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

are apparently very different rules for how ladies behave here than those to which you had to adhere in America.”
    She fisted her hands behind her. Not really, but she didn’t want him to know that.
    “I thought perhaps you might need more time to learn how to behave properly,” he continued, “but Mrs. Young informed me of your curtsy lesson in the garden yesterday and suggested you were willfully playing ignorant to irritate me.” He stared at her, unblinking, and despite how hard she willed it not to happen, heat rose to her cheeks. Her grandfather’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. You will cease trying to irritate me. It’s worked, but you will still debut.”
    “But—”
    He dropped the magazine into her lap. “I purchased this for you. I thought you might wish to browse the fashions for your trunks once you are married.”
    Her plan had failed, which meant she now had to move on to a game of cat and mouse. She was, of course, to be the hunted mouse, with her grandfather, she supposed, as the unbending, ever-controlling owner. Truly, he thought her his chattel to govern as he wished.
    Two years. She would be one and twenty in two years. She could do this. She could save the money and run her own bakery. She gripped the magazine so hard that the pages crinkled under her grasp.
    Boiling inside, she flipped open the magazine and turned the pages, stopping at a drawing of a gown that looked particularly daring and scandalous with its low cut. Really, it shocked her, but if she ordered all her gowns created like this one, surely Grandfather would not let her go out in them. She had just found a temporary reprieve to beginning the Season! She grinned until a shadow fell over the page. She jerked her gaze to her grandfather’s and forced a smile that she prayed appeared sweet. “When might Anne and I go into Town and order our gowns for the Season?”
    He waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t you recall being measured by Madame Alexis when you arrived here?”
    Dread curled in Jemma’s belly, but she tried to ignore it. Surely, she had a say in what she wore. “Of course, but I assumed Anne and I would choose our gowns for our debut.”
    “They’ve already been chosen by me,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. Jemma had to clench her teeth to keep from telling him what he could do with his authoritarian ways and debutante gowns. Everything Mother had said about him was true. He was a cold fish who liked to have everyone and everything around him under his thumb.
    She rose on trembling legs. “Might I go now?” she choked out.
    “In a moment. I want to speak to both of you of your dowries.”
    “Our dowries?” Jemma could not help but gape.
    Grandfather nodded. “I’ve decided to settle ten thousand pounds on each of you.”
    Anne gasped, and Jemma’s own breath caught in her throat.
    Grandfather waved a hand at them. “No thanks are necessary.”
    “Thank you,” Anne quickly murmured.
    Thank him! Jemma grasped at her neck, finding it difficult to get air. This was dreadful. A dowry would bring out all sorts of rakes desperate to marry her for the money. She could well imagine two long years of trying to avoid marriage proposals. That dowry did her no good. No good at all. She wanted no part of marriage.
    Grandfather eyed her for a moment, then said, “My stipulation with your dowries is that they must remain a secret. After my experience with your father seducing your mother right under my very nose, I’ll take no chances with either of you being trapped into marriage with the wrong sort of man because he wants your dowry. Of course, I’m more concerned about Anne.”
    Jemma tensed. “And why is that?” she demanded.
    He frowned at her. “Because you’ll marry Lord Glenmore, of course.”
    Jemma bit her tongue so as not to reply.
    Grandfather studied his nails for a long moment before continuing. “A word here, a whisper there. It won’t be hard to convince the ton that I’ve refused to dower