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

Damnation! Even providing new gowns for one of them required money he didn’t have, but he’d barter his soul to the devil before giving his mother a reason that might drive her back to laudanum.
    Philip’s pulse ticked up a beat.
    “Philip, honestly,” his mother chided gently, “you’re not acting yourself at all.”
    “I’m not feeling myself.” He was feeling rather trapped by life, his station, his obligations. Writing poetry had always provided an outlet to escape these feelings, but the poetry was not coming to mind anymore. His worry had ripped the creativity from his mind.
    “It’s the heat,” she declared and fanned herself.
    He cleared his throat and forced out the words that would heap yet more debt on his head. “Of course we’ll help Eustice.”
    “Wonderful! But there’s one more thing...”
    Mother shot him an apologetic look that made his gut spasm. Of course, there was one more thing.
    “She’ll be living with us until she secures an offer of marriage.” Mother stood and smoothed out the folds of her gown. “But of course, I’m sure you assumed that since she does not live in London and we are sponsoring her.”
    He’d assumed nothing because he was too busy worrying about their finances. Enough of that. Wallowing in misery would not help matters. He had to come up with the money somehow. He’d not let his mother down as his father had done.
    She came around the desk and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad we had this talk. I’m off to the dress shop.”
    “Have fun,” he managed to choke out as he watched her disappear. He stared at his desk for a moment, his thoughts turning. He picked up his quill pen, dipped it, and sat there. What options did he have to set his debts to rights and get the lands back into shape so they would once again earn money?
    He wrote the number one and then sat, listening to the incessant tick of the longcase clock while grinding his teeth. He could think of nothing except one thing. With a loud groan, he wrote, Find a lady with a large dowry to marry.
    The notion made him shudder. He threw the pen down and stared at his only option. He’d always hoped he’d marry for love as his mother and father had done. He’d grown up seeing how happy they were compared to his friends’ parents who had married for convenience, and he knew he wanted love above all else. Even when Mary had broken their engagement because she’d found a lord with more money and a loftier title, he’d not become jaded against love. Well, he had, but he’d pulled himself out of it. After getting completely foxed, of course.
    He’d not thought all women insipid creatures who cared for nothing beyond a rich husband with a grand title, and he’d presumed one day he would meet the woman he was meant to be with, a woman who would appreciate who he was, poetry and all. Hellfire.
    He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against his desk, making the inkpot rattle. The only way he could save himself, Mother, and Cousin Eustice from financial ruin without making them suffer social leprosy was to sacrifice himself on the altar of matrimony. There was no choice. Borrowing more money was out of the question if he wanted to keep a sliver of pride and be able to live with himself.
    He stood, feeling as though he was going to go mad, and started pacing the room. Perhaps he’d find a lady he actually loved who also had a title. It was improbable but not impossible. He gathered his coat and put it on. He needed to speak to Aversley and admit he could not yet pay his brother-in-law back. The man might even have some notion of who the wealthy debutantes were this Season. Just the thought made Philip’s stomach turn. He started out the door and paused, remembering he still needed to write to Miss Adair.
    He quickly penned the note and fished ten pounds out of his desk drawer, money that he had no business giving to the lovely, yet sharp-tongued Miss Adair, and made haste to Aversley and Amelia’s