Read Online Going Rogue by Jessica Jefferson - Free Book Online

second act yet.”
    He smiled warmly down at her. “I must insist. You’ve taken a nasty spill and I’d feel better knowing you were at home resting safely.”
    Meredith didn’t argue. The evening hadn’t turned out at all like she’d expected, but could be salvaged easily enough by the thoughtful attention of a rich, unattached man . No weak knees , she thought regretfully as they made their way toward the lobby. But her head still hurt, which meant she was at least capable of feeling something .
    “I do wish you’d had the chance to meet the Earl tonight. He appeared to be genuinely concerned over your recovery,” Lady Marshall said, sounding wishful. “Such a thoughtful gentleman.”
    Meredith noted Ophelia’s silence.
    “Perhaps she still can,” Garrett remarked, nodding in the direction of a tall man dressed in black.
    “There he is again,” Lady Marshall exclaimed, clapping her hands together, walking toward him. “Let’s go say hello, shall we?”
    Meredith followed the small troupe as they made their way toward the Earl who was busy conversing with another man she didn’t recognize, a novelty for her. Despite still being several yards away, she could see just how spot-on Ophelia’s description had been.
    Nearly half a head taller than Mr. Marshall, and at least a stone heavier, Lord Sutherland’s physique alone was impressive. His shoulders were broad and his fine, black coat tapered to a trim waist. Then he turned around.
    His dark hair was mussed, just as Ophelia had described it. He smiled at them, bright white teeth in sharp contrast to the sun-drenched bronze of his skin. He obviously enjoyed a great deal of time out at sea and such a life appeared to agree with him—tremendously so.
    Men like Lord Sutherland reeked of danger. Their good looks didn’t just hint at the possibility of ruination, they guaranteed it.
    Their group finally reached the men and Lord Sutherland looked away for a moment, shielding his features from closer inspection. “Miss Castle, this is Lord Sutherland.” Mr. Marshall made the introduction, releasing her from his grasp.
    “Miss Castle,” the man replied, bowing deeply.
    She curtsied. As she was bringing herself upright, she allowed her gaze to travel up his chest and meet his eyes.
    They were blue . . . the color of cornflowers.
    Derek Weston was standing in front of her, a charming smile on his face.
    Suddenly, the air was sucked from the room and her knees buckled. Garrett reached out to catch her and she steadied herself against him.
    “I told you we needed to get you home,” he scolded gently.
    She waved her hand at him, refusing to succumb to the sensation that the floor had just been ripped out from underneath her. “It was nothing.”
    “Are you all right, Miss Castle?” Derek asked—the perfect gentleman. He knew good and well that she wasn’t all right .
    She fisted her hands, fighting the desire to reach out and slap that charming smile off his face. “I’m fine,” she answered curtly.
    “I don’t believe you,” Garrett disagreed. “Something’s obviously wrong.”
    “Nothing’s wrong,” she answered, this time a bit more coolly. “In fact, I’d love it if we could all just go back and finish the opera. I’d hate to miss any more of it. I do so love The Marriage of Figaro .” She’d do anything to get as far away from Derek as possible.
    “You’re confused. It’s not Figaro,” Ophelia corrected. “It’s The Barber of Seville — Il barbiere di Siviglia.”
    Meredith smiled stiffly, her nostrils flaring. “I love that one, too. Shall we get back now before we miss anymore of Regina?”
    “The ward’s name in the opera is Rosina , not Regina,” Ophelia interjected. “Perhaps you’ve hit your head harder than you thought.”
    “Of course it is. How silly of me,” Meredith returned, silently imagining herself wringing the know-it-all’s pretty little neck.
    “Yes, let’s stay,” Lady Marshall thankfully agreed.