Read My Enchanting Hoyden (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel, #3) for Free Online Page B

course you do,” she said, irritated at herself that she was having so much fun verbally sparring with him. That would not do. One moment it was simple conversation, and the next you forgot to be cautious, and before you knew it, your heart was engaged. “Good day to you, Lord Harthorne. You can send the money you owe me through your sister, Amelia.”
    He nodded. “All right. Good afternoon to you, Katherina ,” he said with a chuckle.
    She snorted and turned Sophia’s horse away without a backward glance. Though, heavens, she truly did have the urge to look back.

“P hilip, darling, what are you doing?”
    Philip De Vere, Earl of Harthorne stuffed the creditors’ notices littering his desktop into the drawer, forced a jovial smile he hadn’t felt in months, and turned to face his mother as she strolled into his study. He swept a hand toward the foolscap in front of him that he’d been about to jot a note on for Miss Adair, to accompany the money he owed her from their race that morning.
    “Just writing a note,” he said. “What brings you to my office on this fine, sunny day? Shouldn’t you be out riding about in the carriage or visiting with one of your friends?”
    Philip’s mother sat across from him in a noticeably threadbare gown that made him frown. She ran her finger along the worn, faded edge of what used to be his father’s favorite chair before his father had died and left them in shocking debt. She looked so small and helpless in the enormous rose-colored armchair.
    Her brows dipped as she stared at him. “Never mind the lovely weather and my friends. You look worried.” Her hands twisted together as her blue eyes locked on his. “Are you? I mean to say, are the finances still excellent?” Her voice held the quiver of one who had been forced to worry about many things in her life, and it made Philip’s heart ache.
    The finances were not excellent. He was sure he had never used that word, or maybe he had when he’d been blindly hopeful last year that this year’s crop would be better, that he’d be able to pay his sister Amelia’s husband, Aversley, back for the loan Mother knew nothing about, and that all would be well. But the damned rain was ruining the crops again. Philip couldn’t even commit to saying the finances were decent . They were far from it. He was still deep in debt. They were precariously close to not being able to afford food once again, as they had been immediately after Father had died.
    Philip ground his teeth. Wagering with Miss Adair earlier in the park had been foolish, reckless, and wholly unlike him. And he’d purposely let her win on top of the initial idiocy of agreeing to the wager.
    “Philip?” His mother’s prompting jerked him back to the moment.
    He pulled his gaze from the window and glanced at her. What to say so she would not worry, yet ensure he was not lying? The words had to be just right. He could not tell his mother about the crops, and he could never let her know that they were so near running out of money that even buying necessities such as food was going to be difficult. The last time their situation had been so dire, she’d turned to laudanum to cope. He had to protect her now as he’d failed to do previously.
    Philip raked his hand through his hair, trying to ward off the familiar feeling that he was drowning. If you’d asked him when he was a young lad if he would grow up to be a man who worried about finances he would have laughed. Money had never meant much to him. They’d had enough for a happy life, and he’d never desired more. As long as he had food to eat, poetry books, and the supplies he needed to write, he had everything he required.
    “Philip?” His mother’s voice hitched, and lines of worry etched additional creases into her face.
    “There is no need for you to be worried,” he assured her, which was perfectly true. He’d do all the worrying for both of them.
    “Oh, thank goodness!” she cried as a genuine smile