A Rogue's Secret - Stacy Reid Page 0,6

it was possible to marry without love, and she did not think she would ever possess the courage to risk her heart again. Loving another was a wonderful experience but suffering the loss of that love was unbearable.

Chapter 3

For the last few nights, Rupert had thought of only two things since watching Verity strolled along the lane from his home. Her elegant form stepping along with the exuberant, playful Rufus. He had hoped she would look back, but she had not, and he feared that she dismissed him as an ill-mannered oaf. He acknowledged that he had been too familiar and presumptuous. Rupert refused to regret kissing her since he wanted to kiss her again and do a lot more. He was convinced underneath her respectable exquisite exterior, she would be a sensual, voluptuous delight. There was fire beneath her loveliness, and he dwelt on imagining some very indecent scenes with her spread for his delectation on his bed.

His thoughts had been carnal and delicious, but they had meant that he had slept poorly as every time he fell briefly asleep, he was discovering her charms in a most improper manner. His wayward dreams of her seduction had not concentrated only on her charms but had moved onto more domestic tableaux with her at his side, surrounded by their children, Rufus, more dogs and even a couple of cats.

Rupert had laughed himself awake at that fancy, only to realise that he never had seriously considered marriage and children as something to be desired in the next few years. He’d always thought at least ten more years as a bachelor, unless he met someone he had to marry. Even giving himself a sharp talking to had failed to destroy the warmth he felt in the concept of besotted marital bliss with Verity at his side and especially in his bed.

The other thought that had obsessed his mind was the meaning of the riddle sonnet. He had cursed his late great-uncle Frederick and his enigma.

“I think I could accept there was so little money and just knuckle down to try and make the estate come around, with so little income if my great-uncle had not hinted so often that there was a treasure. This poem just feels like he is teasing me with something out of my reach…” He had told Farrant after insisting he joined him in a glass of brandy as if they were co-conspirators of a similar rank.

The old man had protested that it was not fitting, but finally consented and had sat perched on the edge of a chair, sipping a glass of the former baron’s best brandy with his new master.

Farrant shuffled and coughed as the fiery liquid reached his throat; he was not used to drinking spirits, like the nobility. “I understand, my lord.”

“Found a folio of his poetry though. Poetry is not my taste, but I think some of it was rather good. I read through every line, but none of it relates to the treasure, and from the fading of the ink, I think they were all written when he was a young man. If we ever find the treasure, I should publish a discreet edition of his verse. Perhaps leaving out some of the er, love poetry.” Rupert stood and refilled his glass, topping up Farrant’s, who protested once more.

“I’m not used to strong spirits, my lord. The late baron would have been most displeased if I had been stealing his brandy.”

“I doubt it, he was a fairly lax employer and would have probably appreciated your companionship as much as I do.”

“The late baron would not have thought so. He always kept the proper distance between master and servant, and we thought that was right. However, I think he would be proud if you published his poetry, sir. If I may say so, sir, that is not getting us any further to finding the treasure, and from what you were saying about the estate’s finances you will need it, especially if your thoughts are leaning towards young Lady Verity.”

Rupert stood surprised at his underling’s perspicacity. He laughed because he should have expected it. The servants always knew their masters’ business before society caught up.

“I have only just met Lady Verity.”

“It has been more than two days my lord, and I’ve seen you looking toward the garden with a smile on your mouth. I do not believe it was the treasure you thought of.”

Rupert smiled. “I do not think she was that impressed with