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

snorted. “Your voice just faltered. Try holding your breath before you tell a lie. These are the things all proper English ladies know. But you are American, after all.”
    “Jemma and Anne!” Grandfather’s voice boomed from his study. Jemma jerked where she stood, then cursed under her breath that the old goat ruffled her so.
    Mrs. Young departed with a snicker, and Jemma pushed her shoulders back, tilted her chin up, and took Anne’s hand. “All will be well.”
    Anne nodded, even as she sucked in her lower lip.
    As they strolled into the study, Jemma’s gaze went to Grandfather’s desk but found the chair he usually sat in was empty. She located him in a small, blue velvet chair with delicately carved arms. She knew it had been her grandmother’s chair. She furrowed her brow. With his long legs and solid build, he looked positively stuffed into the tiny chair. Whyever would he sit there when he had so many more comfortable, more spacious options? Could it be that he actually missed her grandmother? She shook her head. No, the man was too cold to miss anyone.
    Without looking up from what he was reading, he said, “Sit,” as if commanding two dogs, and flourished a hand toward the settee opposite him.
    Jemma and Anne sat, pressed close together, and waited in silence for him to speak. The longcase clock ticked the seconds by, and Jemma felt her temper start to rise at his high-handed treatment. She narrowed her eyes. What the devil was he reading anyway? She leaned nearer to check the title, barely held her gasp in, and nudged Anne.
    Anne gave her a questioning look as Jemma jerked her head at the magazine for ladies that Grandfather was reading. Anne’s eyes were like twin pools of astonishment when she met Jemma’s gaze.
    Grandfather lowered the magazine and nodded to Anne. “You look well today, Granddaughter.”
    That was the only compliment he ever gave.
    “Thank you,” Anne murmured.
    “I had something special made for you debut.”
    A genuine smile lit Anne’s face that made Jemma smile, as well. “What is it?” Anne asked graciously.
    Grandfather stood, went to his desk, and retrieved a box with the hand that was not holding the magazine. He brought the gift to Anne and stood over them as she opened it. Inside was a pair of lovely white satin slippers.
    Jemma frowned. It was nice, a startling gesture of thoughtfulness and kindness from a man who had not showed either of them any true affection since meeting them six months prior, but it was odd.
    “Er, thank you,” Anne said.
    Grandfather chuckled, and Anne and Jemma both flinched in surprise. “Pick them up,” he instructed. “One has a thicker heel than the other to accommodate the leg that is shorter.”
    Anne picked it up with an exclamation of delight and jumped up to hug him. To Jemma’s amazement, he didn’t disentangle himself as he usually did when Anne tried to hug him, but he did have a pained, uncomfortable look on his face that twisted his features as he stood there, stiff as a board. When Anne released him, Jemma heard his sigh of relief. What her poor grandmother must have endured being married to such a cold man...
    As if he knew she was thinking of him, he trained his piercing blue gaze on her. “You are your mother’s daughter,” he said in an emotionless tone.
    Jemma arched her eyebrow. “I don’t suppose that’s a compliment?” she replied, her irritation at his utter lack of emotion making her forget to temper her tone so she would not sound as snarky as she felt.
    “I don’t suppose it is today. Mrs. Featherstone is beside herself that you and Anne slipped out of the house this morning without her. You’re not to go out without your chaperone. Am I clear?”
    “Yes, but I don’t need a chaperone. I’m perfectly capable of—”
    “Getting into trouble,” he interrupted sharply. “I know of your race in the park today. For a smart girl you make incredibly stupid decisions. You are in London now. There