Going Rogue by Jessica Jefferson

didn’t think you’d be here to bother us.”
    “My appointments cancelled, so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to catch up with my little sister,” he explained without any sort of conviction. “And perhaps learn a bit more about her friends. Miss Castle, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He took her hand and kissed it with a feather-like touch.
    “And you, Mr. Marshall.” Meredith curtsied, careful not to show too much interest. Aunt Cynthia had taught there was no better way to attract a man than to ignore his very existence.
    “I suppose if you’re home, then you might as well join us,” Ophelia reluctantly conceded. “Shall we sit?” She gestured toward a group of chairs and lounges stationed in the center of the room.
    Meredith sat in one of the King Louis chairs, arranging her skirts so they pooled prettily around her feet. Garrett sat across from her, watching her every move. She avoided his gaze, nonchalantly looking about the room, pretending as if she couldn’t feel the heat of his stare slowly raking over her.
    Then she saw him .
    He was standing by the piano, wearing black pants and a black jacket, looking very much like the pirate he’d been accused of being.
    “Lord Sutherland?” she blurted.
    Garrett leaned back. “He arrived just before you showed up to pay a call.”
    Ophelia stood, her face a vibrant shade of pink. “What a surprise.” She inclined her head toward Meredith. “You remember Miss Castle, from the opera?”
    Derek sauntered over, the attention of the room focused entirely on him. “I hope you don’t mind, Miss Marshall. I wanted to make certain the flowers I sent you were to your liking.”
    “Roses are my favorite.” Ophelia smiled timidly as she looked over at an obscenely large floral arrangement sitting atop the piano. “They’re quite beautiful. Thank you.”
    Meredith gasped. It was gorgeous—a flagrant display of pink, orange, and red roses, with heads the size of her fist. The modest bouquet she’d received from Mr. Marshall looked to be little more than a nosegay in comparison to the veritable garden Derek had sent Ophelia. She could only imagine the small fortune he’d spent.
    “And what about you, Miss Castle? Do you approve?” he asked, one cocky eyebrow challenging her to answer.
    She was temporarily blindsided by the memory of Derek giving her a handful of posies he’d stolen from his mother’s garden when they were twelve. She quickly shook it off. “I suppose.”
    Ophelia looked over at her, and swallowed noticeably. She looked more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen her before. And that was saying a lot.
    “Why don’t you have a seat, Sutherland?” Garrett interrupted, gesturing toward the empty chair next to her own.
    She stiffened. Even from across the room, Derek’s presence was overwhelming. His face, his size, his smell—it battered her senses. It took every ounce of self-control not to gawk, wondering just how he’d become that way. Had he always been like that and she’d missed it somehow? Exactly how does one learn to be all-consuming?
    No sooner than Derek had sat down, Ophelia stood up, her face beet-red. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find some refreshments.” She scurried out of the room, leaving the three alone.
    Meredith felt a surge of pity toward the poor girl. Derek’s close proximity made her feel skittish—she could only imagine the sheer terror that Ophelia was experiencing.
    “Brandy, Sutherland?” Garrett walked to a cabinet, various sized crystal decanters decorating the top of it.
    “It couldn’t hurt,” Derek replied, crossing one ankle over his knee.
    Meredith noticed the polished Hessian. His boots were immaculate and quite expensive—a far cry from the times he’d made due with thin soles and worn leather.
    Garrett picked up an empty decanter. “It looks like we’re all out. I’ll go find another.”
    He strode out of the room, inadvertently leaving the two alone