Never Tempt a Rogue: A Rogues' Rulebook Novella Read Free

book.”
    “Interest in the book will wane, Uncle.” No, definitely not living it down anytime soon.
    Forsythe reached for the door and pushed it wide, halting just inside the high-ceilinged entryway. “Your aunt wishes you to do more. Rather than wait for interest in the book to fall off, why not remove your name from it? Distance yourself from the publication altogether?”
    Alex loathed the notion more than the prospect of plucking a wife from a sea of unfamiliar faces on two week’s acquaintance. He, Gray, and Max had conceived the book together. Abandoning his own choices to take on the duties of being a viscount might be inevitable, but he wouldn’t betray his friends too.
    “That’s not an option. If I choose a bride from among these young women, she’ll have to accept that she’s marrying a rogue.”

CHAPTER TWO
     
    “Anything else, miss?” The young maid hovered near the doorway of the elegant bedroom suite assigned to Felicity. Amy had been given the room next to hers, with furnishings just as sumptuous and a lovely view out onto the estate’s gardens.
    “No, thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” Felicity had tried to aid the girl as she unpacked their belongings, but she’d moved like a whirlwind. In a quarter of an hour, all of Amy’s clothing, shoes, and other accoutrements had been sorted out and stowed away again in an enormous carved wardrobe. Since her own case was brimming with more books than attire, Felicity insisted on unpacking by herself and managed it in short order too.
    In addition to the dozens of items ordered from the modiste for Amy, Uncle Huntingdon had also insisted on providing a few fine dresses for Felicity to wear as she performed her chaperone duties. She stroked a finger along the velvet trim on the bodice of her new rose-hued day dress. Luxury hadn’t been part of her life as a physician’s daughter. After her mother’s death, the duties of preparing meals, cleaning, maintaining her father’s medicinal garden, and assisting him to transcribe notes and attend to patients had become her main concerns. At thirteen years old, she’d dreaded taking on the household chores, but learning to cook had proved to be a surprisingly enjoyable adventure.
    “Shall we ring for tea?” Amy bounded into Felicity’s room, cheeks flushed and eyes aglow, though she’d only left the girl moments before in the company of their hostess and a few of the other young ladies who’d arrived in the morning. Lady Forsythe had favored Amy by asking her to take a chair next to hers, fussing about how much she looked like her late mother and inquiring about her sisters.
    “You look giddy, my dear. Did you meet other guests downstairs?” It wasn’t so much that she distrusted her cousin. Only that Felicity had seen how the girl floated toward mischief like a moth seeks a candle’s flame, unaware of the danger.
    “Oh, just a few of the young ladies,” Amy assured, her eyes wide and voice childishly high. “You remember Penelope, don’t you, from the Osterley ball?”
    Felicity didn’t recall a Penelope, but she knew her cousin was hiding something. Beyond Amy’s round eyes and squeaking voice, she couldn’t hold still. Bouncing on her toes, the girl kept one arm fixed at her side.
    “What’s that?” Felicity pointed to a slip of paper Amy clutched flat against the palm of her hand.
    “This?” She lifted her hand but kept the writing on the letter concealed under her fingers. “Just a note.”
    Fortunately, Amy was a terrible liar. Felicity could see through all of her fibs, but she still hated playing the role of disciplinarian.
    “May I see it?”
    Several moments passed as Amy debated, casting her eyes at the carpet and then up at the ceiling. Finally, she huffed out an irritated sigh and thrust the folded note toward Felicity. “Please don’t scold me, Fel. I didn’t ask him to send it.”
    On the single half sheet of foolscap, Felicity found a bold, haphazard