A Rogue to Ruin (The Pretenders #3) - Darcy Burke Page 0,19

ask if he recognizes you as a visitor to his estate nearly thirty years ago when you were a child?” Squinting one eye at him, she stepped closer, her gaze fixing on his right eye. “You do have the orange spot, and that has been there your entire life. I suppose it’s not impossible he may recognize that one defining mark.”

“I haven’t decided what to say. Perhaps you’ll be the one to say something. You’d prefer to be with me when I speak with him, yes?”

She inclined her head. “I would, thank you.”

“This is our shared past, Lina. You may not remember any of it, but they were your parents too.”

“I wish I remembered something more than a coral necklace.” Her hand went to the coral flower pendant she wore that was so very similar to the one that had belonged to their mother.

“Perhaps Ivy Grove will spark a memory for you,” Rafe suggested.

She laughed lightly. “I was two and a half years old when the fire took our parents. It’s a wonder I recall the necklace at all.” She grew serious again. “What about the church in Croydon?”

“I thought perhaps we might stop tomorrow on our way to Ivy Grove.”

She hesitated. “Harry will be with me.”

Rafe understood what she wasn’t saying. “I’d rather it was just you and me. I’m not asking you to keep secrets from him, just that we go alone.”

“Thank you. We’ll go another day? Soon?”

“Yes.” Rafe smiled at her. “Sheffield is a lucky man.”

She shook her head. “I’m the lucky one. I hope you will be too—someday.”

“I don’t need to fall in love to feel fortunate.” He didn’t need to fall in love at all. Not again.

Anne flashed through his mind like a lightning bolt. He was momentarily blind. Until he blinked.

“Mrs. Sheffield, your first guests have arrived.”

Rafe blinked again. “I’ll be going.” Pivoting, he froze as Anne walked into the room with her sister; at least Rafe was certain it must be her sister, Lady Colton.

Anne’s expression flickered with surprise, and Rafe hoped Selina didn’t catch it. Except his sister was deuced observant. Such was the learned skill of a successful pickpocket.

“Good afternoon, Lady Colton, Miss Pemberton,” Selina said warmly. “Allow me to present my brother, Mr. Raphael Bowles.”

Raphael was the name he’d taken to make “Rafe” sound more sophisticated. When he was eight, he’d met a man named Bowles who’d owned a posh gaming hell. Expensively dressed and well-spoken, he’d impressed the hell out of Rafe.

“Good afternoon,” Lady Colton said. She was a couple of inches taller than Anne, and her eyes were darker, a true brown with none of the green that made Anne’s hazel. Their blonde hair was also slightly different somehow, not in color, but in liveliness, which made absolutely no sense when it came to describing hair. Nevertheless, the word completely embodied Anne’s curls, which often escaped their assigned style to graze her forehead, cheek, or neck. All places he wanted to kiss.

Hell.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bowles,” Anne said, nodding demurely, though he was certain there was nothing demure about her.

Rafe bowed. It was one of the few things he remembered that his father had taught him. “The pleasure is mine. I beg you to excuse me. I’ve no desire to disrupt your meeting.” He smiled before moving past them.

First, however, he caught the intense look in Anne’s eyes and the slight parting of her lips. She wanted to say something more, but he wasn’t going to give her the chance.

Only, Anne was quite persistent. “Will we see you at the picnic at Ivy Grove tomorrow?”

Rafe looked back at her and her sister. Of course they would be there. If Colton had prompted the event, it made sense they would be invited too. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it.”

Anne’s mouth lifted into a provocative smile. “I am too.”

Leaving before Anne said or did anything else that would stir Selina’s curiosity, Rafe stalked from the house. He needed to think about the picnic, about what he would say to Stone.

Except Anne would be at the picnic too. And damn him if that didn’t make the event all the more enticing.

As Anthony helped Anne from the coach at Ivy Grove, she looked up at the gray sky. “I fear it may rain.” She hoped the picnic wouldn’t be canceled. Or that Mr. Bowles—Raphael?—hadn’t decided not to come.

Anthony frowned as he cast his gaze toward the heavens. “It looks that way. Let us hope your godfather has a contingency.”