Page 4 of Her Rogue to Kiss Good Morning
“I have,” he said.“I did not see you for the morning meal.”
“I don’t eat in the breakfast room,” she told him.“I usually only have toast and tea in my room.”She did not know why she told him that.He didn’t need to be privy to her usual routine.“If you wish to have some time in the garden I can leave you to it.”
“I did not mean to interrupt you,” he was fast to reassure her.“I would not wish to intrude…”
“You haven’t,” she told him.“I should go.”Clara smiled at him, but she didn’t really feel it.There was no joy in her life.All she did was go through her daily routine and keep moving forward.She wasn’t happy and had not been in some time.She was grateful for her sister’s help, but she had no purpose.Nothing to give her any sense of joy.She hadn’t been able to feel anything like it since her husband’s death.She did not mourn the man, but the future she had envisioned for herself.
“Please stay,” he said to her.“Perhaps you would be willing to keep me company.I would like to know my cousin’s new sister.”
She frowned.Clara did not know how to interpret his words.Did he sincerely want to know her because of her connection to the Duke of Sinbrough?She was the duke’s new sister by marriage, but did that truly matter to the viscount?Was this some new sort of seduction that rogues used to lure unsuspecting women to their bed?“I do not have much time,” she told him.“I have an appointment I must not miss.”
“You do?”He raised a brow.“It must be important then.”
Clara believed it to be.As a young widow she had been invited to be a part of a society of widows that were committed to helping each other.In a world dictated by men they needed each other, and she would not allow anyone to prevent her from doing that.The dowager Countess of Wyndam had been instrumental in creating that group of widows and because of Juliet’s connection to Lady Wyndam Clara had been invited to join the group.She would not let either of them down by letting this handsome gentleman waylay her.
He studied her for a long moment, as if weighing the truth in her words, then inclined his head slightly.“Very well.I would not wish to keep a lady from her duties.”His tone was polite, though there lingered a hint of disappointment.
Clara felt a small pang of guilt at his words.She did not know why she should feel that way.Did she truly hope that he would beg her to stay, even just for a few minutes?It was absurd.She had no reason to linger in the garden with him beyond the civility society demanded.And yet, the idea of leaving him behind did not sit right with her.That sharp, playful glint in his eyes and the easy confidence of his stance—made her chest tighten unexpectedly.She did want to know him, and she knew she shouldn’t.That giving in to that urge might lead to her downfall.
“Perhaps another time,” she said softly, forcing her tone into a neutral register.
“Of course,” he replied, though he did not step aside.“I shall look forward to it.”His lips tilted upward into a smile that sent shivers down her spine.It should not appeal to her.He should not appeal to her.But she was drawn to him.
Clara’s gaze fell to the carefully trimmed grass beneath her feet as she turned toward the path that led back into the house.She could not make her feet move though.She almost felt rooted to the spot as if leaving him went against everything inside of her.She glanced up at him and frowned.“I should go.”
“So, you have said,” he replied in a light tone.“Do you wish to stay?”
Lord did she… She did want to stay with him.But it was a terrible idea.One that she could not allow for any reason.So instead, she shook her head.“It isn’t that…”
“Then what is it?”he asked in a polite tone.“Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
“No,” she said.“There is nothing you can do for me.”And that was the truth… “I…” She swallowed hard.“Have a good day, Lord Oakwood.”What was wrong with her?She turned away from him and started down the path out of the garden.Every step felt heavier than it should have.She tried to remind herself that he was a man she ought to avoid, a man who would bring nothing but complications.Yet she could not shake the awareness of his presence.It lingered in her mind like a shadow that could not be erased.Clara did not like it.Not one bit…
“You are quite beautiful, Lady Cocwood,” he called after her, his voice carrying over the soft rustle of the garden leaves.“And I daresay, even the finest roses pale beside your radiance.”
She froze, a flush rising to her cheeks.How did he do that so effortlessly—turn a single sentence into an accusation against her resolve?She did not answer, only quickened her steps, her sensible shoes making soft, determined taps against the gravel path.
Inside, she paused for a moment at the threshold of the drawing room, gathering her composure.She could not allow herself to be drawn into this dangerous game.Lord Oakwood was not for her.She could not allow his charm and daring nature to draw her in.He was the type of gentleman that could challenge a widow’s restraint and see her reluctance as a challenge.She would not be caught unguarded, not after the bitter lesson life had already taught her.
And yet, as she smoothed her skirts and adjusted the delicate lace at her neckline, a small, undeniable part of her could not stop thinking of him.Of the curve of his mouth when he smiled, the faint glimmer of amusement that never left his eyes, the very aura of him that seemed to suggest the world was his for the taking.Perhaps, she thought with a dangerous shiver, he desired her as much as she—unwittingly and unwillingly—found herself drawn to him.
Her resolve stiffened.She would not be a casualty of temptation, nor would she allow herself to make another foolish decision.As she swept down the corridor toward her room to retrieve her reticule, she could not deny that a part of her heart lingered in that garden, with him, daring her to turn back.
Somewhere deep inside, Clara knew that the day she finally allowed herself to meet his gaze fully—without hesitation, without pretense—would be the day nothing would ever be the same again.That day would be her undoing.Because then she would give in to what she secretly desired.Something she had thought she had excised from her soul.The need to feel passion and an even greater desire for someone to love her, and for her to love in return.She doubted that the viscount could be that man, but a small part of her would always wonder.What if he was and she denied herself the opportunity to have her secret desire fulfilled.What if she lost a chance at true happiness.
All of that would plague her, but she had to remain steadfast in her resolve.The viscount was not for her.How could he be?There was no future there, and if she kept telling herself that perhaps she would come to believe it.
Three
The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of the sitting room, casting warm pools of light across the Persian rug and the delicate dishes perched upon the tea table.Clara settled into the familiar embrace of the settee, smoothing the folds of her lilac silk gown with meticulous care.Across from her, Juliet, ever radiant and composed, poured the steaming tea with practiced elegance.Clara could not help envying her sister.She seemed to have everything.She had a husband that adored her and a life that any woman would want for herself.She was not an exception to that at all.Clara had thought she had found it with her late husband.What a fool she had been to believe he would be her everything.She had been a blind fool.At least he had not lived long enough for her to suffer his incompetence.She hadn’t thought that at the time.When he had died, she had been devastated.Though her devastation should have been at the loss of the man she believed she loved.But no… Life wasn’t that simple, was it?She had realized rather quickly that with his death her life had taken a turn no woman wishes to find herself in.She had been immediately destitute and homeless.That was when her infatuation had turned to despair and a little hate for her late husband.
“You really must try to take better care of yourself,” Juliet said, her voice gentle but firm.“You are looking rather pale.What is bothering you?”
Clara inclined her head with a faint smile, though it did not reach her eyes.“I assure you, my dear sister, I am well.You need not worry about me,” she murmured, though the day had weighed heavily upon her spirit.Widowhood had not grown any lighter over the past few months.She hated her life.Though she knew it could be far worse if not for her sister.“Nothing is on my mind.”At least nothing she would bother her sister with...
Juliet narrowed her gaze.“Why don’t I believe you?”
She shrugged.“I cannot say.But I do not lie to you.I am well enough.”Well enough for a woman dependent on her sister’s husband for her home and income.She had to get her sister off of this topic.The last thing she wanted to do was have Juliet realize how unhappy she truly was.It wasn’t her fault that Clara felt unsettled.Juliet and the duke had been wonderful to her.“I met with Lady Wyndam today,” she told her.
