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

we, and retire to the card room? I’m told the Duke of Scarsdale is holding court in there as we speak.”
    Jemma wasn’t surprised when her grandfather nodded his head quickly in the affirmative, waved Mrs. Featherstone over, and instructed her to keep an eye on Jemma and Anne. Grandfather likely could care less that Lord Glenmore was more interested in the size of her breasts than anything else, but she cared. The man had a wicked gleam in his eyes that spelled trouble. She’d place all the pin money she’d saved on the opinion that Lord Glenmore’s notion of getting to know her did not fall within the realm of proper English etiquette. And that was one bit of etiquette she liked very much, indeed.
    As Grandfather and Lord Wynfell excused themselves, Mrs. Featherstone pointed to a chair behind them. “I simply must sit down,” she said. “I will chaperone you from the chair.”
    Thank goodness Jemma had Anne. Her twin would never leave her alone with Lord Glenmore. She turned to give Anne a look that conveyed her desperation, but Anne still had her head turned to the dance floor. When Jemma touched her fingers to Anne’s arm, her sister swiveled to look at her, a beatific smile lighting Anne’s face.
    Jemma peered over Anne’s shoulder and searched for what held her rapt attention. She passed her gaze over Lady and Lord Letterbee, Lady Emma, the Dowager Duchess of Darlington, and Mr. Ian Frazier, a notorious railroad magnate who had once fancied himself enamored of Sophia, or rather, in Sophia’s opinion, the large fortune she’d inherited when it was thought for a time that her husband was dead. Jemma started to move on and then snapped her gaze back.
    Surely Anne had not been staring at Mr. Frazier who—Jemma blinked—was striding straight toward them with long, cocksure steps. Jemma narrowed her eyes and tried to picture the man as sweet, innocent Anne would. He was very tall with thick, golden hair, piercing light-blue eyes, and an easy, open smile. The closer he drew the tighter her stomach became. Surely, surely , Anne was wise enough not to fall under Mr. Frazier’s spell. Why, they’d not been around him enough for Anne to fall for him. Had they?
    Jemma quickly thought back. He’d been at the ball Grandfather had given—and at Jemma’s invitation because she’d wanted to irritate Grandfather. He’d been at several dinner parties, a garden party, a musicale... She groaned as he stopped in front of them and Anne let out a little sigh. Heaven above! How had she missed that Anne was smitten? Was this Anne’s secret? Dread filled Jemma. Mr. Frazier was a rake to the core and would break her sister’s huge heart with his big, clumsy hands.
    Mr. Frazier bowed as he came to stand before them. “Good evenin’, ladies.” His Scottish brogue was as thick as ever.
    “Mr. Frazier, might I present Lord Glenmore, and of course, you already know my sister.” Jemma watched them carefully as Anne curtsied to Mr. Frazier and he bowed to her. Were Anne’s eyes locked on him in a dreamy way, or was Jemma imagining it?
    Lord Glenmore offered Mr. Frazier a condescending smile, showing his true nature in her judgment. Lord Glenmore was a self-important addlepate.
    Before she could think of a topic of conversation to fill the silence among the four of them, Mr. Frazier turned to Anne. “Is this dance taken?”
    Jemma silently willed Anne to say, Yes .
    “No,” Anne gushed and didn’t even look at Jemma as she handed her dance card to Mr. Frazier and he scratched his name on it before offering Anne his escort.
    “If ye’ll excuse us,” Mr. Frazier said.
    “Anne!” Jemma gasped as Anne started to leave with him.
    Her sister turned back to her with a beseeching look that Jemma could not ignore. Jemma clamped her mouth shut. One dance in a crowded ballroom would not lead to disaster. Besides, Mrs. Featherstone was watching them. Tonight, when they returned home, she would warn Anne against Mr. Frazier. It