Page 2 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)
Madelaine sighed. “I know.” Why couldn’t her one voyage into freedom and the glorious unknown be longer?
“Now stop worrying. We’ll be back at the townhouse long before my father.
He’ll never know we were anywhere but Bond Street shopping for ribbon and all the other ridiculous things girls are supposed to love. ”
“I do love ribbon.” Abby twirled a strand of her brown, curly hair around her finger.
Madelaine patted her friend. “I know, darling. I can’t for the life of me figure out why.
You’re so sensible in every other way. But because I love you so, I left you all my best ribbons in your room.
” The fact that it had been an utter relief to leave the ribbon behind didn’t matter.
Abby had a gift for twining ribbon in her hair while Madelaine had a knack for somehow getting it knotted in her hair.
“You won’t forget me, will you?” Madelaine’s throat suddenly ached with emotion.
Abby clutched Madelaine’s arm tighter as they strolled toward the first row of vendors.
“I would never forget you, Maddie, with or without the ribbons. But next time I see you, I daresay you’ll be a proper lady, likely betrothed to a handsome man you meet at Court, and you’ll probably not wish to talk to the housekeeper’s daughter any longer. ”
Since she’d never been very good at being a proper lady, Abby’s prediction wasn’t likely to come true.
She held in a sigh. She wanted a husband, but she didn’t want to pretend to be someone she wasn’t to get one.
Yet, she knew she was odd, and her father wanted her married, no matter the pretense she employed.
“I’d never forget you,” Madelaine swore as she stopped under a pretty tree blooming with pink flowers. Perching on the ledge of the stone wall that surrounded Golden Square, she inhaled the unfamiliar sweet scent. “Let’s sit for a moment and take it all in, shall we?”
Abby nodded and sat beside Madelaine. The sadness that had pressed against Madelaine’s chest since her mother’s death felt lighter here in the square.
The lightness was short lived. Tomorrow Father would deposit her at Court where he demanded she find a proper husband to marry.
Not even her usual stalling tactics had talked him out of it.
“No dallying,” he said. No pressure there.
It was only her mother’s dying wish that Father had zealously embraced.
She pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples.
Tomorrow she would be a lady-in-waiting to the queen, manipulated like a puppet by the queen’s dictates.
Even if by some miracle Madelaine found a man who suited her, that wanted her in return, the queen’s opinion could sway any match to be denied or accepted.
She prayed the queen liked her. If not, life could be intolerable.
She couldn’t botch it this time. She’d failed her mother in life, but she would not fail her in her death, nor would she cause her father any more pain and sorrow than she already had.
Failing to find a husband, after he’d used his friendship with the king to secure her a position with the queen would mortify her father.
Somehow, she would become a proper lady, though the idea of spending the rest of her life only concerned with sketching, embroidering, and the pianoforte made her clench her teeth. Thank God she had today to do as she pleased. It might be her last ever.
“Come on.” She stood and brushed her skirts off. “I want to eat sticky treats, look at scandalous art, and wander over to that group shooting arrows.”
“The gypsies?” Abby’s voice hitched.
“They’re not going to rob us. It’s broad daylight for goodness sake.”
Abby stood and shielded her eyes. “We can do as you wish for one hour . I won’t have us coming in after your father.
There’d be the devil to pay if he found out we disobeyed him.
” That was an understatement. “You might be leaving for Court tomorrow,” Abby continued.
“But I have to go back to your father’s house and live as his servant. I can’t afford his wrath.”
“Neither can I,” Madelaine muttered. The last fight she’d had with her mother was ever present in her mind. Fresh regret pierced her heart and made her rub at her chest as they walked toward the smell of gooey rolls.
“This trip has been a bloody waste,” Grey growled as they made their way out of Marie Vallendri’s townhome and into the bright sunshine of Golden Square. “Who am I going to shock my father with at dinner tonight since Miss Vallendri already has a lover?”
“How about that chit right there.” Gravenhurst pointed toward a band of gypsies who’d set up a shooting booth.
“I said I wanted to shock my father, not give him a death fit.”
Gravenhurst chuckled at Grey’s side. “Look closer. See the tall, pretty brunette? From my experience women with curly hair have rousing personalities to match, and the chit may be dressed as a proper lady, but she wouldn’t be in the art district if she was.
She’s ripe for adventure. I say go pluck her. ”
“I like your thinking.” Grey studied the woman. “She’s pretty enough but see how her mouth is puckered in disapproval. She’s not here of her choosing. Likely she’d faint if I propositioned her.”
“You may be right. Perhaps you should select a new mistress from Madame Landry’s women.”
“I think not,” Grey said, distracted by the sudden shouting from the group of gypsies.
As he moved across the square and closer to the group he could hear wagers being bantered back and forth between the men and women alike.
The excited buzz of the crowd was like a drug.
He stopped by a sleek-haired gypsy with keen black eyes who struggled to take the money shoved at him while scribbling wagers in a little book.
“What’s the wager?”
The gypsy acknowledged Grey with an upward flick of his eyebrows and a sardonic smile. Grey instantly liked him. “The lady claims she can split the arrow lodged in the target over there.” The man pointed to a target so far away Grey had to squint to see it.
“Impossible. Unless the lady is built like a man. Which lady?” He glanced at the women gathered around the group. A few of them were thick in arm and might be able to do it if they’d been shooting all their lives.
“There. That fair ghel with the sun on her head.”
“The fair what with what on her head?” Grey reached into his coat and brought out a bag of coin.
“Come, I’ll show you.” The gypsy eyed Grey’s coin and then wound through the throng of people. “You going to wager?”
Was he ever. No need to go showing his excitement and get taken advantage of. “Yes, but I’ll see the lady before I decide for or against.”
“And your friend?”
Gravenhurst shook his head. “I’ll keep my funds in my pocket where they belong.”
Leave it to Gravenhurst to try to spoil the fun. Nothing could spoil this novelty though. Grey shrugged. “Sorry—?”
“Romany.” The gypsy stuck out his hand. Grey shook the man’s hand with enthusiasm.
His wasted trip was just about to become profitable and entertaining.
Toward the inner circle the man stopped behind a woman whose waves of flaxen hair tumbled invitingly down her back and marked her as the woman with the sun on her head.
He chortled at the description. What a preposterous idea to imagine the petite creature standing in front of him had the strength to wield the bow and shoot the arrow true enough to split the one already lodged in the target.
She had a right lovely round backside, he’d give her that, but he’d not give her his confidence. He jingled the bag of money with a grin and held it toward Romany who’d begun taking bets again from the people around him. “I’ll put the whole lot on the lady’s failure.”
With a gasp, the woman whirled around and speared him with a dark look as well as nearly stabbing him with her arrow. “You’re mistaken to wager against me, sir.”
There was something invitingly erotic about the pale-skinned, bronze-eyed beauty wrapped in delicate, lilac silk.
She looked dainty and helpless yet she wielded a weapon that could kill and boasted of skills no proper lady would dream of admitting.
His lust awoke in a heartbeat. This was the woman he needed to prickle his father and push him toward agreeing to secure a commission.
“I’ll be happy if you prove me wrong, yet your stature does make me question your abilities, Lady… ?”
“Miss Prattle,” she responded with a conspiratorial look at the curly-headed brunette.
“What an unusual name.” He winked to prod her and was rewarded when her eyes rounded.
“Yes, well, Lord…?”
“Drivel.” He could barely contain his amusement.
She burst out laughing, the merry sound making him smile.
“Your laugh is lovely,” he said. Instantly, she sobered, eyed him warily and turned her attention downward on her arrow.
She was right to be guarded. His blood hummed in his ears with his desire.
Forget his parent’s boring dinner. By tonight he’d have this chit in his bed.
The contradiction she presented was irresistible.
“I’ll put my money on you and give you all my winnings to make up for offending you, but if you lose, you must accompany me to my townhouse. ”
“She’ll not!” her friend exclaimed before the lady herself could reply. When the lady gave her friend a cool look, Grey had to work not to show his satisfaction. She was just as interested in him as he was in her. Today was turning out to be splendid, indeed.
“I’ll take your offer.”