My Enchanting Hoyden (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel, #3) (23 page)

“Oh, Lord Harthorne!” Miss Anne gushed, limping toward him. “We’re so glad you’re here. You’re the first carriage to come by! We’ve been stranded here all night with this broken wheel. I simply cannot walk far enough for us to find help, and I’m embarrassed to admit that when Ian tried to go, I begged him to stay. I was afraid to be alone in the dark.”

“As well you should be,” Philip replied, the desire to wring Frazier’s neck making his words come out haltingly.

“Don’t be mad at Ian!” Anne exclaimed.

“Aye,” Frazier grumbled. “Ye’d do the same if ye’d been stranded.”

“I’d not be stranded on the side of the road with a lady whom I’d stolen away like a thief in the middle of the night to take to Gretna Green.”

“Tha’s ’cause yer nae brave enough, Harthorne.”

Philip’s temper snapped. He lunged forward, grabbed Frazier by his coat lapels, and dragged the man toward him until their faces were inches apart. “That is because I have respect for the lady and know a hasty marriage in Gretna Green would sever her from her family and shred her reputation, you imbecile.”

“Shall Ah show ye who the imbecile is?” Frazier snarled as he tried to jerk out of Philip’s hold.

Philip curled his fists tighter into the material. “By all means, if you wish it. Show me your pistol and I’ll show you mine,” he warned.

“Philip,” Amelia said in a languid tone just before she appeared beside both him and Frazier. She shoved her gloved hand between the two of them and eyed him. “You really are not acting like yourself. You’re usually so logical and reasonable. Unhand Mr. Frazier.”

He wasn’t himself and he knew why. It was Jemma. If this man ruined Miss Anne, he would effectively hurt Jemma, as well. Not that Philip didn’t care about Miss Anne being harmed, he did, but the idea of Jemma in pain tore at his insides in a way he could neither help nor stop. But Amelia was right. Dueling Frazier wouldn’t solve anything. He released Frazier, and the man stumbled back with a growl.

Miss Anne rushed to Frazier and glared at Philip. “Did my sister send you to get me?”

“Yes, she’s very upset and wants you to come home immediately.”

Miss Anne bit her lip. “I will,” she said quietly, “after Ian and I are married.”

Philip opened his mouth to tell her how foolish that was, but Amelia gave him a discreet shake of her head as she walked toward Jemma’s sister and reached out a hand to her. Miss Anne took the proffered hand after a moment’s hesitation, and Amelia drew her away from Frazier.

“If you run off to Gretna Green you will destroy any chance of your sister making an acceptable match,” Amelia explained gently. “Society will shun her for your choice. Is that what you want?”

Miss Anne thrust her chin out stubbornly. “Jemma would welcome that,” she retorted. “She doesn’t want to marry. Ever. She doesn’t trust men.”

A strange, confusing sadness gripped Philip with the admission. There was no reason he should care so much that Jemma didn’t trust men and never wanted to marry, but apparently, his heart didn’t need a reason. He had no right to care, but he did.

Amelia tsked. “You don’t seem the selfish sort,” she said to Miss Anne. “What if your sister meets a man that changes her mind and her heart?”

Suddenly, Amelia was staring at Philip. What the devil? He yanked on his cravat. He could not change Jemma’s mind or heart. He had no right to ask a lady such as her to live in poverty with him, and that wasn’t even thinking of his mother and cousin. He returned his sister’s stare with a scowl.

She smiled and looked back to Miss Anne. “Are you truly telling me you’re willing to bet your sister will
never
fall in love?”

“Well, no,” Miss Anne said quietly. She nibbled her lip a moment. “I hope she does fall in love one day.”

“Anne,” Frazier began, but Amelia swiveled toward him and gave him a look that would have frozen the Thames.

Philip grinned. He rather enjoyed seeing his sister as the fierce duchess.

She squared her shoulders, raised her slender arm, and poked Frazier in the chest. “You are a foolish man,” she said without preamble. “And you obviously don’t know the Duke of Rowan very well or his history with his daughter.”

“Ah ken the history,” Frazier stated. “But he’ll nae want his granddaughter ruined as his daughter was by turning her out with nothin’. He’ll bless the marriage and give Anne a proper dowry.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Amelia demanded.

Frazier shifted from foot to foot, and as he did, Miss Anne caught her breath sharply.

Damn the man. Philip would gladly kill him if he were the murdering sort. He wasn’t, but threatening wasn’t below him. Philip caught Frazier’s eye. “I’ll hunt you like the dog you are if you don’t either come back to Rowan’s and properly ask for Miss Anne’s hand or tell the lady the truth of how you really feel about
her
.”

“He’ll nae give his consent,” Frazier growled.

Philip nodded. “Probably not, but if faced with his granddaughter running off or a proper wedding, perhaps he’ll agree a proper wedding is the best choice.”

“And what of her dowry?” Frazier grumbled.

“There is no dowry!” Philip snapped.

Frazier simply stared through him, as if lost in his own thoughts. “I’ll nae be holdin’ any cards in mah favor if Ah do as ye say.”

Philip winced as Miss Anne’s face went white. She swallowed audibly. “Why does a dowry even matter? I love you, Ian.”

Frazier pressed his lips into a thin line. “Ye’re bonny enough, Anne, and we would’ve rubbed along fine, but marriage is business fur me. Ah need the dowry.”

Tears leaked down Miss Anne’s face as she nodded. “I understand. You’ll not marry me unless you know you’ll get a dowry?”

He shrugged. “Aye.”

Then she surprised them all as she slapped him. The contact of her palm against his face broke the momentarily silence like a clap of thunder. Philip went to her and took her arm as she leaned heavily against Amelia.

Jemma’s sister turned her tearstained face to him. “Please take me home,” she said in a calm voice. Philip gazed at Miss Anne, not so very different from Jemma, after all. Miss Anne was strong. Stronger than she knew. Bold, too, just like her sister.

He nodded and caught Amelia’s eye. “Take her to the carriage. I’ll be right there.”

After the coachman helped Amelia and Miss Anne into the carriage, Philip faced Frazier once more. “You’re a bastard,” he swore.

“Aye,” Frazier returned. “In more ways than ye ken. I’m just tryin’ ta survive, Harthorne. Something ye ken all too well.”

Philip’s nostrils flared. He did
ken it
, as Frazier had said, but he hated that he did. “Stay away from Miss Anne or you’ll find yourself staring at the barrel of my pistol.”

Frazier grinned. “Fair enough. And Miss Adair?”

“I will rip your heart out if you go near Jemma,” Philip growled.

“And ye say the lady is nae but a friend.”

Philip turned on his heel without responding and strode back toward his carriage. The way he was feeling about Jemma was a problem. He had to get himself under control, and he meant to do just that before he saw her again. He’d keep a coolness about him this time, too.

J
emma sat across from her grandfather at the dinner table, Anne’s chair empty beside her. Grandfather stared at Jemma over the rim of his wineglass. “Why is your sister not present?”

Jemma cast her eyes down and patted her stomach. “Her time is giving her—”

Grandfather coughed. “I see. I see. Tomorrow, I think we should go to the museum.”

Jemma smiled and nodded as she stuck a bit of ham in her mouth and chewed. It was a good thing the idea of conversing upon a woman’s monthly flow left Grandfather acting like a ninnyhammer. She was entirely too worried to come up with another excuse as to why Anne was absent.

The rest of dinner ran smoothly, if one could call barely being able to get down food because of one’s nerves
smooth
. By the time Jemma crawled into her bed, she was certain her anxiety would keep her up, but when she awoke late the next morning, she could not recall actually ever laying her head upon the pillow.

She supposed her worry must have truly exhausted her. She glanced over at Anne’s empty bed, and her chest tightened painfully as she silently prayed that Philip had caught up with Anne before she’d become Mrs. Ian Frazier. She did not think Grandfather would simply hand over the dowry, though she was sure this time he’d make certain Anne knew he cared for her. And as for Frazier, Jemma suspected he did not love Anne.

She lay in bed for some time, staring at the ceiling and trying to think of another reason why Anne was not out and about. She would try the same one she’d been using, but she suspected Grandfather would only accept that for so long before he simply demanded to see Anne to make sure she was all right.

When Eliza came in to help Jemma dress she informed her that Grandfather was in an astonishingly bad mood, as he’d paid a call on Lord Glenmore and threatened to shoot the man if he ever came within spitting distance of Jemma again. Despite her stomach turning with worry, she had to grin at the image of her grandfather marching over to the Wynfells’ estate and threatening Lord Glenmore on her behalf. But what was Grandfather thinking? He was supposed to stay calm for his heart, not work himself up! He couldn’t go about putting himself in danger for her.

For her! She paused with her hand on the doorknob of her bedchamber and turned to Eliza. “My grandfather put himself in harm’s way for me?”

Eliza nodded and gave her an odd look. “Yes, Miss Adair.”

He loved her. In that moment, it sunk in all the way to her heart and settled there.

Eliza glanced at her and opened her mouth as if she was going to speak, then shut it.

“What is it, Eliza?”

She bit her lip. “His Grace specified we not say anything because he wanted you to come to be fond of him on your own, but...”

“Go on,” Jemma urged.

Eliza nodded. “Before His Grace left to retrieve you and your sister from America, he had your bedchamber redone and spent hours at the dress shop looking at material and demanding the finest fabric be ordered from Paris for the two of you. He had the gardens planted with fresh flowers in colors two young ladies would appreciate. He even had dinners here for acquaintances he’d not bothered with in years so he could ensure, as much as he could, that the
ton
would accept the two of you back into Society.”

Jemma’s breath hitched with the newfound knowledge of all her grandfather had done. “I had no idea,” she murmured, awed, moved, and incredibly remorseful that she had wasted so much precious time being angry with him when if she had just talked to him, so much misunderstanding and confusion would have been resolved. Sadness pressed down on her chest when she thought of her mother and how she had truly thought Grandfather had not loved her. Jemma’s heart raced. She wanted to see him and tell him again how glad she was that they had talked before it was too late, but she didn’t know what to say about Anne yet.

She nibbled on her lip. She could say Anne had taken a walk, for now, and come up with something else later. She flung open the door and hurried down the stairs.

She located him as he was coming through the terrace doors, crop in hand and the smell of horse lingering on him.

“Have you been riding?” she asked incredulously.

“Of course. I ride every morning. Why wouldn’t I ride this one?” His brow had come together in a quizzical frown, which utterly frustrated Jemma. He knew why he shouldn’t ride!

“Your heart,” she said, not that he truly needed the reminder.

“My heart?” His frown deepened as his eyes popped wide. “Yes, my heart!”

Jemma eyed him suspiciously. Whatever was going on? “Surely you did not forget your heart.”

“Er, I hardly think of it when I’m feeling well.” He patted his chest. “I feel healthy as a young lad today.”

She hooked her arm through his and led him to the nearest chair, which was a high, dark-wood-and-leather elbow chair placed against the wall near a tripod table. Once he was seated, she knelt down beside him. “I insist you take care of yourself! I want you around for years and years to come.”

He blinked in obvious surprise. “Er, why, thank you, Granddaughter.” He patted her on the arm clumsily. She knew he was uncomfortable with showing emotion, but she was determined to get him used to it, little by little.

“Eliza told me all you did for me and Anne before we came to England, and I want to thank you.”

He frowned. “She was instructed to say nothing.”

Jemma grinned. “I’m so glad she did. Please take my heartfelt thanks.”

“No need.” He waved a hand at her.

“There is a need,” she insisted vehemently, her chest burning with the words she needed to say. “If only I’d talked things through with you sooner, it would have saved us both heartache, I do believe.”

He smiled, a large warm smile. “I feel the same, Jemma, my dear. I was not raised to show emotion but to be stoic and proper, ever the duke. The only exception I ever made was when alone with your grandmother, and I know that has hurt people. I will try to change for you and Anne. Speaking of Anne, where is she?”