A Scoundrel All the Way (Wicked Widow’s League #19)

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

DECEMBER 8, 1826 ~ LATHAM MANOR, SUSSEX

R owan set his valise down on the bench at the end of the bed and looked around the guestroom at Latham Manor . It wasn’t the first time he’d been to the Latham’s country home, but it had been several years. Frankie had made many changes and improvements—not only to the furnishings but to the colors. The diverse shades of blues, whites, greens, and yellows created a cheerful and bright ambiance throughout the home. He wondered if Frankie would be open to offering him some advice about his neighboring estate. Then again, he suspected that his mother and sisters would want to participate in the Sussex property and might be upset if he asked another.

Rowan sighed as he noted that his shaving accouterments were neatly laid out next to the wash basin in the bathing closet. His trunk had been tucked into the corner next to the armoire where all his clothes were hanging—pressed and organized according to form, function, and color. His valet, Yardley Conners , had arrived a day ahead, along with his trunk. Rowan was still getting used to the efficient young man with the perpetual smile who seemed to be one step ahead of Rowan when it came to seeing to his needs. His mother had insisted that he hire Conners as befitting his new station in life. It still made him uncomfortable. Rowan had spent years roughing it on military campaigns to operating with only a cook and a maid while he was an agent in France . Occasionally , having a valet made him feel like he was a young boy again whose mother picked out his clothes. However , as his responsibilities grew, so did his appreciation for Conners .

Rowan pulled back the dark green silk drapes covering the windows and surveyed the grounds below. It appeared the yard had already been set up for a game of croquet. The grounds were beautiful. Holly bushes of every size and shape, lush with red berries, lined various corners of the grounds outside his window. Dotted among them were tasteful white winter roses, as well as other colder-season flowers and shrubs, all in full bloom.

He watched as Frankie and Thomas walked outside, holding hands. He felt his chest tighten with a pang of regret as he observed the happy couple. He wondered what it would be like if he had the kind of wife who could bring the same warmth and comfort to his home as Frankie did for Thomas . A true partner to shoulder life’s burdens as well as joys… But he reminded himself decorating was hardly a reason to marry. Besides , he’d had years of experience behind him, recruiting and training soldiers and agents, leading missions, and conducting investigations. He could certainly manage his own homes.

However , he found out that when it came to coordinating his clothing, he was hopeless—especially when it came to choosing colors beyond black or brown. His mother had warned him years ago to be cautious about mixing those colors. Rowan immediately took a liking to Conners , a young valet hired by the old earl for the London Townhouse . Yet , judging from Conners’s constant disapproving muttering under his breath whenever Rowan made any clothing choices, it was clear that Rowan’s lack of taste persisted.

As he continued to stare out the window, a black coach and four drove up and stopped in front of the manor. A footman opened the door to the carriage, and a young woman emerged, followed by her maid. Even from this distance, Rowan’s sharp eyes could see every detail about her. Her shoulder-length brunette hair framed her delicate face in airy, loose curls. She wore a deep purple velvet pelisse that covered a coordinating satin dress. Although she was petite in height, he couldn’t help but admire her slender curves as she moved. The purple shade of her ensemble enhanced the rich coffee color of her dark hair. Her eyes were dark as well, fringed with thick lashes, as she gazed about her in curiosity. The woman, although young, seemed more mature than a typical debutante, which made him wonder if… Bollocks ! He’d been here less than an hour, and he was already trying to decide who might be his next conquest. Although , in this case, she didn’t exactly seem the type. Too wholesome. The kind of woman a man would marry. And he was certainly not in the market for a wife.

As Rowan continued to observe her, he heard high-pitched squeals of delight followed by Katie Soren and her cousin Paula rushing out to meet the brunette and enveloping her in a tight hug. Rowan’s breath hitched as he watched her transform from pretty to stunning. She beamed at her friends; her smile was radiant, her laughter lilting. After a few moments of excited chatter, the women linked arms and made their way to the entrance. The brunette was clearly a dear friend of both Katie and her cousin Paula Gowans . Intrigued , he wondered who she was. He would find out soon enough. He smiled to himself as he turned away from the window.

An hour later, Rowan had washed and changed into a riding jacket and breeches that Conners had laid out for him. The young valet had relayed a message from Latham and Slice , saying they had decided to take a ride since Nelson and the other guests wouldn’t be arriving until much later. They asked Conners to tell Rowan they would meet him near the ruins of the old castle at the north end of the estate.

Eager to feel the wind in his hair and the chill in the air, he headed to the stable, ready for an invigorating ride in the crisp winter weather. Smiling , he remembered that just beyond the castle was a cavern with a lake,a good place for a cold morning swim. He and his friends used to visit the spot when they came home from Eton on breaks. They’d tie up their horses and swim in the cold lake. If he missed them at the ruins, he’d still count the ride as a win.

Twenty minutes later, he spotted Slice and Latham heading towards the cave. Spurring his horse on, Rowan soon caught up to them.

“ I figured I’d find you two here,” he said, grinning and leaning down to gently rub the neck of his stallion. “ Any idea how cold the lake is today?” he teased.

“ If you’re thinking of jumping into that frigid water, I will stand here and watch you…and tell whoever has to dive in after you where you disappeared,” Latham returned, laughing. I’d have a hard time explaining my wet self to my wife.”

Slice held his hands up. “ Katie would wring my neck.”

“ Same goes for Frankie ,” Latham added.

“ You’re both declining because of your wives?” he baited. “ What happened to your sense of adventure?”

“ Yes . We’re no fools. We get plenty of adventure with our wives,” Latham laughed. “ I plan to enjoy myself while I’m here.”

“ However , if you’re eager to go for one of your ‘icy swims,’ be our guest,” Slice added. “ But don’t ask us to warm you up if you catch a chill.”

“ Wives certainly come in handy for that.” Latham winked. “ It’s brisk out here and Frankie insists we’ll get snow.”

Rowan rolled his eyes at his friends. For some reason, he couldn’t help but imagine the sweet brunette beaming up at him, those brown eyes crinkling up at the corners as she wrapped her arms around him after a swim. Damn . He hadn’t had any female companionship since well before he left France . “ All right. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea. Although , I disagree about the snow. The air feels too dry.”

Latham shrugged. “ I’ve not known Frankie to miss on a snow prediction yet. She said last night’s moon had a halo around it, and she noticed birds flying lower to the ground and livestock clustering closer to the barns and similar places for shelter.”

“ I suppose I was just feeling restless, and this place made me think of the fun we had in our youth. Besides , Conners will probably never let me forget it if I ruined this pair of Hessians . I doubt I’d want to foxhunt in my dress pumps.” Besides , it had been his experience that women were keen observers of things that men barely noticed. And he’d never known his mother or twin sisters to get caught outside in a snowstorm or a downpour. They kept a wary eye on the weather when it appeared to be changing.

“ I was wondering,” Rowan began, wary of how his query might appear to his friends. “ I saw a woman arrive earlier, a brunette with curly hair, petite, wearing a purple pelisse…

Before he could say much else, his friends chuckled.

“ Ah ! You must mean Lucy Jeffries , a friend of Katie’s ,” Slice said. “ Or I suppose she’s Lucy Tenet now since she’s widowed.”

“ Only a few guests have arrived as of yet,” Latham said. “ She’s the widow I mentioned would be attending. Poor girl. Had a bit of bad luck the past few years. Her parents forced her to marry by proxy. A fellow named Dirk Tenet . Claimed he was a diplomat. Turned out to be a jewel thief who was shot and killed while trying to rob a bounty of jewels from the home of a British officer stationed in India .”

“ She’s not had it easy, as far as the ton is concerned,” Slice added. “ They’ve been brutal for the sake of a headline,” Slice said. “ She was labeled by the rags as Unlucky Lucy , and the ton never fails to remind her of it.”

“ Poor girl,” Rowan said. He meant it. He did recall the story. His mother and sisters had written to him about Lady Lucy Jeffries . For a young woman who’d been ridiculed, she seemed to possess a certain inner strength that he’d found admirable. When Latham mentioned the proxy marriage, the story had clicked for him. He’d only caught a glimpse of her, but he wanted to know her. What was it about this beautiful woman that attracted trouble? “ Is she the only widow present?”

It was an innocent question—one Rowan tried to make sound casual, detached. But Slice and Latham hooted. “ Fine . I had to ask, although I’m glad I could entertain you boys.” He grinned. “ So , what’s next on the house-party agenda?”

“ We’re expecting a few more guests throughout the day into tonight. Frankie’s planned an informal dinner, as some guests will probably arrive tired and wish to take their dinner in their rooms. Tomorrow morning, we’ve organized a fox hunt.”