My Enchanting Hoyden (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel, #3)

by Julie Johnstone

  “Promise me I will be the only man you ever call my lord while looking as sultry as only you can do.”

  “I look sultry?” she teased, batting her eyelashes at him.

  “Minx.” He tweaked her chin with one hand and entwined the fingers of his other with hers. “I’ll have your promise.”

  “I promise,” she vowed and then kissed him, unabashedly and most improperly, on the mouth.

  They made their way back toward the party and hovered in the shadows for one last second. Philip squeezed Jemma’s hand before releasing it. “You go first. I’ll follow in a few minutes from the opposite direction so that no one thinks anything should someone see us both coming from this path.”

  Jemma nodded, though she was loath to leave Philip. “Will you come find me?”

  “Always,” he said with such emphatic assurance that her chest tightened at the emotion in his voice. She recognized it as the same one in her heart.

  She locked gazes with him and smiled before turning and slipping into the crowd to begin her search for Anne and Grandfather. She wasn’t that concerned with finding them quickly. The night was a dream she never wanted to awaken from. It was perfect.

  She hummed to herself as she walked. Near the fountains, she spotted Anne standing beside Grandfather, who was talking animatedly to someone. Anne stood silent, her lips pressed tightly together. Jemma followed Anne’s gaze to the edge of the rotunda, and Jemma’s perfect night abruptly ended.

  Her first thought was to march up to Mr. Frazier, standing without a care in the world so cozy and close to Lady Beatrice, and warn the lady away from the scheming man. That wouldn’t do, though, because then Mr. Frazier would just be more careful. In addition, Lady Beatrice may question how Jemma knew Mr. Frazier was searching for a rich wife. Jemma quickly decided she’d write the lady an anonymous note in the morning and send it straight round. That way, Lady Beatrice would be warned, but there’d be no way to trace it to the incident of Anne running off with Mr. Frazier.

  When Jemma reached Anne, her sister grabbed her arm and drew her near. “Where have you been?” she whispered under her breath.

  Jemma smiled. “With Philip.”

  Anne grinned even as her brow furrowed. “I do hope Lord Harthorne will be around tomorrow to call on Grandfather.”

  “He says he will,” Jemma replied, unable to keep the hopeful excitement from her voice.

  “Then he shall. He’s a gentleman and true to his word.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Jemma, would you mind terribly if I claimed a megrim? I don’t think I can bear watching Ian flirt with other women knowing how little I really meant to him and how he was but using me.”

  Jemma immediately nodded, though Anne claiming not to feel well meant they would all have to leave and the night with Philip would end. Yet, there would hopefully be a thousand such perfect nights with Philip in her future. Being there for Anne was the most important thing in this moment.

  The sisters moved toward their grandfather, who was just parting ways with his friend. Anne touched Grandfather’s arm. “I’m not feeling well, Grandfather. Do you mind if we leave?”

  “Of course not,” he said, patting Anne’s hand.

  Jemma gazed through the crowd, hoping Philip would appear so she could say good-bye, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Instead, she followed Anne and Grandfather toward the lane that gave access to the land entrance to the gardens, all the while glancing over her shoulder for Philip. As the entrance came into sight, she let out a sigh, but as she exhaled, his deep, velvet voice called out her name.

  “Miss Adair!”

  She swiveled on her heel toward him, not bothering to conceal her delight at being able to speak to him once more before she departed. Philip jogged toward them and didn’t slow until he stood before Jemma, Anne, and Grandfather.

  “Duke, Miss Anne, Miss Adair,” Philip greeted properly, though his appearance had been wonderfully improper. “I hoped to catch you, Duke, before you departed to ask if I might have a moment of your time tomorrow?”

  Grandfather looked at Jemma, and she nodded emphatically. He turned to Philip. “I do believe that would be acceptable.”

  Philip’s grin made Jemma’s stomach tighten with happiness.

  Grandfather motioned to Anne. “Come here, Granddaughter, and look at the stars with me for a moment.”

  Jemma could have kissed her grandfather for his kindness in giving her a few treasured seconds for a semi-private good-bye, but she knew how uncomfortable such a show of affection would make him.

  She and Philip faced each other, so near but not touching. “When do you think you might call?” she asked, not giving a whit that she sounded overeager.

  Dipping his head slightly, he said, “Early. Probably before you are even out of bed,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “I’d call tonight if I didn’t think your grandfather would throw me out.”

  “Likely wise to wait until morning,” she agreed with a giggle.

  He nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as—”

  “Jemma,” Grandfather called, signaling her time was up.

  “Sweet dreams, Philip,” she whispered.

  “They’ll be of a certain red-headed minx with brilliant eyes of turquoise and a smile that lights my heart. What will you dream of?”

  “A gentleman,” she said simply before turning and walking toward her grandfather and Anne. When she looked back, Philip was staring intently after her, and she mouthed the word you.

  Philip awoke the next morning determined to immediately secure a future for him and Jemma. That meant he needed to speak with Scarsdale first thing and learn if the man could use him in his shipping company. Then he needed to pay a visit to Amelia to explain his decision to her and Eustice. He wasn’t worried about his sister, but his cousin was a different story altogether. She needed all the help she could get with the ton, and he knew his decision would only hinder her. Guilt clawed at him, but it was not enough anymore to keep him from Jemma.

  After he spoke with Eustice, he’d go to see Jemma’s grandfather and ask for her hand. The duke may very well deny Philip’s suit if he believed Philip only wanted to marry Jemma for the dowry. Of course, Philip refusing to take it should solve that, but it was still possible the duke would not want his granddaughter to marry a man with so much debt and uncertainty in his life. Philip would simply have to go to Rowan with a solid plan to make his financial future more secure.

  That left only his mother. Knots formed in his neck as he thought of how she had handled Father’s death and the poverty that had followed. She’d been so addicted to laudanum and could not seem to find the strength to pull herself out of her depression until Philip had borrowed the money from Aversley and assured her that they would not be ruined for the entire ton to scorn them. He didn’t want to cause her any pain or shame, but he could not marry another woman when he loved Jemma.

  After Philip was dressed and had quickly eaten, he made his way to his study to write a note to his mother and tell her he’d be coming to see her in Bath. Once the letter was written, he sealed it and stood to leave. As he did, Amelia breezed through the doorway and smiled.

  “Good morning, Philip.”

  Amelia was not an early riser by nature. Something had to be amiss.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked immediately.

  “Not a thing,” she replied, plunking down into one of the two leather chairs that faced his desk. “As a matter of fact, something is very, very right.” Amelia waved a piece of foolscap in the air. “Mother wrote me, and it seems Bath agreed with her ever so much.”

  A knot formed in Philip’s stomach. He was either going to have to ask Mother to leave Bath so he could save on that expense, or he had to swallow his pride and request Aversley fund Mother’s stay there. The notion was humiliating, but the reminder that he was hoping to acquire one more lady to care for was all he needed to gulp his pride down.

  “Amelia, do you think Aversley wou
ld be averse to paying for the rest of Mother’s visit to Bath?”

  “He certainly would,” Amelia chirped. “Colin hates to waste money, and I cannot think of a bigger waste than to pay for a visit when the person is no longer there.”

  He cocked his head in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Philip, honestly!” Amelia huffed. “Do keep up. Mother is not in Bath.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said Bath agreed with her. Mother is on her way home.”

  “Oh, excellent!” He let out a relieved sigh. “She’s all better, then.”

  Amelia giggled. “You could say that.”

  His sister was acting very odd. He was pleased that Mother was better, too, but Amelia seemed almost giddy over it. “Am I missing something?”

  “Heavens yes!” she exclaimed, “but Mother made me promise in her letter not to tell you.” Amelia leaned forward, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and rested her elbows on the desk. “However, if you should guess...”

  Philip scrubbed a hand over his face. He had not a clue what he was supposed to be guessing. He shrugged. “I’ve not even the slightest notion where to begin.”

  Amelia frowned. “Did you know Mother was accompanied to Bath by Dr. Talbot?”

  Philip almost choked on the news. “Good God! How much will that cost?”

  Amelia burst out laughing. “Honestly, men can be so single-minded sometimes. Dr. Talbot didn’t charge Mother to accompany her.”

  Philip frowned. “Does he do that for all his patients?”

  Amelia snorted. “Brother dear, for a man with a poet’s heart, you are oblivious when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  Philip started to snap at his sister that he didn’t have time for these games when a shocking, impossible thought struck him. “Are you trying to tell me that Dr. Talbot went to Bath because he cares for Mother?”

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Amelia said emphatically. “You are guessing, remember?”

  Philip nodded. “What does Dr. Talbot caring for Mother have to do with Mother coming home?”

  Amelia slapped her palms on the desk and glared. “You really are making this difficult. Mother wants to tell you personally how much Dr. Talbot cares for her. She’s ever so worried you will care that Dr. Talbot cares.”

  Philip bounded to his feet. He was wasting his time. He needed to go see the woman he cared for and tell her grandfather how much he wanted to marry her. He froze and looked at his sister, who was staring at him with a wry expression on her face, and it hit him. “Mother wants to marry Dr. Talbot.”

  Amelia nodded. “Now, Philip, you honestly look distraught. I’m disappointed. Mother deserves happiness and— What are you doing?”

  “Hugging you!” Philip laughed as he closed the distance between Amelia and himself.

  “Then you’re not upset?”

  “No! This solves one of my problems perfectly. Not that Mother was a problem.”

  Amelia arched an eyebrow. “What other problems do you need solved? Hmm?” Between the way she wiggled her eyebrows and the suggestive tone of her voice, Philip knew Amelia was already aware of his financial woes.

  “Let me guess,” he said, “Sophia told you about my plan.”

  “But of course,” Amelia replied in a cheeky voice. “Though it boggles the mind why you would try to hide from me, your sister who loves you, the fact that you were having financial difficulties.”

  “Because I knew you would try to simply give me the money, and I’m not going to take any more charity from you or your husband.”

  Amelia blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Men and their pride,” she muttered. “So what is it you plan to do?”

  He looked his sister in the eye. “I plan to secure employment, hopefully with Scarsdale’s company.”

  “An excellent idea,” Amelia said, showing one of the qualities he loved most about her. She was as close to unflappable as a person could get, and she didn’t place any value, as most people in the ton did, on the lines of social distinctions with which one was not supposed to tamper. One such division being that actually working for one’s money was unheard of for the upper classes.

  “Do you think my decision will harm Eustice too much? She’s the only one remaining I’m concerned about.”

  Amelia waved her hand. “You needn’t worry about Eustice. That’s the other thing I came to tell you. Our cousin has already had an offer for her hand.”

  “Eustice?” Not that he didn’t think she was a lovely lady, she was, but it was not the sort of apparent loveliness that one would think inspired quick offers of marriage.

  Amelia pressed her lips together, but he could still see the corners pulling up in a smile. “I know! I had the same thought I see going across your face, but I’m thrilled to say Lord Hodgeworth fell hopelessly for Eustice on their very first meeting. It seems he’s never met a lady who knows as much about mathematics and nature as he does.” Amelia sat back in her chair and gazed up at Philip. “Now, I do hope you no longer feel required to marry for money to save Eustice and Mother from any harm or hardship.”

  “Is there anything you don’t know?” he asked, slightly amused and slightly irritated.

  Amelia shook her head. “No. Sophia told me all. But there are a few things I feel required to tell you.”

  “I can only imagine,” he said drolly.

  “You may not know it yet, but I assure you that you love Jemma.”

  Philip considered denying it, just to irritate Amelia and see her work herself into a fit, but he allowed a slow smile to spread. “I already know it, and I’ve told her as much.”

  Amelia jumped up and hugged him. “Will you be asking for her hand?”

  “You can be sure that I will,” he said, his chest tightening with happiness at the very real fact that, unless some disaster occurred, Jemma—his flame-haired, dazzling-eyed hoyden—would soon be his wife. He’d never have a day of peace again, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. Life with Jemma would never be dull. It would be like an epic poem.

  “I feel so much better for deceiving you now,” Amelia said.

  Philip narrowed his gaze on his sister. “I beg your pardon?”

  A blush covered her face. “Er, this is the rest of what I need to tell you. When you asked Sophia to help you make the list, she believed, as I did, that you and Jemma would make a perfect match, so Sophia purposely put debutantes on the list she knew would not suit you, except you wanted ten names. She could only think of eight completely unsuitable women, so we had to scheme to make sure you disliked the other two upon meeting them.”

  Philip gaped at his sister. “I cannot believe you did that.”

  Amelia pursed her lips. “Really? And here I thought you truly knew me.”

  He wanted to be angry, but it was difficult considering how things had turned out. “Which two?” It was hard to say, given all the ladies he had encountered had not been suitable in his mind.

  Amelia grinned. “Lady Barbara and Lady Margaret.”

  Philip snorted. “That would explain how strange Lady Barbara acted.”

  Amelia giggled. “I went to great personal sacrifice to persuade her to do so. I had to secure her another suitor because she thought you were rather handsome.”

  He coughed to cover his laugh.

  Amelia glared, but her smile still twitched her lips.

  Philip crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose Lady Margaret did not have a dead fiancé named Philip.”

  Amelia shook her head. “Are you angry?”

  Instead of chiding his sister for her interference, he took her hand and kissed it. “I should be, but I’m too happy about Jemma. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see if I can secure employment and a bride.”

  Amelia’s laughter and call of “Good luck!” followed him as he walked out of the room and down the hall, whistling and twirling his top hat as he went.

  “Jemma,” Grandfather scolded from his
chair, “if you pace across my favorite Aubusson rug one more time, you will wear a hole in it and I’ll be most displeased. Your grandmother personally chose this rug for me. Do sit down. Your beau will come.”

  “Yes, do take a seat,” Anne urged. “Your constant pacing is making it hard to concentrate on my book.”

  Jemma caught the inside of her cheek between her teeth and worried the flesh. She’d told Grandfather that she loved Philip and wished to marry him to ensure there would be no doubt about what she desired when Philip came. She’d also wanted to make sure Grandfather was going to permit the union, but there had been absolutely no worry there. Grandfather heartily approved of Philip. All she needed now was Philip.

  Jemma walked to the window and stared out at the empty drive again, wringing her hands. “It’s already four. Philip said he would come early. What if he’s changed his mind?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Anne said. “He loves you. It’s quite obvious.”

  Jemma glanced at Grandfather. She loved her sister, but Anne could be fanciful. Grandfather was far from fanciful. He nodded. “Your sister is right. It’s obvious even to an old man like me.”

  That should have made her feel better, but it didn’t. Perhaps it was the fact that love had let her down so terribly before. But Philip is not Will, she reminded herself.

  Still, it was four o’clock. Where was he?

  Grandfather stood as he bellowed for Mr. Sims. “Why don’t you go for a ride in the park? It will make you feel better.”

  She shook her head. Only Philip appearing and asking for her hand would make her feel better. Grandfather was in front of her before she could blink, propelling her toward the door where Mr. Sims was entering.

  “Your Grace?” the butler asked.

  “Ready my carriage. My granddaughter is taking a ride in Hyde Park to calm her nerves.”

  Jemma bristled at the description. “I am not a nervous lady.”

  “Not usually,” Anne sang in an overly cheery voice, “but today you are positively tangled up! I agree with Grandfather: you should go to Hyde Park and get some fresh air. Do you want me to come?” Anne asked as she rubbed her leg.