Rosilee had spent years collecting books and filling their library to the brim with volumes of every kind. Some of her fondest memories had been lived within that room, especially the ones where her brother was lost in his scribbles while she, too, escaped into her favorite worlds.
How could Leopold be so foolish?
And that ruffian Baston!
The man was a true villain! He’d been sniffing around her skirts for the better part of a year, and now, it seemed he had duped her brother into a wager. Why else would Leopold, who never touched cards, lose all they held dear? Stars, the thought of Baston living in their house, eating at their table, and sullyingherprecious library gnawed at her heart. But she would not succumb to despair. No, she needed a plan, and she needed it posthaste.
“He is here, my lady,” Miss Evangeline Green, her trusted maid, and her closest confidant, murmured.
Rosilee turned back to face the entrance of the estate. As if on cue, the sound of hooves filled her ears, and her gaze fell onthe figure approaching on horseback. The devil himself. A wave of distaste swept through her at the sight of him. Even from this distance, she could tell his dark eyes glittered with a malevolent gleam, and his smirk was that of a man who knew he held all the power.
This blackguard.
Rosilee clenched and unclenched her fists. “Leopold is not with him.”
Beside her, Evangeline harrumphed. “It seems Mr. Baston will not show any good faith.”
“Indeed, it certainly is on par with his character.”
The irksome man drew to a halt before them, his smile widening.
“Lady Rosilee,” Baston drawled as he dismounted, his boots crunching on the gravel as he approached her, further grinding her nerves. He doffed his hat with a smug bow, his eyes never leaving hers. “I am flattered that you received me in person.”
“Don’t be,” Rosilee snapped, the man’s gall grating on every nerve in her body. “This is not me receiving you, sir. This is me barring you from entering.”
His smile didn’t waver. “That is rather discouraging, I admit.”
Rosilee’s hand clenched around the letter, her knuckles burning as she held his gaze. The color of his eyes reminded her of dirt. Much like the man. Fortunately, he wasn’t that much taller than she was. If she stood on her tiptoes, they might even be the same height, which made him somehow less intimidating. Like a toad. An ugly toad. “That’s good, then, since it’s meant to be discouraging. Have you come to gloat?”
Baston chuckled, a low, oily sound that made her skin crawl. “I would never be so crass, Lady Rosilee. I’ve come to offer you a boon.”
“A boon?” She arched a brow. “Is it poisonous?”
He clamped a hand over his chest. “Now you are just breaking my heart. Rather, it’s a solution.”
Ever theatrical. Could she spit at his feet in answer? “Do tell, sir. I’m brimming with anticipation.”
His smile widened, revealing too many teeth. “You can keep your estate, but there is one condition.”
Rosilee’s heart sank. “What is this condition?”
Baston stepped closer, invading her space, the stench of his breakfast still on his breath. She averted her face. Urgh. She would be off sausage for the rest of her life.
“Marry me.”
Rosilee froze for an instant, the her gaze whipped back to him. The sheer audacity of the proposal rendered her speechless. Then, she let out a laugh—sharp, bitter, and utterly devoid of any humor. “Marry you?” she repeated as if the words themselves were too ridiculous to be real. “I would sooner throw myself into the Avon than be shackled to a man like you.”
His expression darkened, the smile fading from his face. “You would do well to consider your options, my lady. Your brother has no means left to provide for you. You’ll be destitute, homeless—”
“And I would still be better off than I would be as your wife,” Rosilee cut in. “I’ve no desire to be bound to a man who preys on the misfortune of others. My brother may have been tricked by you, but I will not be.”
Baston’s jaw tightened, a vein ticking there. “You have a sharp tongue for a woman in your position, Lady Rosilee. But remember, I hold the fate of your future within the palm of my very hands.”
Hah! Her fate? He could no more hold air than he could her fate! “Do not make me laugh, sir. My life is mine to govern.” Rosilee lifted her chin, her gaze steady as steel. “I will never be yours, Baston. I would sooner beg on the streets.”
The man’s eyes raked over her, assessing, calculating. Finally, he stepped back, his smirk returning, accompanied by an edge that hadn’t been there before. “Very well,” he said softly. “It’s unfortunate, but your brother shall have to remain as my guest while you take some time to think over my proposal.”
With that, the man turned on his heel and strode back to his horse. He mounted and rode off without so much as a backward glance.
