Read Online My Enchanting Hoyden (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel, #3) by Julie Johnstone - Free Book Online Page A

no longer sit still. “The best chance I have of achieving that result quickly is to become more like you and Scarsdale. Do you agree?”
    Aversley tugged on his cravat. “I’m almost afraid not to. Your face is mottled red. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you worked up. You’re usually the calm one.”
    “This is the new me,” Philip growled. “Being calm has gotten me nowhere.”
    “Does the new you have a candidate in mind?”
    All the wind left Philip’s sails then. He sunk further into the chair and propped his booted feet on Aversley’s desk. The old him would have never been so rude, but this was the new him. “No. That is a minor problem in my plan.”
    Aversley smirked. “Does the new you even know which debutantes in the ton have large dowries?”
    “No. Which is one of the reasons I’m here. Do you know?”
    Aversley barked with laugher. “Why the devil would I know that? I’m married, for one, and I never cared about that, either. You know who would be privy to that information, though...”
    “I cannot involve my sister,” Philip snapped. “She’d never approve. She’s a woman and has never understood about a man’s pride.”
    When the door to the study creaked, Philip twisted around to see Amelia sashaying into the room. “Philip!” She rushed over to him and, leaning down, hugged him. “I was thrilled when Colin told me you were coming to supper.”
    Amelia was grinning at Philip as if she were up to something, and that usually meant she was. Philip stood, wishing he and Aversley had been able to finish their conversation but not willing to linger and be waylaid by his sister’s machinations. God only knew what scheme she was concocting. He took a step toward the door, and Amelia moved in front of him and placed a hand on his chest.
    “Sophia told me you raced Jemma in the park today.”
    Jemma. Philip liked Miss Adair’s given name. He’d not known it previously, but it suited her. Jemma was a gem, a rare breed of woman who spoke her mind and didn’t seem to care a thing about the “rules,” nor what people might think when she broke them. Maybe it was because she was American... No, he didn’t think so. Her sister was American, as well, and she was perfectly behaved.
    Amelia poked him, bringing his gaze to his grinning sister’s face once again. “How did it come about that you raced Jemma?”
    An image of how Miss Adair—no, he could no longer think of her as such; she was Jemma—had looked earlier today when she’d challenged him flashed in his mind. She’d flung her unruly red hair over her shoulders and boldly met his gaze with her bright blue-green eyes. Her appearance would make any man with blood coursing through his veins want to tame her. “She challenged me.”
    Amelia cocked her head. “Bold, isn’t she?”
    He laughed. “I suppose so. Which, I am sure, is why you are friends.”
    Amelia laughed, too. “You know me so well, Brother. Do you think she’s pretty?”
    “She has a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.” That he found adorable. It whispered of her free spirit and love for the outdoors.
    Amelia frowned. “That does not answer my question.”
    Philip shifted his weight. Jemma’s voluptuous curves made his hands ache to slide over the gentle swell of her hips, but he couldn’t say that. Her mouth, too plump to be fashionable but perfect for kissing, was both enticing and surely to be her downfall, but he couldn’t say that, either. Devil take it, he didn’t even know why he’d thought it. He hadn’t even known he’d noticed these things about her, not really, until this moment.
    He pulled on his cravat. “She’s lovely, and I’m quite sure will give any man who dares to court her a merry chase.”
    Amelia leaned close to him. “Would you dare to court her?”
    “Why the devil would you ask me that?”
    Amelia bit down on her lip. “Well, Jemma is going to be debuting, and her grandfather is not going to settle a dowry