Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(49)

“I know the order, Mother,” he said with a caustic bite to his words. He tightened his hold upon his glass. He’d made a great many sacrifices where his sisters were concerned. He had met with his steward with a regular frequency, verifying his estates were in order and profitable to afford his sisters and Mother the life and luxuries they enjoyed. He’d been a dutiful and attentive brother. And never once had he bemoaned their presence.

Had he enjoyed his freedom these more than ten years now? With certainty. He would not, however, make apologies for having enjoyed that freedom.

His mother appeared at his shoulder. Concern radiated from within her eyes. “I wanted to speak with you on a matter of importance.”

Bloody fantastic. He’d wager Lady Beatrice Dennington and his marital state would somehow factor into this matter of importance. Jonathan downed his port.

“I spoke to Prudence,” she said hesitantly.

He froze. It would appear he’d have lost that particular wager.

Mother cleared her throat. “Prudence mentioned that she came upon you a couple of nights ago. With Miss Marsh.” She said nothing for a long while, instead scrutinized him with that probing stare. “She claimed you called Miss Marsh by her Christian name.”

His sister was a troublesome bit of baggage. He felt a pang of sympathy for the unlucky fellow who would someday take her to wife. He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Just what are you implying, Mother?” he asked with forced amusement.

“I’m not implying anything,” she said blandly. “I’m merely issuing a warning. Miss Marsh is a respectable young lady. You must not…not…” She colored.

“I must not?” he prodded.

“Seduce her,” his mother snapped. “Her reputation as the girls’ governess must remain impeccable. There can be no scandal attached to her name.”

Jonathan carried his empty glass over to the sideboard. He picked up the closest decanter and sloshed several fingerfuls of whiskey into a glass. He wanted to get soused. Absolutely soused. “I’d not seduce her,” he snapped. Even if he’d come very close to doing just that in his library three nights ago. He hungered for her, but he would not lay claim to her body in all the ways he longed to, because he recognized such actions could destroy her reputation. Somewhere along the way she had come to matter more to him than even his own pleasures. His lips twisted, wishing he were in fact the complete rogue everyone took him for.

“I see the way you study her, Jonathan,” his mother said quietly.

He met her gaze over the rim of his glass. “Oh, and how is that?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll not indulge your attempt to bait me. Be warned, you are one scandalous action away from having to find your sisters a new governess.”

The hell he was. He had little intention of sending Juliet anywhere. She was exactly where she belonged. “Is that all, Mother?” he said impatiently.

“We have the dinner party this evening. I expect you there. I’ve put a good deal of effort into planning the evening.”

He yawned. “How could I ever miss such an important event?”

She narrowed her eyes at his sardonic question. “I’d have you take an interest in the gentleman Patrina has set her sights upon. She’s not told me his name, but she is growing desperate—”

He scoffed. “Desperate? She’s but nineteen.”

“Nearly twenty.”

“Still a young lady,” he insisted. “Hardly close to being on the shelf.”

His mother went on as though he’d not spoken, roundly dismissing his opinion. “I worry she’ll be rash in giving away her heart to some undeserving scoundrel.”

Jonathan sighed. Patrina, not only the eldest of his sisters, happened to also be the most rationale and clear-headed of the Tidemore girls. “You do Patrina a disservice with your ill-opinion of her judgment.”

Mother’s lips tightened. “She’ll enter a third Season unwed if we do not have more of a care, Jonathan. She’s growing desperate—”

“This is only her second Season, Mother.”

“Well, all the diamonds of the first water make matches within their first Season. As her brother, it is your role to help arrange a match—”

“Oh, is that my role?” He’d played escort at more respectable events than he’d ever cared to attend. Drank too many glasses of overly sweet ratafia at Almack’s.

“It is,” she tossed back.

For the past twelve years he’d assumed the role of earl, brother, and defacto father. He’d taken his responsibilities seriously and cared for his sisters and mother, but damn it, he was bloody well tired of everyone’s life hanging upon his shoulders. Not when they stood in the way of what he really wanted. Nay, who he really wanted. “I suspected finding a suitable husband was more a dear mama’s responsibility.”

“Very well, it is both of our responsibility. I thought the Marquess of Westfield would make her a splendid match.”

He snorted. “Westfield is a rogue.” Not vastly different in his interests and pursuits than Jonathan, it would seem even as his family found him wanting, they’d found the marquess ideal matrimonial material.

“Westfield is heir to a dukedom.”

Jonathan took a sip of his whiskey, grimacing at the trail it blazed down his throat. “I never took you for a title-grasping mama.” Determined, hopeful for an ideal match for her daughters, but never title-grasping.