

“There’s no time to lose,” Marie said, hurrying on.

“Should I prepare myself? How is Lord Kilrea faring?” Lady Aoife wrung her hands, looking genuinely distressed.

Marie frowned over the woman’s concern. It was ridiculous for her to think she was the only one who had a right to worry about Christian, but she allowed herself that bit of ridiculousness. Christian was hers, and soon the world would know it. “You’ll see,” she said.

“Should I have a carriage brought around? Should I inform my brother that things have taken a turn?”

They reached the side of the house and Marie’s bicycle. Frustration got the best of her. Of all the times for Lady Aoife to suddenly start talking and asking questions.

“We’ll take my bicycle,” she said, grabbing the handlebars and pulling it around to point toward the drive.