The Love of a Rogue (The Heart of a Duke #3)(8)

Imogen shifted her shoulders, her lower back aching from the stiff position they’d been in since Lord Alex had invaded the library. “Can’t we simply announce ourselves?” she mouthed.

Chloe frowned her into silence and gave her head a brusque shake.

She reached for the morning copy of The Times. Her friend flicked her hand and she winced. “What was that—?”

“Hush,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips.

Imogen settled back in her seat. By the clink of glass touching glass, Lord Alex Edgerton intended to stay, and would probably get himself soused. In a library. By himself. Which likely meant she was stuck here for as long as her friend decided they were to be…well, stuck here. Or, until the gentleman drank himself into oblivion. Imogen had little experience on the matters of overindulging gentleman and their intoxicated states. “This is silly,” she mouthed. Though in truth, she’d spent too many days since William’s betrayal being a sad, somber lady she no longer recognized. A renewed thrill surged through her as she embraced the lighthearted woman she’d once been—even if but for a moment.

Chloe slapped a finger to her lips. “Sometimes he speaks to himself.” She leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “I’ve gathered some rather useful pieces of information.”

The “he” in question was none other than Chloe’s brother. Not the respectable Marquess of Waverly, but rather, the other brother who’d moments ago mumbled something about lobbing his chaperone’s arm off. Though why he had a chaperone she’d be hard pressed to guess. He was also one who likely broke hearts and if he betrothed himself to a lady, broke that very important tie and….

A growl escaped her.

Chloe slammed an elbow into her side once more.

“Ouch—”

“Hullo, ladies.”

They shrieked and, in unison, jerked their heads up. Lord Alex leaned over the edge of the sofa. Imogen stared at the upside down, grinning visage of the notoriously rakish gentleman. With a day’s growth of beard on the harsh, angular planes of his cheeks, he peered down at her through bloodshot, green eyes, likely from too much drink and carousing. She really wished she’d not noticed what a splendid specimen of a figure he was for she’d already learned the perils of those rakish, handsome sorts. As though noting her perusal, Lord Alex winked. Heat slapped her cheeks and Imogen jerked her head forward.

“Alex!” Chloe exclaimed, jumping up. With far greater reluctance, Imogen came to her feet beside her. “Whatever are you doing here?” For her flare for the dramatics all these years, she was a dreadful actress. “I had no idea you were here.”

Lord Alex unfolded to his full, towering height, glass of spirits in hand. “By here, do you mean in this library where you were before I made my entrance?”

His sister swatted him on the arm. “You’re unpardonable.”

A half-grin turned his firm lips up. An odd, fluttery sensation danced in Imogen’s chest and she was grateful when brother and sister launched into a familial discussion on who was the more bothersome Edgerton sibling. She used the distraction as a moment to study him; this rogue sought after by all manner of scandalous ladies. Where her former betrothed had been lean and possessed of a golden perfection, Lord Alex Edgerton could not be more different than the duke who’d broken her heart. More than a foot taller than her own five-foot three-inches, Lord Alex’s muscle-hewn frame had the power to command a room. Whispered about by all the ladies, innocent and otherwise, there was nothing proper or respectable about the bachelor. With his seductive winks and sly grins, he represented folly. As though feeling her gaze upon him, Lord Alex slid his stare in her direction, assessing her through thick, hooded lashes. Imogen’s heart quickened. Folly, indeed. She gave silent thanks when Chloe said something calling his attention back.

Just then, he tossed his head back and bellowed with laughter. The subtle movement sent a strand of black hair falling over his brow. She angled her head and took in the gentleness of his eyes as he conversed. This man she’d only known to be a rogue proved himself to be something more—a teasing brother. She’d learned to protect herself against the rakish types. This loyal, devoted stranger was an altogether different matter. With his regard for Chloe, Lord Alex chipped away at some of the cynical, preconceived notions she’d carried of him these past years.

Imogen forcibly thrust back the thoughts that might soften her to the notorious rake. Instead, she fixed on that midnight lock over his eye. Dark like sin, a voice whispered. A sad smile turned her lips at the corner. Then, a gentleman more golden than the legendary Apollo had betrayed her. She waited for the familiar twinge of pain. But it did not come.

Lord Alex looked to her once more and issued a belated greeting. “Lady Gwendolyn,” he bowed. “A pleasure as always.”

“Imogen,” she squeezed out through gritted teeth. Was she invisible to everyone?

“If you insist on such informality then, Imogen,” he said with another one of those wicked winks.

She opened her mouth and closed it several times. The scoundrel had merely tricked her into giving him leave to use her Christian name. A bounder, indeed. Why did her heart kick up a beat?

Lord Alexander reclaimed his seat and reached for a partially empty bottle of brandy. He tipped it and proceeded to fill his empty glass.

Imogen widened her eyes. Why…why… He intended to sit and indulge in spirits. Here. Now? And refer to her by her Christian name? “But…”