Page 31 of A Remarkable Rogue

Sydney set her cup aside and reached for her fan. The tea may have been cold, but she suddenly felt rather warm.

So did Olivia Everett, apparently, based on the way she flushed every time St James cast glances in her direction.Interesting. The rake and the schoolmistress…whoever would have thought?

It was a devilish pairing. Perhaps one as mad as a baroness and an army captain.

“Lady Rowland?” Charles Langley, Marquess of Hawking, stood next to her chair and frowned down at her. Then quietly, in a concerned voice, he asked, “Sydney, my dear, are you unwell?”

She blinked. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t noticed the meeting breaking up around her and the others rising to move about the room to make their goodbyes. Including St James, who excused himself with an explanation about being needed by his mother at Harlow House.

With a touch of embarrassment, she gave Lord Hawking a smile as she rose to her feet. “I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.” A bit?Ha!If she were any more distracted, she’d forget her own name.

He kept his voice low. “I worry about you.”

“I’m fine, Charles, truly.” She reassured him by giving his arm a quick squeeze. “But I am grateful as always for your concern.”

“It’s more than just concern.” His eyes moved around the room to make certain no one paid them undue attention. “You know I care about you.”

She did. That was one of the most endearing aspects of their friendship and one she dearly appreciated. “You’ve always been a great support whenever I’ve needed one.”

“That’s why it frets me that you spend so many evenings alone and so much time at Barton’s.” Concern shone in his eyes…along with something brighter. “If you’re in need of company or help, I am always available to you.”

Her heart skipped. She’d been propositioned by enough men to know one when she heard it, no matter how gentlemanly delivered.

Oh, she liked Charles. He’d always been kind to her, and she’d always had the utmost respect for him. But sharing his bed was an invitation she would never accept. They would never be that kind of friends, and she needed to remind him of that.

So she gave him an overly bright smile and gently patted his arm. “You are such a dearfriend.”

Hawking took her hand and raised it to his lips, the gesture oddly rakish for a man in his late forties who had become a fixture in Parliament in recent years and a patron of such stodgy organizations as the Royal Society. “I think you realize,” he murmured, “that I consider you more than simply a friend.”

There was certainly no confusion what he meant bythat.

It was time to put an end to this.

“I’m sorry, Charles.” She chose her words carefully, wanting to discourage him but not embarrass him. Hewasa dear friend, and she wanted to keep him that way. “But I don’t think it’s wise for us to be anything more.”

The warmth vanished from his eyes. “Are you saying it’s a mistake to deepen our feelings for each other?”

Oh no…“Please understand. I’m very grateful that you are here for me whenever I need you.” She gave him a softened look of feigned regret. “But what a shame it would be to ruin such a wonderful friendship by doing anything that might cause you to think less of me.”

“Ah, you misunderstand. I’m not proposing you become my mistress.” He chuckled lightly at the idea. “Nothing of the sort!”

Wasn’t he? Heavens! Apparently this whole business with Nate Reed had confused her to the point where she couldn’t read men at all anymore. She felt like such a goose! She sighed with chagrin. “Well, that’s—”

“I want you to become my marchioness.” Earnestness filled his voice. “We’re both alone now in our lives, and as you said, we’re dear friends. We’d make a good marriage, and I wouldn’t worry so much about you if you were at my side.”

He was…proposing? Her mouth fell open. She had no idea what to say except, “I-I couldn’t possibly…ruin our friendship with marriage.” She had no intention of ever marrying again, not even to a man as fine and dear to her as Lord Hawking. “Besides, I need good friends now more than I need a husband. I hope you can understand.”

A strained smile pulled at his lips. “I hope you will reconsider and give me the chance to win you over.”

She said as gently as possible, her heart breaking for him, “I won’t.”

“Very well.” He released her hand with a grimace of regret. “Still, you cannot fault a man for trying.”

“Not at all.”

His smile remained in place, but she knew the exchange had cost him a great deal of pride. With a nodded goodbye to the room in general, he sauntered into the hall toward the front door to take his leave.

Sydney drew a deep breath of relief. She didn’t realize until that moment that her hands were shaking.