Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(25)

“Shh,” she whispered. She gestured to the door. “I hear nothing.”

He cocked his head. Odd, he’d expect hearing nothing would be vastly preferable to hearing something. He wrinkled his brow. That is, unless his sisters had tied up Juliet and stuffed a cloth inside her mouth. He growled at the image and reached behind his mother to press the handle. The door sprung open, and four pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction.

Poppy froze mid-dip of her curtsy, while Penelope remained bent at the waist. “Sin!” she cried.

Juliet dropped a curtsy and lowered her head, as the three girls charged toward the doorway, swarming him like the nest of bees he’d inadvertently tumbled from a tree as a small boy.

Jonathan tweaked Poppy’s nose. “I told you not to call me, Sin, Poppy,” he said over her black curls, his gaze on Juliet. Then he registered his mother’s presence. “Er, uh, allow me to perform introductions, Ju…Miss Marsh,” he corrected quickly. Did his mother’s eyebrows dip at that slight slip? “Miss Marsh, my mother the Countess of Sinclair. Mother, Miss Marsh.”

Juliet dropped another elegant curtsy to rival the most polished debutante at Almack’s. “My lady,” she murmured, lowering her gaze.

“Miss Marsh,” Mother greeted, eying Juliet with cautiousness.

Jonathan frowned at Juliet’s subservient greeting. He liked it not at all. He preferred her as his passionate spitfire with her quick hands and proud tilt of her head, not this…this…deep curtsying servant. Then, isn’t that what you had her become, a silent voice jeered.

“Jonathan?” his mother asked.

He blinked. “What was that, Mother?”

“I merely inquired after Lady Emmaline and Lord Drake’s—”

Bloody hell!

Poppy looked pointedly at him, and he gave a faint, nearly imperceptible nod. She launched into a great, big gasping, choking fit.

“Oh, my goodness,” Mother cried and rushed over to her.

Poppy coughed so long and loud, tears streamed down her cheeks. Her delicate shoulders trembled from the force of her choking.

Mother pounded her daughter between the shoulder blades, even as Juliet rushed forward to help.

Jonathan caught Poppy’s gaze, and the youngest of his sister’s gave a slight wink. He buried a grin behind his hand. Well done, Poppy. Well done.

Juliet’s lithe frame went taut. She looked first to Poppy and then to Jonathan and back to Poppy. Her eyes narrowed.

And he knew his quick-witted Juliet detected his responsibility in Poppy’s dramatic showing. Then he met Prudence’s narrowed gaze. She looked between him and Juliet, far too clever for her five and ten years.

Prudence opened her mouth…

“I was thinking perhaps Miss Marsh might take the girls shopping for some ribbon,” he said smoothly.

Prudence’s lips snapped together.

Penelope clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, Sin, you’re the dearest, most magnificent brother. You must join us.” She bounded across the room and wrapped her hands around his arm. “Do say you’ll join us.”

Normally, he’d rather walk through a cemetery in the witching time of night than go shopping with his troublesome sisters. Today, well, today was a different matter entirely. “Of course, I’ll join you,” he assured them.

Mother gave him a pleased smile. “You are a dear brother,” she concurred. But she made no further mention of Juliet’s connection to Lady Emmaline and he considered the day a perfect success.

So it was nearly thirty minutes later, he and Juliet strolled beside one another, trailing behind his three loquacious sisters down Bond Street. His sisters paused periodically to glance inside window-shops.

“I understand what you did a short while ago, my lord.”

“What I did?” he murmured, tipping his hat in greeting to passing familiar lords and ladies.

Juliet kept her gaze trained forward on his sisters’ backs. “The fit of coughing on Poppy’s part. And then your sudden offer to take the girl’s shopping.”

He smiled down at her. “Is there something wrong with being an attentive brother?”

“There is something wrong in indulging troublesome behaviors, my lord,” she returned.

He bristled with indignation. Certainly the girls had gone through any number of governesses, and they were a bit cheeky, but troublesome behaviors? It was one thing acknowledging it himself, quite another to hear the scolding in Juliet’s tone.

“As long as you make excuses for them, my lord, they’ll continue to move through their governesses.”

His heart paused inside his breast. “You intend to give up your post, then?” Regret tugged at him.

She gave a flounce of her crimson curls. “I’ve no intention of leaving until I help your sisters become the proper, English ladies you’d have them be, and I have my cottage returned to me.”

So, never. Good. Vastly preferable to her tendering her resignation.

The girls rushed ahead to a familiar shop front and pulled the door open. They spilled inside.

Juliet paused outside and stared at the door they’d disappeared behind. He could all but see her composing a mental list of all the areas in need of a governess’ attention.

Too-loud public laughter. Unladylike paces. Walking without confirming the presence of their chaperone.