Going Rogue by Jessica Jefferson

to?”
    “Twice! Things are progressing along quite well. Of course, he lives on the coast, so we still don’t get to see each other as often as I would like.”
    “Why doesn’t he relocate?”
    Cynthia shook her head. “I could never ask it. His home is there.”
    “So, you’d be willing to move to the coast if married?”
    Cynthia smiled. “I’ve never really felt as if I could leave London. There’s always been the Ribbons tying me here . . .”
    “But we’re doing quite well for ourselves now.”
    She nodded. “Yes, you are. But I couldn’t very well leave you here. Maybe when you’re . . . settled.
    Meredith sighed. She hated the idea that her aunt was forced to put her romantic endeavors on hold while she waited for Meredith to get her act together. “But you had a good time, overall?”
    Cynthia clapped her hands together. “Oh, you really should have come out tonight!”
    Meredith shrugged. “I just didn’t feel quite up to it. I’m still a bit under the weather after my little episode the other night. Besides, I needed all the rest I could get since I’m supposed to be shopping with Alex today. You know how draining that can be.”
    Her aunt nodded approval. “Are you bringing Miss Marshall?”
    “Of course.”
    “Delightful. And will Mr. Marshall be in attendance?”
    Meredith laughed. “Perusing hats on Bond Street? I should hope not.”
    “I saw the flowers he sent yesterday. Things are going well, then?”
    Garrett Marshall had sent an arrangement of hotbox flowers, along with a note inquiring after her health the day after the opera. It was a perfectly thoughtful gesture . . . one that she’d briefly entertained as being the work of Derek. It was a ridiculous thought; he’d made his opinion known, and for the life of her she couldn’t blame him.
    She’d treated him abominably, no matter how many times she’d tried to justify it to herself. But she’d needed to be entirely focused on her success in London and couldn’t chance the complication of a relationship with him. It had been for the best that she sever all ties, knowing neither one of them could ever be content with friendship alone.
    “Quite well,” she answered back.
    Cynthia turned to make her way back out of the room, but stopped suddenly and whirled around to face her once more. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask about Lord Sutherland.”
    “The Earl?” Meredith’s grip tightened around the letter she hid behind her back.
    “Oh, good! So you are familiar with him. He was all anyone could talk about last night and I heard he’d also attended The Barber of Seville . Did you meet him, then?”
    “We’ve been introduced,” she said dryly.
    “I hear he’s one to watch. Gorgeous, rich as sin—and he’s rumored to have quite the sense of adventure. What a catch!”
    Meredith bit her tongue, afraid of what she’d say.
    “I’m off to bed now,” Cynthia sung. “Really, though, you should go lie down and get a bit more rest. You look awful.” With that, her aunt shut the door behind her.
    Meredith removed the crumpled ball of foolscap from behind her back. How had he managed to cultivate that reputation in such a short amount of time? It was beyond ridiculous how much fuss was being made over Derek Weston .
    She threw the wadded-up letter across the room.
    She refused to acknowledge Lord Sutherland as anything more than a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing . . . or more accurately, a sheep dressed in wolf’s clothing. Whatever had happened to him was of little consequence to her.
    Unless he succeeded in courting Ophelia.
    She needed Ophelia to remain as pure and clean as a fresh winter’s snow, and she would not let a former-farmer-turned-pirate seduce her little apprentice. He may have impressed London society, but she remained anything but.
    Meredith and Ophelia stepped out of the carriage in front of the modiste’s shop and found Alex already waiting with her maid.
    “Meredith!” Alex called, pausing after