Page 10 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
The only woman who had ever done so, and had left him on tenterhooks waiting to see how she’d reply to his comments or jokes, had run from him the first opportunity she had rather than consider an arrangement between them.
In the year since their encounter, Finlay had tried to pinpoint what it was about the woman that kept her fresh in his memories. She had been a would-be maid of no consequence and no connections to speak of. In annoyance, he had reminded himself why an association with her would have been folly, but she continued to dominate his dreams as surely as any celebrated beauty.
Her serene, bluish gray eyes flashed through his mind, bringing with them memories Finlay indulged only when he was alone in his bedchamber. “Sadly, I’m not certain she exists.”
“When you finally run for Commons, you will have your pick of all the eligible ladies in society. Although, it may be better to select a bride beforehand, for she will most definitely be an asset to your campaign.”
Finlay’s heart stuttered. “What are you talking about?”
Flora frowned. “You’re standing for the Weobley seat.” She arched a brow. “Are you not?”
“I had not decided.”
“Why not?”
“With everything that happened last year, I worried the scrutiny would…prove too much.”
Finlay didn’t dare voice the scandalous truth he’d discovered about his birth, but then, Flora was privy to the events that had led to his father’s exile. She knew of the horrible secret, and when she dropped her gaze, he knew she understood his wariness.
“Plus,” he continued, “even if I were serious about standing for the seat, I don’t know where to start.”
“The by-election is approaching quickly. Did you plan to attend the soiree my brother and I are hosting at Campbell House tomorrow night?”
“Errr.” He frantically tried to recall receiving an invitation from the Marquess of Inverray.
Lady Flora tapped her crop against her leg. “It’s to raise funds for Little Windmill House, the foundling home my brother founded.”
Now Finlay remembered. He had not planned to attend the gathering, although he had written instructions to his secretary to write the home a respectable donation. Alethea would have expected it.
Clearing his throat to offer his response, Lady Flora cut him off with a wave of her hand. “If you are serious about standing for Weobley, you must attend.”
He narrowed his eyes, his curiosity peaked. “Imust? Why?”
“You will need allies. Connections within the party. Why would any party member support you when they know nothing about you other than your father was a notorious majority hardliner? From my understanding, Abernathy is also standing for the seat.”
Hope sank down to his toes. Geoffrey Abernathy’s father was a onetime friend of his father’s. The man’s word and opinion carried a good deal of clout amongst majority MPs. Abernathy’s contacts all but guaranteed the conservatives would throw everything they could into the race to ensure he was elected.
Several curses bounced around his head, and Lady Flora nodded as if she could hear them. “Niall knows what he’s about. If he likes you—which I don’t see why he wouldn’t—he’ll connect you with the gentlemen whose support will grant validity to your campaign.”
Clamping his jaw, he fixed his gaze on a pair of squirrels frolicking about a tree a short distance away. As they hopped amongst the foliage, Finlay considered Flora’s words. If he was serious about his desire to represent Weobley in Commons, he couldn’t win the seat on his own.
Abernathy’s name made him stifle a sigh. He’d known the man at university, and while he had a sharp mind and a clever wit, he was also a boor and a prig. No doubt the man considered the race all but secured, and a vision of the man’s gloating blue eyes had Finlay snarl, “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Four
“Mrs. Taylor, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you fidget so. Whatever would the young ladies in your deportment class think of your behavior?”
With an effort, Charlotte managed to drop her hands from where she clenched them before her waist. Her fingers felt stiff and foreign. “They would understand that sometimes uncomfortable situations bring out our insecurities, but we must rise above them and see to our duty.”
“You view an evening in Grosvenor Square, socializing amongst theton, as seeing to your duty?”
A scowl threatened to break through her composure, but the effort of containing it proved too much for her tongue. “Naturally. How else am I to view it?”
Lady Flora Campbell twisted her mouth into a considering pout before she nodded. “Events such as these can be entertaining…or a dash uncomfortable. I wish Inverray had not held it.”
“I thought the evening’s festivities were your idea.” Charlotte swallowed a smile at the disgruntled expression that marred her employer’s visage.
“Details, Mrs. Taylor. Details. I may not want to be here, but I understand that we can do so much for Little Windmill House if we mine the connections we have amongst the elite and accept outside donations.” The Scotswoman leaned in close. “But it doesn’t mean either of us has to like it.”
