Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(34)

“Free with their thoughts,” he repeated. A grin pulled at his lips. Which immediately earned him four matching frowns.

“Yes. Their thoughts, my lord,” she said slowly as though speaking to a child. “They are the ideas that move freely through a person’s head…”

He swiped his hand across his mouth burying a laugh, and schooled his features. “Carry on.”

Juliet gestured to his sisters. “I explained they should find a gentleman who values and cares for them as they are, and not one who’d shape them into something they’re not.”

“Which would be respectable ladies,” he muttered beneath his breath.

Prudence swatted him on the arm. “Hush, Jonathan.”

Poppy leaned over and plucked a book from Juliet’s grasp. “Oh do give me this. I’ll explain, Miss Marsh,” she said like a seasoned governess. “Here,” she said, and jabbed her finger at a page. He froze, but his sister seemed unaware of his shocked silence. “We are like this. Isn’t that correct, Miss Marsh?”

“It is,” Juliet concurred.

Saints in heaven. “Did you do this, Juliet?” he breathed, not taking his gaze from the page. The artist who’d captured his sisters had accurately committed to page everything from the crops of black curls to the restlessness of the girls’ slippers poised to take flight from the page.

“I did,” she replied quietly.

He forced his gaze up and met her stare. “Remarkable,” he whispered. You are unlike anyone and everyone I’ve ever known.

“Exactly,” Poppy exclaimed. “These girls are remarkable, and these…” She flipped the page to where a trio of strangers who bore his sisters’ likeness but lacked their spirit, sat poised like good, English ladies. “Well, these are rather unremarkable ladies. Isn’t that right, Miss Marsh?”

Juliet smiled gently at Poppy. “I could not have explained it better myself, Poppy.”

His sister beamed under the praise.

“Which do you prefer then, Jonathan? A lively wife or a dull one?” Prudence interrupted.

Juliet blanched. She pulled her hands close to herself as though she’d been burned, and fisted her skirts.

Jonathan studied her jerky movements, and it occurred to him… Why she doesn’t care for talk of my marrying. Well, that made two of them. He didn’t care to think of marriage, even as it had become his mother’s most favorite topic of discussion. He waited until Juliet’s gaze collided with his, and said, “I’d wed a spirited young lady. A lady of courage and honor. A woman of intelligence.”

Prudence snorted. “You’d wed a paragon who doesn’t exist then, brother.”

Oh, Pru, you’re so very wrong. The lady is beneath your very nose, and you do not even see it. Jonathan winked at Prudence. “You do a disservice to your sex by suggesting such a thing, Pru.”

“So, you would wed her then?” Poppy blurted, shifting his attention back to his youngest sister.

“I’d wed who?”

“A woman who is,” Poppy began to tick off on her fingers, “spirited, a lady of courage and honor, a woman of intelligence.”

“Instantly,” his reply automatic. Then it occurred to him what he’d said. He straightened his legs with such alacrity, he knocked the small table before them and sent the sketchpads tumbling to the floor where they landed with a soft thump. Jonathan gave his head a shake. What in blazes was he thinking? Marriage to Juliet Marshville?

Why the very idea of it was preposterous. A comedy of errors recorded by the cleverest of barbs. He, the dastard who’d won her beloved cottage from her wastrel brother. She, the woman he’d forced to become governess of his unruly sisters.

“What is it, Sin?” Penelope asked. She reached over and touched the back of her hand to his head. “Are you fevered?” She looked to Juliet. “Is he fevered, Miss Marsh?”

Juliet held a palm toward him and then seemed to remember herself. “I’m sure your brother is as healthy as one of the king’s horses.”

He blinked. “Did you just compare me to a horse, Miss Marsh?”

Her delicate shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “They are marvelously reliable creatures. Sturdy. Strong. And healthy.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, unless they catch chill. I had a magnificent mare, a white beauty with black spots.” Juliet bent down and retrieved the sketchpad he’d knocked to the floor. She shuffled through numerous pages, and then paused, holding up the book to display an expertly drawn horse. Juliet pointed to the page. “She always reminded me of a blank canvas. One day she fell ill and…” Her words trailed off as she suddenly seemed to realize four pairs of eyes were fixed on her with varying degrees of interest and curiosity for the uncharacteristically loquacious response from the usually stoic governess. She snapped the book closed, set it down on the table, and cleared her throat. “I believe it is time for our morning walk, my ladies.” She sprung to her feet like a fire had been set to her toes.

Jonathan remained seated, grinning up at her obvious attempt at escape. “Do you encourage vigorous activity in a young lady, Miss Marsh?” Because he could imagine all manner of vigorous activity vastly preferable to a mere morning walk. All of which involved just the two of them, sprawled naked in his bed.