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Authors: Michelle Willingham

Tags: #Historical Romance, #London, #Love Story, #Regency Romance, #Romance, #Scotland, #Scotland Highlands

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BOOK: Unraveled By The Rebel
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Instead, she’d hidden herself away with her aunt’s family. It was impossible to demand marriage of her when she’d simply
disappeared. But now that Juliette had returned, there was time to pursue her once more.

He was the Earl of Strathland, and his fortune would only grow larger as he increased his wool empire. He could have any wife he wanted.

And he intended to have Juliette.

Brandon smiled to himself. She would quickly learn that he was not a man to give up. There were ways to ensure her agreement to a marriage, and he had little doubt that her family would agree to the match.

Especially now that they had hardly anything at all.

Chapter Four

L
ONDON, TWO WEEKS LATER

“A
re you truly making another list?” Amelia stopped her pacing to peer over Margaret’s shoulder. “You’ve met all of these men before. Haven’t you decided yet?” Personally, Amelia couldn’t believe a list was even necessary. Either you liked a gentleman or you didn’t.
She
knew which gentlemen she preferred, but the chance of those men remaining unwed in the next two years was unlikely. Sometimes being sixteen was unbearable. But at least it was better than being twenty and unwed, like Margaret.

Her sister dipped her pen in an inkwell and continued numbering down the page. “Some of the men had problems. For example, Viscount Lisford has been known to frequent White’s on a regular basis.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Most men do.” Playing cards at White’s was hardly a reason to drop the man to a lower rank upon the list, though Amelia secretly believed the viscount was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Thank goodness Margaret didn’t want him.

“If he plays cards frequently, then he is more likely to fall into debt. As our uncle did,” she warned. “Or perhaps he is already indebted and is trying to recoup his losses. Either way, he is not a good candidate for marriage.”

“I know who
you
want,” Amelia said. “A foreign prince with enough money to give you a palace dipped in gold.”

Her sister sighed. “No, I don’t want that. But I do want a man who is polite and well-bred.”

“A boring man, you mean.”

“A proper man.” Margaret set her pen down and eyed Amelia. “You ought to be considering the same.” She smiled and added, “Remember, His Grace is going to give us all a Season, and we’re to be presented at court.”

Personally, Amelia had no desire to curtsy before royalty. She’d likely trip over her train and fall flat on her face. But she did want to marry well, and so she’d suffer through it.

Flopping back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. “I suppose you’re happy the house burned down. Now we have to live in London until it’s rebuilt.”

Margaret set down her pen. “What a horrid thing to say. Of
course
I’m upset that we lost the house. But I’ll confess, I am glad that we’ll be here for the new Season. And I’m grateful to His Grace, the Duke of Worthingstone, for his generosity.”

“You’re jealous of Victoria, too,” Amelia chided. “Because she had a duke dropped on her doorstep.”

“On the contrary, I’m quite pleased for her. I’m not at all jealous of her good fortune.”

That was the answer her sister would continue to give, Amelia knew. “I want a husband who adores me,” she pronounced. “His title doesn’t matter. But if you don’t want the viscount, I shall flirt with him.”

“Amelia,” Margaret warned, “if you’re too impulsive, you could make costly mistakes. If you associate with the wrong man, your reputation will suffer.”

“You’re just afraid I’ll marry before you will. I might,” she said, unable to resist teasing her sister. “Even Juliette could. Dr. Fraser loves her and wants to marry her.”

“But he’s a
physician
.” Margaret shuddered. “She can’t marry him.”

“It’s not as if she’s running away with a peddler.” Personally, Amelia thought Dr. Fraser was perfect for her sister.

“I worry about her,” Margaret admitted. “She refuses to dance with any of the men and seems quite content to be a wallflower.”

“Because she wants Dr. Fraser.” Of that, Amelia was certain.

“She’s changed, ever since she went away with Aunt Charlotte.” Margaret stood and went to stand by the window. “But every time I ask her, she refuses to say a word of it.”

“She’s been pining for the doctor, ever since he left for Edinburgh.
And
he asked her to marry him in one of his letters.”

“He did not!” Margaret’s mouth dropped open. “How would you even know such a thing? Did you read Juliette’s letters without her permission?”

“Of course I did.” And she didn’t feel one bit guilty over it. How else was she to know what was going on? Dropping her voice to a hushed whisper, Amelia added, “Juliette might have asked Mother for permission. And of course, she would say no.”

The idea of a forbidden love fascinated her. Although she’d never played the role of matchmaker, she honestly did believe Juliette would be happiest with the doctor. He might be a rough Highlander, but he was terribly handsome.

The only problem was that it would be impossible for her sister to be with Dr. Fraser if they were separated by hundreds of miles. He needed to be here, in London, so that Juliette would see that they were meant to be together.


Did
she ever ask Mother for permission?” Margaret prompted.

“How should I know? I’m only guessing.”

Margaret rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Because you’re an insufferable busybody who eavesdrops on everyone.”

“Well, not this time.” An idea took root in Amelia’s mind, evolving into a plan. She smiled and added to her sister, “I wonder if Juliette’s
been waiting to elope with him, now that he has his physician’s license. Maybe
that’s
why she refuses to consider anyone else.”

Margaret rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a child, Amelia.”

“Don’t be such a spinster, Margaret.”

The S-word was enough to send her sister into a fury. Margaret ran toward her, but Amelia ducked and went to snatch her sister’s list off the writing desk. “The Earl of Castledon? Honestly, Margaret, he has the personality of a handkerchief.”

“A handkerchief hasn’t got a personality, ninny.”

“Exactly.”

Margaret lunged for the paper, but Amelia dodged her, running away. As she started to read the second name on the list, the door opened and Juliette entered. She was carrying their young cousin Matthew in her arms, gently bouncing him as she walked.

“What are you doing?” Juliette asked, touching the baby’s hair.

“Tormenting Margaret,” Amelia admitted. “I have her list.”

Judging by her reddened eyes, Juliette had been crying again—and Amelia had had her fill of it. She spent all of her time playing with Aunt Charlotte’s son instead of seeking a husband. If she enjoyed children that much, Amelia believed her sister ought to make a genuine effort at marrying and starting her own family. Whether her sister was grieving over Paul Fraser or crying for another reason, it was time to end it.

“I think we should have a Sisters’ Meeting,” Amelia announced. “Take the baby back to his nurse, Juliette, and we’ll talk.”

“Matthew can stay. It’s not as if he’s planning to tell our secrets.” She kissed the baby and cuddled him closer. “That is, if you’re planning to share any.”

Amelia went to the bedroom door and turned the key. “All right, he can stay. I suppose he doesn’t talk yet, so it’s all right.” She sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. “We need to discuss men.”

Her older sisters exchanged embarrassed looks, but that wasn’t about to deter Amelia. “We can’t all want to marry the same
bachelors,” she pointed out. “If we pick the same one, we cannot let it come between us.”

“You choose third, Amelia,” Margaret said. “I’m the eldest and therefore deserve to choose first.”

“She’ll choose second,” Juliette corrected. “I’m not planning to choose.”

Margaret shook her head. “You keep saying that. I don’t believe for a moment that you want to be a spinster.”

“Well, I do.”

Amelia, strongly suspecting it was a lie, exchanged a look with Margaret. “What about Dr. Fraser? He loves you; anyone can see that.”
And you love him back,
she almost said.

“He’s a good man,” Juliette admitted, “but as I said, I don’t intend to marry anyone.”

“Give it a chance,” Margaret urged. “Aunt Charlotte and Mother are doing their best to find appropriate husbands for us. And you’re not even trying.”

Juliette stared at both of them. “Why must every woman marry? Does she really have to have a man to be happy?”

Amelia was shocked at the edge of anger in her sister’s voice. She’d never heard Juliette this upset, but her sister stood and regarded both of them. “I’ve made my choices, and marriage isn’t one of them. I never intend to let a man control me, nor will I ever bear children.”

Margaret was staring at her sister as if she’d just announced her decision to join a convent. “But why?”

Juliette gathered her composure and spoke in a calmer voice. “One of us has to continue Aphrodite’s Unmentionables, since Victoria is now a duchess. Our family needs the money more than ever, especially after the house burned down. Since Victoria can no longer run the business, I shall do so.”

“The duke will take care of us now,” Margaret pointed out. “There’s no need to sell scandalous undergarments anymore.”

“I like them,” Amelia felt compelled to offer. “They’re lovely and comfortable.”

“They’re a luxury only a few women can afford. You can’t even wash them with soap or the silk will fall apart,” Margaret pointed out. “Who wants a corset that can only be worn a few times? Or a chemise made of material so thin, it shows a woman’s bosom if she perspires?”

Amelia glanced down at her own bosom. She wasn’t daring enough to wear a chemise like
that,
but she supposed a husband might like it.

“If no one wanted them, they wouldn’t be selling very well,” Juliette countered. “And whether or not the two of you wish to continue, I intend to.” The baby had fallen asleep in her arms, and she cuddled him close.

“And just how will you sew the garments? You can’t even darn stockings,” Margaret said.

“The same way we did before. I’ll pay the crofters’ wives to make them. They still have the patterns Victoria created.” Her face was flushed, and there was a new light in her eyes that startled Amelia. It was the first time she’d noticed any excitement at all from Juliette in the past few months.

“You want this to be successful, don’t you,” she said. “It’s important to you.”

“Yes,” Juliette answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to visit Madame Benedict’s shop and find out which garments are selling the best.” She stood, careful not to wake the baby.

“Wait.” Amelia stopped her before she could go. “We haven’t finished our discussion about husbands.” She regarded both of her sisters in all seriousness. “Can I have Viscount Lisford?” Despite everything, Amelia was convinced that he would make an excellent husband.

Juliette nodded. “As long as Margaret doesn’t want him first.” With a wicked glint in her eyes, she added, “She
is
older than both of us.”

Margaret let out a heartfelt sigh. “Only if I can have the earl.”

Amelia leaned back with a satisfied smile. “If you like handkerchiefs, he’s all yours.”

“You have a letter,” Cain Sinclair informed Paul. Holding it in one hand, he leaned across the table inside the tavern. The small room was thick with pipe smoke, and men played cards at another table. Paul set down his mug of ale and eyed Sinclair with wariness. They’d traveled south from Scotland over the past few weeks, following the Andrews girls. How on earth could there be a letter for him? No one even knew he’d come to London.

Sinclair passed it to him, and Paul studied the handwriting. “And who is this from?”

“Lady Lanfordshire.” From the way the man was grinning, Paul strongly suspected Cain was lying.

“Liar. She’s still in Scotland, and she wants naught to do with the likes of me.”

Cain only shrugged. “Open it and see.”

Paul glanced through the contents of the letter. It invited him to dwell at their London town house for a few days, until he found his own living arrangements. The girls would remain with their aunt Charlotte in the meantime. He showed the contents to Sinclair in disbelief.

“Why would Lady Lanfordshire allow me to stay in her home? And how did you get this letter?” He didn’t believe for a moment that she would want him there. Especially after she’d set her sights on a titled husband for Juliette.

“It wasna written by Lady Lanfordshire. Her youngest daughter, Amelia, forged her mam’s signature. She thinks you’re still in Scotland and that I’ll have to deliver it to you there. I got it from her when I went to sell some things on behalf of the young ladies.” Sinclair grinned and tapped the note. “So long as you’re
gone by the time Lady Lanfordshire returns to London, there’s nae harm in it. The house is empty. Take the letter to her butler, and he’ll believe it.”

Paul blinked at that. “But why would she do such a thing?”

Sinclair shrugged. “Could be Miss Amelia’s tryin’ to help you. She’s given you a few days, and the servants willna know any differently.”

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