Free A Wayward Man: A Prequel to A Dangerous Invitation (The Rookery Rogues) by Erica Monroe Page A

brilliant
lad that he is or not. That doesn't matter much now, does it?”
He'd always wanted Kate to meet Atlas, but not like this.
    “No, I suppose
not. All those hours Papa spent grooming you to take over the
company, and you threw it away as if it was nothing. I don't
understand you, Daniel.” She spoke around bites of mutton.
    “Your father
was never going to let me lead the company.” He had known
Morgan had plans for him, but he couldn't see himself as the head of
a large shipping company. Her father had never specified that Daniel
was his successor.
    “Why do you
think he introduced you to all his damned suppliers, his business
partners? Because he believed in you .” She hissed the
last word as though it was the gravest insult.
    Once you believed
in me, too.
    “When you got
arrested, Papa's good name was dragged through the ditches.
Everything he'd done for you, and instead you brought shame to our
door.”
    “I'm sorry.”
He'd been a fool to not imagine what wide-reaching effects his
departure would have.
    “Apologies
won't bring back the company or my life.” She wouldn't look at
him, gaze intent on the mutton.
    He was so
unimportant to her he didn't deserve her attention.
    They lapsed into
silence. She patted at her hair, parted in the middle with short
curls on her temples. When he had last seen her, she had worn her
chocolate curls in ringlets with silk flowers. He liked this new,
simpler style better. It felt more genuine.
    He let his gaze run
down her frame. She had always been tall, but she was gaunter now—her
thinness was emphasized by the swell of her wide skirts, the puffed
sleeves of her azure dress.
    Yet she remained the
most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
    Kate finished her
mutton and took a swig of ale. He watched the line of her throat as
she swallowed, imagined the taste of the frothy brown liquid on his
tongue. Her fingers curled around the clay mug. An angry scratch ran
across her wrist, in the space between her glove and sleeve. Dark
circles lined her eyes.
    I doomed her to a
life of hard labor and injustice.
    “After I
left...” He didn't know how to finish that sentence without
hurting her, and so the words spilled out like the rapid clip-clop of
horse hooves on cobblestone. “What happened to you? Why did no
one help you when the company collapsed?”
    He didn't add what
he truly wanted to know: why didn't you marry? Could you still
love me?
    She sat up
straighter, spine stiffened. “That is none of your business.”
    When Atlas had told
him she lived in the rookeries, he was aghast. She was the daughter
of an upper middle class merchant; someone in her social class should
have helped her. Even without her father's money, she should've been
able to marry well based on her beauty alone.
    “You should
have better than this, Katiebelle.” He leaned forward,
pretending the smell of her soap pierced through the haze of gin.
    “And who shall
give that happy future to me? You?” She gave a harsh, guttural
laugh.
    “I could.”
He hated the pleading tone of his voice. “If I can prove my
innocence, then I'll be able to find work in London again.”
    She snorted.
    “I deserve
your scorn.” He deserved far more than that, yet he kept
silent, lest he give her ideas on the best ways to throttle him from
across the table.
    “Damn right
you do,” she muttered.
    “But if you
give me a chance, I'll show you I've changed.” He searched her
face, deluding himself into believing he saw a ghost of compassion in
her brown eyes, in the slight quiver of her bottom lip.
    Slowly, her posture
rigid, she rearranged her thick skirts. She patted the greatcoat
underneath her, where she had slipped the pistol. “You have
five minutes to tell me what the Gentleman Thief has discovered.”

Read on for an excerpt from
    Erica Monroe’s next novella

    Secrets in Scarlet
    The Rookery Rogues 1.5
    Coming in Early 2014

    And Coming in Mid-2014
    The Rookery Rogues 2
    Scandal Becomes You

London,