Ruin Me Please

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Ruin Me Please Page 2

by Nichole Matthews


  Adele Peregrine, their father’s only sister, was reclining on a chaise. She had lived at Rosebriar ever since her betrothed died during a botched wager. It was all quite tragic, thrown from his horse breaking his neck. After that, she swore she would never marry and she never did. Now in her early fifties, she considered herself a happily confirmed spinster. It was her belief that one was afforded true love only once in their life and so far, in the Peregrine history that philosophy rang true. The third Marquis of Ashford designed Rosebriar for his bride-to-be Lady Rosamond Sutton. Unfortunately, soon after, she died while giving birth to their only son. He chose to remain unmarried for the rest of his life. Poppy’s father never remarried after the sudden death of their mother and Aunt Adele swore that there would never be another for her. Poppy hoped that the same would ring true for her, except for the dying part. She longed for a grand love match, one that poets would write about for generations. Poppy was aware that it was a silly notion, but could find no fault in dreaming.

  Poppy tugged the rose corded bell pull and continued talking. “I will be unable to accomplish all of this planning on an empty stomach.”

  “First, I must post my letters today if they are to be received in time. I am inviting Chloe and Freya and it is my express wish that they arrive within a fortnight, precisely when Parker’s friends will be arriving.” Poppy’s lips curved and she crossed her arms over her chest in a smug manner with her left brow raised. “His exceedingly handsome, unquestionably eligible, immensely wealthy, and titled friends.”

  “How fortuitous.” Adele beamed. The lace cap, covering her silver hair, fluttered as she slanted an assessing glance at Poppy. Still very attractive, she stood head and shoulders above the twins. Most days she spent in the sitting room on the chaise with a book or at the school she sponsored, entertaining the children and playing with the babies. Her generous sponsorship was what kept the school running so well. Her father had left a substantial unentailed property near the edge of Ashford that she had converted into a school for girls. Her determination to remain a confirmed spinster left her without children of her own and she was able to still indulge her nurturing nature by taking care of those lost little girls. “Who has Parker invited?”

  “He would not say.” Poppy chewed on her thumbnail, her eyes narrowed. “In fact, he was being decidedly secretive.”

  “Your little spies were of no help?” Piper’s lips twitched, she sat in the chintz covered spindly-legged chair with tiny red roses and pink stripes. Parker swore that chair looked like it would topple over the minute someone sat down. He refused to sit in it, positive that he would end up in the floor. This was the most feminine room on the lower level of the house. Their father had insisted that there be some indication that a woman lived in the house when guests arrived. This room also housed the final portrait of their mother. It hung above the pink veined marble fireplace.

  “None at all,” she said with frustration clear in her voice. “It’s as if he has deliberately kept his plans to himself.” She harrumphed, circling the rose velvet settee.

  Piper asked, “What has you in such a lather? You can have friends visit at any time. What is so special about now?”

  “Because Piper, I’m at a loss.” She threw her hands up in the air. “We have been out for three years. Three years! Chloe and Freya have been out the same.” Poppy glanced at her twin. “Why shouldn’t we endeavor to snare one of the rakes Parker has invited while they are comfortably ensconced at Rosebriar for a fortnight? I have yet to find another gentleman in the ton worthy of my consideration.”

  “Perhaps you’ve set your standards too high?” Adele interjected drolly.

  “Impossible,” Poppy retorted. “Why must I settle for an inadequate husband? It is after all for a lifetime.”

  “Is Parker aware that your devious scheming involves his closest friends?” Piper inquired with a smirk.

  “Of course, he knows we are inviting friends.” Poppy grinned like a cat with a canary. “Must he be burdened with every tiny detail? He has so much to dwell on already.”

  Piper snorted, “Are you planning on marrying one of these men?”

  “Perhaps.” Poppy shrugged. “It is as good a plan as any.” They were beauties, after all and she knew it was still a wonder to even the Patronesses of Almack’s that neither twin had been snatched up during their very first season. About to reach their twentieth birthday they were both determined to choose only their true love match. “Anything is possible.” Poppy harrumphed. “A houseful of England’s finest rakes would be the perfect environment to find a husband.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “And our competition would definitely be smaller.”

  “Hmm—that is true.” Piper cocked her brow. “They are definitely not the usual gentlemen we would run into at Almack’s.”

  “Reformed rakes do make the best husbands,” Adele murmured as she wrapped her Indian silk shawl more closely around her shoulders.

  Miss Harris agreed with a nod. “Exactly so.”

  “How would either of you know?” Poppy covered a giggle. She found their observations quite comical considering neither of them had ever been married.

  Adele shot Miss Harris a speaking glance. “We’ve been around long enough to hear plenty of stories.”

  “Well, I can tell you that I have met enough of the usual gentlemen at Almack’s to last me a lifetime.” Poppy grimaced.

  “You’ve only had three seasons, darling,” their aunt, replied. “Besides, you are the ones that insist on turning down every eligible gentleman that asks for your hand.” She wagged her finger reprimanding in Poppy’s direction.

  “Three Seasons have been more than enough.” Poppy groaned. Perhaps this was not a well thought out plan after all, but Poppy felt that she had to do something. Time was passing by. Granted it was pleasurable time, but without a husband, she would never be able to have children and she truly desired to have a family of her own.

  “Fiddle!” Miss Harris exclaimed.

  “Poppy you do realize that just because these men are going to be at Rosebriar this summer, doesn’t mean they are going to jump at the chance to marry one of us.”

  “It doesn’t mean they won’t either.” Poppy waved her hand dismissively.

  “Have you ever met a man who believes they are ready for marriage?” Adele questioned with a chuckle. “It’s a woman’s job to make him ready.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Piper questioned.

  Adele’s shrewd gaze traveled over the twins. “First let me see these gentlemen and then I will contribute to the plan. I want to be assured that you are not aligning yourself with a bracket-faced blunderbuss.”

  Piper glanced at Poppy with a grin.

  “I can tell you this,” Poppy said with her arms crossed determinedly over chest. “Once I’ve found him, I’ll do whatever is necessary to get him to the altar.”

  The absence of a husband definitely was not for a lack of trying on what Piper caustically called the fops and fribbles of the upper echelon of society. Both were determined to wait for a man that would appreciate their intelligence as well as their beauty, a man full of passion.

  “I know I refuse to lower my standards.” Piper glanced at her.

  Poppy nodded. “Indeed.” Her smile widened as she pondered the adventure that lay before her.

  “Let me know when you have completed all your scheming.” Miss Harris smiled as she sat at the escritoire waiting patiently for her instructions. She pulled out a quill and a sheet of paper. “What would you like me to write down?”

  Poppy began compiling a list on her dainty fingers, counting each one off until a soft scratch at the door interrupted. “Yes, my lady?” Dobbins inquired.

  Dobbins had been the Peregrine family butler for forty-five years ever since their father had been a little boy. Tall, thin and gray, he epitomized the typical English butler. He took great pride in the running of Rosebriar, nary a spot on the silver or heads would roll. There was
little he did not know about the Peregrine’s and even less that he would not do for them.

  “Dobbins, we are in need of sustenance. We are planning a party.” Poppy’s cheeks glowed with anticipation.

  “Of course, my lady,” Dobbins stated drolly. “We would hate for you all to perish while planning a party.”

  “La, Dobbins, you are too cheeky for your own good.” Poppy laughed gaily. “Luckily, we would not survive without you or else you would be sacked without references immediately.” She chortled. “Should I inform Lord Ashford?”

  Eyes twinkling, “There is no need. As you know I would do anything for you, my lady.” Dobbins inclined his head and soundlessly shut the door.

  “Miss Harris, we must first send notes to Chloe and Freya.” Poppy smiled as she enumerated. “Secondly, we must organize some activities,” she said with a gleeful smile. “I can hardly wait!”

  Poppy paced around the brightly appointed sitting room with her hands clasped behind her. She began her list again. “Please write this down Miss Harris. I think we should title our work today ‘The Prodigious Peregrines Party.’ She spun on the balls of her feet. “Ooh, perhaps that is silly.” She laughed again.

  “Oh do be seated Poppy,” admonished Miss Harris. “You will make yourself dizzy.”

  “Oh pooh,” Poppy’s eyes danced. “I cannot contain myself! I am eager for this diversion. You know I thrive on orchestrating the lives of others, because I seem to fail at orchestrating mine.” She winked mischievously at Miss Harris.

  Setting aside the latest copy of Ackermann’s Repository, Piper looked over the top of her spectacles, with her usual calmness of manner, “Poppy, how can anyone be expected to concentrate with you moving about?” She smiled indulgently. “Besides, you know Parker and his friends will remain in the Billiards room their entire stay. I would not spend a single second worrying about their entertainment. You are only wasting your time.”

  “I cannot agree with you,” Poppy stated with her usual vivacity. “I will make sure that they are included in all of our entertainments. How could they possibly refuse? They are gentlemen.”

  “Very easily,” Piper muttered wryly under her breath.

  Poppy ignored Piper’s comment. “I am so excited that I don’t even care if they refuse to participate. The fact that they will all be in our home for two whole weeks is enough. They can be sticks-in-the-mud for all I care.” She grinned. “Why I cannot even think about sitting still.”

  Miss Harris sighed. “Poppy love, you are incorrigible.”

  “We can put on a play...”

  “Oh, Poppy, you know how much I abhor theatricals,” Piper interrupted on a groan. “I am a horrible actress. I stammer, and my face turns an unsightly shade of red.” Piper shuddered at the thought.

  “I’m fully aware of your nervous impulses,” Poppy acknowledged. “Perhaps you can organize the rehearsal, how about that? I promise I will not force you stand in front of an audience.”

  “Of course I will help however I can.” Piper smiled tolerantly. “But can we not just have a relaxing summer? Must you plan all these activities? After all the parties and balls and teas, I am exhausted.”

  “Of course there will be plenty of time to rest,” Poppy said solicitously. “It’s not as if I am planning every single second of each day. The planning itself would be exhausting enough.”

  “You are too much,” Miss Harris stated with a despairing sigh hiding her smile behind her embroidery.

  “Must I participate at all?” Piper asked.

  “You are such a silly goose, Piper.” Poppy smiled patiently. “Why everyone will think you were the brain child anyway for this. Of course with you being the intelligent one and all,” Poppy said with a syrupy smile. “You and your superior intellect and taste in all things.”

  “Of course, we would not want it to slip that you have a brain in your head. Would we Pea Goose?”

  Poppy crossed her eyes. “I suppose I will let slip the names of your friends, as long as they are beneficial to the outcome of the party. I am not aware of you knowing any lively women. Did you make some new acquaintances this past season that I am unaware of?” She giggled at her quickness of wit.

  “Oh, you are a riot. The ton might get the wrong idea.” Piper held her hand dramatically over her forehead. “Why, two bluestockings in the Peregrine household would be just too much for anyone to dwell upon,” Piper said with a laugh in her voice. “Your secret is safe with me, dear sister.”

  “Girls, how many times must I remind you that making disparaging comments about each other is not lady like?” Miss Harris reprimanded.

  “You know we are only teasing each other, Miss Harris.” Poppy quickly hugged her companion. “Piper likes to make a joke, that’s all.”

  “Might as well give in gracefully, Piper,” Auntie Adele replied.

  Poppy and Piper were as different as night and day. Piper described herself as a ‘bluestocking’. She maintained that intellectual pursuits were of higher importance than social obligations. Why anyone would think that was beyond Poppy’s understanding.

  Hearing the rattle of the teacart on the marble floor alerted the women of the arrival of their desired refreshments.

  Dobbins quietly entered and rolled the cart near the settee.

  “Thank you, Dobbins.” Miss Harris said moving from the escritoire. She had proceeded to pour the steaming brew into the gold-rimmed porcelain tea cups hand painted with red roses on a pink background. Adding milk and sugar to both Poppy and Pipers cups just the way they liked it.

  Miss Harris sat neatly in one of the matching chairs, turned to Piper and handed her a cup of tea. “Have you invited anyone in particular to visit this summer?” She inquired looking over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of her tea.

  “To be sure, I invited Agnes weeks ago.” Piper grinned as she took a sip. “I could not manage a whole summer without her by my side. She will be here in three weeks. Unfortunately she will arrive a whole week after the rest of our guests.”

  “How lovely, Agnes is such a dear sweet, sensible girl.” Miss Harris praised, looking at Poppy intentionally with an arched brow. “Perhaps she can be a calming influence for you this summer,” she smirked at Poppy before taking a dainty bite of her cake.

  Adele sat back with her cup, sipped then fixed her gaze on her two nieces.

  “You would have palpitations Miss Harris if I were ever calm.” Poppy giggled. “Do not wish for something you would not be able to handle.”

  Piper chuckled behind the gold rim of her teacup.

  “Well, shall we try this again?” Poppy’s eyes twinkled with excitement as she took a sip of her tea.

  Poppy loved Rosebriar, the seat of the Marquis of Ashford for about three hundred years, built after a fire had destroyed the original castle. The ruins remained a jumbled pile of rocks and history where she loved to sit and daydream for hours.

  The sitting room door suddenly flew open. “I heard there were tea and cakes.” Peyton said flinging himself on the settee beside Poppy. As he leaned over to grab a cake, he caused her tea to slosh over the rim of her cup nearly splashing onto her skirt.

  Poppy grimaced at his precipitous arrival.

  Georgie, who had been quietly sitting at her feet, was now jumping frantically, vying for Peyton’s attentions. Dancing and yipping loudly at his legs.

  “Peyton!” the four women chorused.

  “Good Lord, do be careful, Peyton. This was mamma’s favorite china. Have a care,” Poppy admonished. “These dishes are irreplaceable.”

  Peyton, heedless of his destructive tendencies, looked around innocently, “Pardon?” Always looking as if he was up to some sort of mischief and for the most part, he was.

  Piper shot him a warning glare.

  Peyton was almost five years older than the twins, but still young in many ways. He was the second son, excessively handsome, exceedingly wealthy and very spoiled. Known as Peregrine to most and Perry to his friends. He
looked more like their mother’s side of the family with his golden blond hair and smiling blue eyes. Peyton was wealthy on his own. He had inherited a small fortune from their grandfather that included his own country estate in Kent. The same location where it is rumored he throws lavish if not lascivious house parties throughout the year.

  “I am famished.” He reached for another of the tiny cakes and popped it whole into his mouth.

  “You are a glutton, that’s what you are,” Piper snorted a very unladylike sound. She was only this animated around her family, close acquaintances, and while dancing. She loved to dance.

  “Oh you poor dear,” Poppy interjected sarcastically. “It has been…” glancing at the ormolu clock over the mantle, “…almost a full hour since you have broken your fast. I don’t know how you have managed for this long.” She rolled her eyes. “I can see you wasting away as I speak, you poor, poor dear.”

  “Amusing, Poppy,” Peyton responded drolly his eyes falling on the papers scattered across the mahogany low table. “It appears that I have walked into a planning session. Just what shenanigans are you ladies up to?” Peyton asked looking around with curiosity as he popped another tiny cake into his mouth and tossed a crumb to Georgie. He glanced up with his clear blue eyes as he ruffled Georgie’s fur.

  Miss Harris laughed. “You’re spoiling him, Peyton.”

  “Please remember that we are also having refreshments,” Piper reminded. “There will not be enough cakes left for us to enjoy with you and Georgie eating them all.”

  “Pardon me, ladies.” He smiled ruefully inclining his head slightly.

  “Your practiced looks will not work on us, Peyton,” Piper reminded. “We are not one of your bird-witted flirtations.”

  “I’m flattered that you would take notice of my activities.”

  “Dunderhead,” Poppy muttered.

  “I am not deaf, dear sister.”

  “Poppy is attempting to organize amusements for the house party.” Miss Harris cut in expertly to assist with avoiding a row between the siblings.

 

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