Going Rogue by Jessica Jefferson Page A

together.
    Derek looked around. There were a few footmen stationed about, but for the most part, he was free to speak candidly with his old friend. An opportunity five years in the making.
    Sitting rigidly in her chair, Meredith didn’t bother to look at him. But he stared at her—comparing the woman before him to the girl he used to know. Her skin still had that youthful, sun-kissed glow and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose hadn’t faded away completely. She never could seem to remember her bonnet. Her hair was still the color of corn silk. She’d filled-out; her breasts and hips fuller than he remembered. Probably from all the lounging around. In Middlebury, she’d walked everywhere—her figure almost too thin. She displayed her curves to her advantage though, wearing a clingy purple dress with flounces all about the bosom. It really was a silly gown, but no different from what the other women he’d seen promenading through Mayfair wore.
    He sighed. What he’d give to see her in a plain muslin gown, with her hair left hanging down her back.
    That was when she was most beautiful.
    Derek scolded himself, ashamed for having allowed the memory to creep back in. That girl was gone and he’d be wise to remember it.
    She was still facing forward, undoubtedly aware of the precarious position their hosts had left them in. He grinned—his prey was waiting.
    “Miss Castle, is everything all right?”
    “Everything’s just fine, Mr. Weston.” Her fine porcelain features were expressionless, and she looked very much like the marble busts that decorated the space.
    “It’s Lord Sutherland,” he corrected. He was rewarded by an almost imperceptible twitch of her jaw.
    “Of course, Lord Sutherland,” she repeated. “How foolish of me to have forgotten.”
    He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You don’t seem to be overly thrilled at my arrival in London.”
    “I’m simply surprised to see you here, that’s all.”
    He could have sworn the chill in her voice lowered the temperature of the room several degrees. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
    “Well, you’re certainly full of something.” Finally, she turned to him, smiling politely as ever.
    He coughed into his hand and sat up. “Miss Castle? Is it only my imagination or do you not like me very much?”
    Meredith tilted her head to the side. “Whatever do you mean?”
    She knew full well what he meant. “This frostiness of yours is completely unwarranted, not to mention completely irrational. I mean, I can’t for the life of me think of what I’ve done to earn your wrath. If memory serves me correctly, which I’m sure it does, then I know I am not the offending party here.”
    She stared at him for a moment, narrowing her gaze just before answering. “I suppose I just don’t care much for you, Lord Sutherland.”
    “And why is that exactly? What possible reason could you have not to like me?”
    “Because this isn’t really you.”
    It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. “But it is. This is who I am, now.”
    Meredith shook her head. “It’s not at all who you are. You seem to have forgotten that I knew you long before you adopted this . . .” She waved a hand over the length of him. “. . . ridiculous persona.”
    He felt a pang in his chest, which only served to irk him further. “I’ll have you know that I’ve worked quite hard to become the man I am today, to cultivate this persona. And I object to you calling it ridiculous.”
    “Well, it is.” She folded her arms across her chest and arched a pretty brow. “You’re pretending to be something you’re not.”
    “How exactly am I pretending?”
    “This whole Earl business . . .”
    “But I am an Earl.”
    “It’s all of it—your clothes and the way you carry yourself.”
    “What’s wrong with my clothes? It costs a fortune to look like this.”
    “Exactly!” Finally, she was beginning to show a little pep.