The Rogue’s Troublesome Bride (Unconventional Brides #4)

Chapter 1

London

Being in love was highly overrated.

In Lady Sophie Carlisle’s case, it meant twitching every time someone walked past the doorway of the drawing room where she was visiting with her best friend because there was the slightest possibility that the person could be the subject of her unrequited affection: Mr. Nicholas Blackwell.

Sophie was tragically besotted and not very good at hiding it. If she didn’t know this fact already, the sympathetic glance from Lady Kate Blackwell—her beloved’s sister-in-law—would be enough to make it clear.

“Stop jumping at every noise,” Kate said, her hand pausing over the sketchbook she was drawing in. “It won’t make Nicholas more likely to appear.”

Sophie feigned nonchalance as she flipped through the pages of her music book until she found a song she knew. “I blame you for the awful state of my nerves. You made falling in love look far more appealing than it actually is.”

Kate and her husband, Lord Theodore Blackwell, were disgustingly smitten with each other. No one who saw them together could possibly doubt their devotion, and the secret smiles they sent each other had made Sophie long for the same.

No, she didn’t want Theodore himself. He was far too reserved for her.

But his brother would do nicely.

“The ideal scenario is to fall in love with someone who returns the sentiment.” Kate’s voice was soft, making Sophie glad that she hadn’t met her friend’s gaze. She didn’t think she could stand the pity she might find there.

She knew that Nicholas didn’t feel for her as she did for him, but she did her best to ignore that. If she acknowledged it, the constant ache in her chest might become unbearable.

Sophie shrugged delicately. “I have never been one to do things the easy way.”

Kate laughed. “That’s true enough.”

Angling her face toward the window, Sophie basked in the sun streaming through and warming her skin. It was only spring, but all traces of winter had disappeared days ago. Many said it would be a long, hot summer, which Sophie wouldn’t mind at all. She preferred the warmth.

She skimmed her fingers over the piano keys, settling them into position, the familiar pose as easy as breathing.

“Have you met any gentlemen of interest this season?” Kate asked. In her peripheral vision, Sophie noticed that Kate’s hand had begun to move again. “Any marriage prospects?”

Sophie grimaced. Ugh, as if it weren’t frustrating enough that her mother constantly hounded her about choosing a suitable husband.

Kate no doubt meant well. She just wanted Sophie to be as happy as she was.

But Sophie couldn’t simply extinguish her feelings for Nicholas and choose to focus them on someone who might actually marry her.

“Not in particular,” she said, then allowed her fingers to fall into the rhythm of the song she’d chosen. Too late, she realized it was a romantic ballad.

Lord, was there to be no mercy for her poor battered heart?

Determined not to show her regret, Sophie gritted her teeth and breathed deeply. She could get through this song without shedding a tear. There was no reason to sink into the emotional state she usually occupied while playing. She could keep this mechanical.

Her heart throbbed, heavy and tight, and she swallowed, a lump burning down the back of her throat.

Everything was fine.

She was fine.

There was no reason to fall apart.

The song’s melody flowed around her, encircling her like a persistent suitor, prodding at her weak points and testing her armor for defenses.

It was difficult to resist the urge to let the music sweep her away. Usually, she didn’t bother trying, so her ability to withstand the beauty and richness of the notes wasn’t as strong as she’d like.

Finally, the song ended. She immediately yanked her hands from the keys and closed the music book.

“May I see what you’re working on?” she asked, turning toward Kate.

Kate’s lips pursed as she looked down at the sketchbook. “Not until it’s finished.”

Sophie cocked her head. “Really?”

It was unusual for Kate to keep her art to herself. Usually, she had no problem showing Sophie her sketches or clothing designs.

Kate nodded. “I need to get it right first.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What is it?”

Kate glanced up, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “I’ll tell you once I have everything in order.”

Intriguing. Sophie got up from the piano stool and padded over. Kate closed the sketchbook as she approached and tucked a loose lock of reddish-gold hair behind her ear.

Sophie sat, giving her plenty of space. “I wouldn’t rush you. I wasn’t trying to pry. I just like to be well-informed, as you surely know.”

Kate’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And what’s another?” Sophie asked with an arched eyebrow.

“It wouldn’t be polite to say.”

Sophie laughed. “Politeness, or lack thereof, does not bother me, but I’ll let you remain silent on the matter.”

Footsteps clipped down the corridor outside, and Sophie perked up, instantly looking over on the off chance that Nicholas had finally decided to show himself.

Instead, it was Theodore, his harsh features softening as his gaze alighted on Kate. Cradled against his chest was their son, Oliver, his eyes closed and his adorable thatch of dark hair sticking up a little.

Kate set her sketchbook aside, rose from the chaise, and walked over to them. She kissed her husband on the lips, and Sophie averted her eyes, her cheeks heating from the intimacy of the moment. It felt like she was seeing something she shouldn’t.

Few society couples were openly affectionate with each other, although she supposed things might be different within the privacy of their own homes.

“Hello, Ollie,” Kate cooed, and Sophie looked back in time to see her kiss the top of Oliver’s downy head. She stood close to Theo, and the three of them were the perfect portrait of familial contentedness.

Sophie’s heart squeezed. She wanted that.

Specifically, she wanted it with Nicholas, and she had no idea why he was so determined not to wed when he could see for himself how happy marriage had made his brother.

Theo was a wonderful husband, and she had no doubt that Nicholas could be, too, if he’d allow it to happen.

Oliver burbled and reached for Kate, his pudgy little hands grasping at the fabric of her dress.

“Can you help the nanny put him down for a nap?” Theo asked Kate. “I’m due for a session at the House of Lords shortly, and he wouldn’t settle for her.”

The little boy seemed settled enough to Sophie, but perhaps that was because he was now getting attention from both his parents. Perhaps he’d only been playing up because he wanted them.

“Of course.” Kate took hold of Oliver, and Theo passed him over. She positioned him on her hip and turned to Sophie. “Sorry to leave you, but I’ll return soon.”

Sophie waved dismissively. “No need to hurry. Ollie takes precedence.”

Kate nodded, and she and Theo left the room side by side.

Now alone, Sophie settled onto the piano stool once more. She’d been working on a new composition—a lively song intended for dancing—and she played the first few notes and debated how best to harmonize them.

She tried several combinations, considering each and discarding the ones she disliked. When she’d decided on an option, she started over from the beginning, concentrating on listening as much as playing.

Only a couple of seconds after she finished, there was a knock at the door, and she flinched, her hand flying to her chest. She’d been so absorbed that she hadn’t heard anyone coming.

“Oh!” She spun around, her mind struggling to catch up as her gaze landed on the figure in the doorway. He was tall and elegantly dressed, with dark hair, dark eyes, and features that might be similar to Theo’s were their harshness not softened by a well-groomed beard and a friendly smile.

Her heart leapt and her pulse went haywire. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, but she swiftly remembered when spots appeared in front of her eyes.

Lord, she was such a mess.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that song before,” Nicholas said as he sauntered into the room with the type of confidence exuded by men like him.

Rakes.

Rogues.

The exact sort of man she ought to stay away from but who never failed to fascinate her.

“I made it up,” she admitted, her cheeks warming again. Silently, she cursed her pale complexion. Combined with hair that couldn’t be called anything other than red, her milky white skin showed the faintest flush, making it impossible for her to keep any of her emotions to herself.

Nicholas’s lips parted, and a rush of air escaped. “Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have my utmost respect. It was beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

I wish he’d say I was beautiful.

She kept the shameful thought to herself.

He perched on the arm of the chaise and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Have you gotten yourself into any trouble lately?”

She folded her hands primly on her lap. “I’m a proper lady, good sir. Of course I haven’t gotten into any trouble.”

He snorted, his almost-black eyes glittering. “You couldn’t be one hundred percent proper if you tried. That’s part of why I like you so much.”

Liked—but not loved. It wasn’t a surprise, so she shouldn’t be disappointed, yet she was. Couldn’t he like her just a little bit more?

Needing a distraction, she eyed him from head to toe. He was dressed in stylish riding clothes with tan trousers, brown boots, and a green frock coat just a little brighter than what most men would wear.

“Are you heading out?” she asked, deciding that was a safe enough question.

He tilted his head. “I’m riding with a few friends at Hensley.”

“I wish I could join you.” Hensley was a race course. Sophie would love to attend the races, but neither her mother nor her sisters had any interest, so she’d never had the opportunity to watch.