The Savage Miss Saxon (43 page)

BOOK: The Savage Miss Saxon

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“Young girls have always liked me,” Sir Wiley said in all modesty, for truth was truth, no matter how thick you sliced it. “It’s the danger they see in me, I suppose, the silly creatures. But not all of them. Araminta Sedgewick is scared spitless of me, but her father likes my aunt’s fortune well enough to turn a blind eye to my past. I’ve stuck mostly to matrons, those ladies who know what they’re doing. But now I have to marry—and you’re telling me I might be able to marry Myrt? I could be that lucky? I thought a rake had to pay for his sins.”

“Then you do love her?” Virginia asked, all but bursting from her skin in her excitement. They were within Ames Ace of doing it—of marrying off all three remaining Noddenly sisters. Who would have believed it?

Then she frowned, remembering the past three days, and all the sisters had gone through trying to make Myrtle presentable. “For goodness sakes, Sir Wiley,
why
didn’t you say so?”

Sir Wiley looked suddenly sheepish, avoiding everyone’s eyes as he said quietly, “I’m a rakehell, a ramshackle bounder, a man with more past than he knows how to hide and barely a regret save that I didn’t start my rambling about at an earlier age and do it twice as much. I’m an unrepentant reprobate who’ll probably be switching signposts for sport when I’m in my dotage. Myrt’s too good for me, and that’s a fact. Too good, too beautiful. And much too honest.”

“Good grief, Ginny,” Jonathan said, laughing. “The man’s in love for certain! There is nothing so moral as a reformed rake—or so self-serving as a rake who wishes to continue raising a ruckus.”

Virginia didn’t quite understand all of what she was hearing (as no woman could), but she had assimilated the two most important points. Sir Wiley loved her sister. And Sir Wiley already believed Myrtle to be “honest,” and “beautiful.”

“Oh, my stars!” she blurted out, turning for the door, hoping to warn Myrtle off before she appeared in the room, resplendent in her new gown and new hair and soft white hands and at least partially smooth, freckle-free skin. Myrtle, Sir Wiley’s “beautiful, honest” Myrtle, had been the recipient of every beautifying artifice known to her sisters, and she had to be stopped before she presented him with her altered appearance—and most probably frightened him off once and for all!

But it was too late, for Lettice Ann and Georgette were already entering the drawing room, smiling broadly as they shielded all but the top of Myrtle’s carroty head from view.

“Sir Wiley,” Georgette trilled merrily, “we have a marvelous surprise for you. A
visitor
—someone you will swear never to have seen before this moment. Isn’t that right, Letty?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, indeed,” Lettice Ann seconded. “Why, if our host, the earl, weren’t already spoken for, I would shudder with fear that he would defect to our newcomer, breaking dear Virginia’s heart.”

“Letty—Georgie,” Virginia fairly hissed beneath her breath, “leave off. Sir Wiley already loves her—
the way she was!
”

“
What?
” Lettice Ann and Georgette were parted like the Red Sea as a transformed Myrtle unceremoniously pushed them to either side and stepped up to Virginia, glaring at her as if she wished her stuck in her own tub of rose water for three days, her hands and feet and knees scrubbed until they nearly bled in order to rid them of callouses. “I’ve gone through the tortures of Hades for
nothing?
And this was all your idea, wasn’t it, my dear, sweet,
meddlesome
Ginny?”

Jonathan, still standing at the drinks table, stared disbelievingly across the room, impressed with the sight of the horsey-faced Myrtle of the too-close eyes and ungainly manners. Not that a miracle had been wrought, but there was a noticeable improvement in the woman’s appearance. Of course, if she could have been made a mute for the evening it might have been considered more of a success.

He looked to Sir Wiley, who was standing as if made into a statue, staring bug-eyed at his rough and tumble beloved, who now looked ready for nothing more strenuous than some fast-paced tapestry embroidering. “God’s teeth, Myrt,” he said, his voice rather strained, “what in blazes have you done to yourself? You look just like everybody else!”

Myrtle tore herself away from her sisters (who were mightily glad to see her go, for they were worried she might box their collective ears at any moment), and approached Sir Wiley at a near gallop, her forefinger pointing straight at his nose. “This is all your fault, Wiley Hambleton. I thought you wanted a lady.”

“A lady?” Sir Wiley responded, confused. “What rot! What would I do with a lady? I want you, Myrt. But you said you’d never marry, and I believed you. You have to take a man at his word, you know.”

“I’m
not
a man, you idiot!” Myrtle shot back, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, smudging the carefully applied lip rouge Georgette had sworn would appear so natural that no one would ever believe the color to be anything but nature’s own. “I’m a
woman!
”

“Well, you don’t act like one!” Sir Wiley countered, shouting even louder than Myrtle, who now stood chin to chin with him as the rest of the party looked on. “Why else do you think I love you?”

Myrtle stood back, momentarily speechless. “You love me? You
really
love me, Wiley?”

“Yes, I do. But I’d love you better if you’d nip off upstairs and climb into your breeches. If we ride hard, we can make Gretna in less than a week. I’ve a mind to marry over the anvil, just to shock Aunt Earlene. Can’t let her have it all her way, now can we?”

“That’s a deal,” Myrtle said, holding out her hand to Sir Wiley, who looked at it for a moment before taking hold of it and pulling her tight up against his chest—whereupon, with everyone watching, he kissed Miss Myrtle Noddenly until her newly soft, white toes curled inside her wretchedly bothersome silk stockings.

Virginia wiped at her moist eyes with the corner of the handkerchief her beloved had wordlessly slipped into her hands, then asked, “We aren’t going to let them run off to Gretna, are we, Jonathan?”

“Yes, my love. We are,” he answered, pulling her close against his side. “I think we owe it to them. It may not be what we want, but I believe we have gotten more than any two people could hope for. Lettice Ann already married, Myrtle to be wed within the week, and Georgette soon to follow the two of them to the altar. You’ll be a June bride, my dear, as promised. And if your Papa doesn’t like it, then he’ll just have to take it up with Myrtle. Lord knows he’d be a stronger man than I if he tried it.”

“You have a point, darling,” Virginia said, sighing romantically as Sir Wiley and a clinging Myrtle exited the room without a word of farewell, and Georgette and her doctor wandered off into the garden, undoubtedly inspired by the kiss that had passed between the eloping pair. “Do you suppose we could return to the Conservatory for a while before we’re called in to dinner?”

Jonathan looked down at her, winking. “Do you have a hankering to inspect the oranges, my sweet?”

“Not really. But I do have a
hankering
to have you continue with what we were doing when the dinner gong first rang,” Virginia told him, refusing to be embarrassed by her own forwardness. “It was, as always, a most inspiring interlude.”

Jonathan Wetherell, fourteenth earl of etc., etc.—a most happy and soon to be fulfilled man—was pleased to comply with his affianced wife’s suggestion.

Thank you for reading
The Ninth Miss Noddenly
. Please visit Kasey on her website at
www.KaseyMichaels.com

Meet Kasey Michaels

Kasey Michaels began her career scribbling her stories on yellow legal pads while the family slept. She totally denies she chiseled them into flat rocks, but yes, she began her career a long time ago. Now Kasey is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of more than 110 books (she doesn't count them). Kasey has received four coveted Starred Reviews from
Publishers Weekly
, three for historical romance,
The Secrets of the Heart
,
The Butler Did it
, and
The Taming of a Rake
, and for the contemporary romance
Love To Love You Baby
(that shows diversity, you see). She is a recipient of the RITA, a Waldenbooks and Bookrak Bestseller award, and many awards from
Romantic Times
magazine, including a Career Achievement award for her Regency era historical romances. She is an Honor Roll author in Romance Writers of America, Inc., and is a past president of Novelists, Inc. (NINC), the only international writers organization devoted solely to the needs of multi-published authors. Please visit Kasey on her website at
www.KaseyMichaels.com
.