How to Marry a Rogue

by Anna Small

  She’d nearly ruined herself over an infatuation with Edward Mitford. With his flirtatious grin and wicked charm, he resembled her idea of all that was romantic and exciting. When he’d asked her to elope after stealing a kiss, she’d hesitated for only a moment.

  It didn’t take long for Jonathan to forgive her, and she had sincerely tried to please him in the last two years since her escapade. She was the model sister-in-law and confidante to Sophie, and truly looked forward to becoming an aunt. Although nobody outside her immediate family knew of the incident, as she and Jonathan referred to her near-elopement, she was aware of how close to ruin it had brought her. Never would she put herself in such a position again. She imagined meeting Edward in public and snubbing him, while he stared after her in hurt surprise.

  “There’s that smile I’ve missed. How have you been?” He regarded her with a brother’s concern.

  “I have been very well, thank you, Jack. I will admit I was determined to get away. This trip could not have come at a more opportune time.”

  “Ah.” He nodded understandingly. “Your brother mentioned your reluctance for of stepping out.” He cracked his knuckles. “Do not fear, Georgie. When we return to London, you can lure Mitford into a wood, where I’ll lie in wait. And then I will pummel him within an inch of his life until you tell me to stop.” The wicked spark she remembered from childhood glinted in his eyes. “However, I would applaud you if you strode right up to the bastard and belted him in the eye. I’ll hold him down for you.”

  Georgiana gaped at him in horror, then doubled over with laughter. “You are impossible.” She wiped the corners of her eyes. “Oh, but if I could.” She laughed again. “But that would mean I still cared about…” Like her brother, she could barely speak the dreadful name. She shook her head slightly. “Indifference is the opposite of caring. That is what Jonathan told me. So, I am indifferent to him.”

  “Bravo.”

  “It is very kind of you to accompany us, Jack,” she said when it seemed he might take another nap.

  “I am pleased to renew our acquaintance again. When did you grow up?”

  The faintest breath of heat rose up her throat to fill her cheeks. A mild stirring of something curious and alarming formed in her chest. She’d always seen Jack as her brother’s friend, if not a brother of sorts himself. But the distance of a few years had changed things. He was no longer the teasing boy, the rescuer. He was a man, with a life separate from what she’d known of the rambunctious lad who’d spent his holidays at Fairwood Hall.

  “Naturally, I am grown up. Did you expect me to stay a child forever?”

  “No, but I am certain your brother wishes it.” He cleared his throat. “Have you given marriage a thought, Georgiana? Your brother hopes…”

  She crinkled her nose. “Did Jonathan ask you to speak to me about marriage? Please, Jack, do not begin preaching the merits of marriage to me. You should have been married long ago, yet you scorn the very thought. I have never heard you discuss marriage without a sneer or joke.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but she noted his guilty look. “It’s not that I scorn it, Georgiana. Marriage is perfectly suitable for some people. I just do not understand the draw. Really—one mate for the rest of your life?” He shook his head, his eyebrows raised in mock astonishment. “Ridiculous.”

  “The Reverend Franklin would shake his fist if he heard you,” she admonished, but was disturbed she almost agreed with him.

  “Is the Reverend Franklin a happily married man?”

  She chewed her lip. “He is a bachelor, I believe.”

  “There you have it. Who is he to command others to marry?”

  “I see your point, skewed though it may be.” She played with the beaded fringe on her reticule. “I hope you will not be too busy in Bordeaux. I will have no other company but Aunt Adele and her sister, Lady Priscilla.”

  “Rest assured I will have plenty of leisure time on my hands.” He studied her for a moment. “Perhaps I will fetch you occasionally and show you the countryside. There are some picturesque villages and towns you might like to see.”

  She pursed her lips. “I do not think I should accompany you without a chaperone.”

  “Put your worries aside. I trust you will not compromise me.”

  She laughed. “You are terribly wicked, Jack. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do know. But why should it matter if you are sans chaperone with me? I’m as close a brother to you as Lockewood.”

  Her smile remained, but she wanted to protest his statement. Since seeing him that morning when he’d come to her brother’s house to join her and Aunt Adele, she’d had to reconcile her memories of the playful older friend with the image of the grown man he’d become. Who’d have thought skinny Jack would broaden in the chest and shoulders the way he had? That the round face would melt into curving cheekbones merging into a chiseled jaw?

  In seconds, the image of the boy she remembered was replaced with a man who was almost a stranger. She didn’t feel quite herself, and was conscious of what she said or if she laughed too loudly or too often, as if she must impress him. She had to keep reminding herself not to arrange her pelisse over her knees or glance down to see if the ruffled trim on her bodice was drooping. Annoyed suddenly, she leaned against the side of the carriage.

  “I suppose it will be all right for you to chaperone me.” She was still a little girl in his eyes. How much had Jonathan told him about the incident? Worse, why was he taking on Jonathan’s cause and pushing her toward marriage? “Besides, we shall probably not meet any of our acquaintance in Bordeaux. Aunt Adele said it is rather unfashionable at the moment.”

  “I promise not to shame you should we meet anyone.”

  She scowled. “I know you would not shame me, Jack, even if your nose looks a bit smashed. And what is that bruise beneath your brow? Did you walk into a door?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You have a sharp tongue, Georgiana. I’m not certain if I like this grown up version of the little doll I once knew.”

  “That doll is gone, Jack. I am quite the adult now. I even walk downstairs by myself.”

  “Well, that is a relief.” He grinned slowly. “I can see we are to have ourselves an enjoyable time. I’m tired of women who cannot keep a conversation going, unless it is to try and convince me to give up my scandalous ways.”

  “Are you saying you enjoy being insulted every five seconds?”

  “Coming from you,” he said, sighing, “I take it as a compliment.”

  Silence overcame them, and she wondered if it would be proper to close her eyes and sleep, as Aunt Adele had done. She met Jack’s gaze, her stomach twitching when she realized he was still looking at her. “How much further, do you think? It seems like we’ve been cooped up in this coach for ages.”

  “Goodness, Georgie. Are you going to complain the entire crossing?”

  She blushed at his familiar teasing. “I merely inquired. If you do not have the answer, you may say so.”

  “About three more hours. The sea crossing will be tons more enjoyable. You’ll be able to walk around the deck and take the air. With a proper escort, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes, making him smile. “I’ve never been on a ship before.” She sat up straighter. “Will it be a rough crossing, do you think?”

  “Not too bad, I suppose. But you will have to contend with the sea monsters. If you’re very good, I’ll toss you overboard so you can swim with the mermaids.”

  “Are you going to insist on treating me as if I were six years old?”

  “Come now, Georgiana! Who else entertains you as well as I?” He reached across the coach and patted her hand. “We will have an enjoyable crossing and an equally marvelous journey to Bordeaux. And I will be there to protect you, should you require it.”

  “You are every inch a gentleman, Jack Waverley.”

  He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and she knew she would not be able to disturb him this
time.

  “Why do you and your brother always say that with a hint of mockery and not a little surprise?”

  ****

  The deck heaved and rolled beneath her feet. Georgiana lost her footing and hurtled against the railing where she banged her hip. Her gloves and most of her pelisse were soaked with the sea spray springing up from the waves every few seconds, but she held on grimly. Standing on the deck of the packet ship Essex was the only thing that kept her from joining the other passengers, below in the cabins, seasick and miserable.

  She’d left Aunt Adele doubled over a bucket but realized the open deck wasn’t a better choice. Glancing around the crowded deck teeming with sailors and a few other like-minded souls, she searched for Jack but didn’t see his telltale figure anywhere.

  The ship slammed into a higher wave, and she sank to her knees, her cheek pressed to the rough wood that smelled of fish and saltwater.

  Strong arms lifted her, and she turned to protest but sagged against Jack as he lifted her to her feet. “I thought you said the crossing would be smooth.”

  His laughter vibrated from his chest. The roar of the sea and the noise of the crew had drowned out any sound. He bent his head, and a breath of warm air skimmed her forehead.

  “Alas, I have no skills in predicting bad weather or seas. It is a smooth crossing, relatively speaking. A sea captain once told me about rounding the Horn. Now, that is a voyage you would never wish to take.”

  She gripped his coat while he led her to a bench between some sturdy looking barrels, where they sat. She fell forward when the ship rocked again, and he reached his arm around her waist to steady her.

  “I must say, Pudding Face, you are rather green around the gills.”

  “How is it you are not ill?” She released his coat to hold her middle and prayed she wouldn’t humiliate herself by being sick all over her shoes.

  “I have made this trip many times in the past few years. My grandfather’s heart is too weak for him to make the voyage. So, it has fallen to me.”

  “You’re very good to do it.” She was grateful for the conversation, as it kept her attention off the horizon dipping over the bow.

  “He pays me well.” He gave a wry smile. “I do not mind the journey. There is usually a little business to see to, and then I have an extraordinary amount of spare time to waste in the gambling halls and salons of Paris. If only you weren’t so young, I would take you.”

  She choked. “My brother would have you strung up by your bootstraps!” But her heart panged for a moment. How exciting it would be to attend a ball with someone as exuberant as Jack.

  She remembered Jonathan’s halting words to Sophie about Jack’s—what had Jonathan called them? “Truly, Jack; you must find some more wholesome pursuits.”

  “Look at the little girl, lecturing me! Yes, I should. I will stop in for tea with you and Aunt Adele twice a week, and you can teach me knitting.”

  “I do not knit.” She would have said more, but another wave almost sent her hurtling to the deck. Instantly, he pulled her close to his side, and she gritted her teeth, hiding her face in his coat. “Oh, God, make it stop.”

  He brushed his hand over her cheek, just under her bonnet. “Close your eyes, Georgiana. It will make it a little better. I’ll hold onto you so you do not fall. This weather cannot last.”

  His right hand rested on his knee. She gripped three of his fingers as hard as she could. “Keep talking to me, Jack. It’s not so bad when you’re talking too me.”

  “What shall I talk about?”

  Already, she felt a little better, with the familiar scent of his hair pomade and cologne in her nose, and his arm, heavy and safe, about her. He’d comforted her so often in the past it was perfectly natural to lay her cheek on his shoulder. For a moment, the hard muscles in his arm disappeared, and she felt the reassuring familiarity of his body. Grown or not, he was still the dear friend who’d always protected her.

  “Tell me about the naughty things Jonathan and you did at Cambridge.” She fought a rise of bile as the ship bucked and danced over another crashing wave.

  “There are so many. I hardly know where to begin.”

  His broad, thick fingers clamped around her palm. She focused on the scars—some old, some more recent. Jack’s hands could tell stories her brother’s never could.

  “Just…just think of something. Did you not wake up drunk on the steps of a chapel once?”

  “That is hardly a suitable bedtime story for such a proper young lady. Your brother will not like it.”

  She pinched his hand. “My brother is not here. Besides, I’ve already heard it. I especially like the part when you dropped unconscious at the Latin master’s feet after insisting you were dry as a monk. Tell it to me again.”

  Sighing elaborately, Jack made a show of settling her against his side in preparation of telling a great tale. He brushed a drop of sea spray from her cheek. “Lockewood should not have told you these unsavory things about me. I wouldn’t want you to lose respect for me.”

  “I lost respect for you long ago, so you are safe.”

  He pinched the spot on her cheek he had just dried. “This is going to be a long voyage if you maintain your attitude, miss.”

  “I promise I’ll be good,” she said demurely, patting his hand where it rested on his knee.

  He turned his hand over and clasped her fingers. “How many times have you broken that promise?” he chided.

  Chapter Four

  “Terra firma at last!” Jack called out, helping Georgiana assist Aunt Adele, whose legs shook from her exhausting seasickness. They emerged from the cabins below, blinking in the bright morning sunlight.

  “My poor nerves,” Aunt Adele murmured, clutching Jack’s arm with one hand and leaning on Georgiana with the other. “I dread our return, my dears, if the crossing is anything like what we’ve just endured. I know not how all these poor boys make the trip.” She nodded at the sailors, who scurried about the deck and gangplank with aplomb.

  “The journey should be better at the end of summer,” Jack assured them. He winked at Georgiana. “You bore up quite well, miss. You should have seen her, Aunt Adele. She was a pillar of stoic fortitude. At one point, I rather feared our little girl was going to shove the pilot aside and take the wheel into her own hands.”

  “I was not,” she corrected, but gave him a grateful look when Aunt Adele cracked the merest of smiles.

  “My grandfather’s carriage should be waiting for us,” Jack said. “We’ll ride in comfort to Bolbec. You’ll have your land legs back in no time.”

  Georgiana gazed up at him from beneath her lashes. His chest tightened, but he shook off the feeling. She was a good girl, and it was kind of her to be at her aunt’s disposal. He forced himself to picture her in a starched pinafore, her long curls bouncing down her back. She’d been beguiling back then, too, able to convince him and Jonathan—though less Jonathan and more so Jack—to play one more game. One more push on the swing beneath the giant oak standing guard in the park. Jonathan would allow a few more minutes, but Jack had been the victim of her charms too often. He’d once spent several hours patiently braiding daisies into crowns for her dolls, and another time had crawled around on all fours while she pretended he was her pet dragon.

  Aunt Adele’s discreet cough brought him back to the present. He assisted Georgiana in situating the older woman on a bench outside a lading house.

  “I’ll help you organize our things. We have so many trunks and boxes I fear you might leave one behind in your haste to be rid of us.” Georgiana took his arm before he’d offered it.

  “I would never be so hasty as to leave the company of two pleasant ladies.” He swept a bow to Aunt Adele, who waved weakly.

  “Off you go, my dears. As soon as I’m sitting by the hearth and drinking a cup of hot tea, I shall be as good as new.”

  Jack led Georgiana through the throng of sailors and passengers swarming the crowded docks. He was mildly amazed at h
er ease in moving through all classes of workman and passenger, but it was the Lockewood goodwill in her. She looked around, her eyes shining with excitement. A twinge of sympathy filled him. She had suffered much because of Edward Mitford. One day, Mitford would receive his just reward. Jack fervently hoped he would be there to see it.

  “What a lovely day,” Georgiana commented, after they’d given instructions of where to send the luggage. “I feel as if I am truly on holiday.”

  Her earlier paleness had vanished. The salty, fresh air brought out a rosy hue in her cheeks reminding Jack of her younger self. Little else reminded him of how she used to look. She was taller than he’d expected but possessed natural curves no amount of tight corsetry could hide. Her blue eyes flashed before she turned away to look around at the bustling crowds.

  He cleared his throat roughly, as if the gesture would also clear his mind.

  Months ago, he’d been eager to start this journey, aware of the delights awaiting him. He’d made the acquaintance of a bored, married countess on his last visit. She’d written him several times, promising his latest trip would be one he’d remember. Before Lockewood had secured him to escort the ladies, the countess had filled his every waking thought. He glanced down at the gloved hand gripping his arm and couldn’t remember what the countess looked like.

  Georgiana met his gaze. “I’m so glad you’re with me, Jack.” She tucked her other hand over his arm in a sort of embrace. A blush swept across her cheeks as she caught her breath. “I mean with us. With Aunt Adele and me.”

  “As am I,” he said, before he could utter a teasing response instead.