Scandal Meets Its Match (The May Flowers #7) - Merry Farmer Page 0,5

wealthy wife hear you say that. They abhor anything that skates close to young people having fun. You have enough working against you already.”

Phin’s grin and his good humor flattened. “I resent the fact that a man has to shackle himself to a woman he is entirely unsuited to be with as if marriage is employment intended to provide an income,” he said. “Just as much as I’m sure the ladies resent being forced by social-climbing mothers into marrying men they never could and never will like or respect. Every time I think of those poor creatures being forced to go to bed with their boorish husbands it makes me shudder.”

“Aren’t the ways of the upper classes charming?” Lionel asked in a distracted voice. He finished reading, then straightened and handed the manuscript back to Phin. “Though, for the record, you aren’t a catch. Even if you are sympathetic to the female cause.”

“How terribly kind of you to say so, dear brother,” Phin said, dripping with sarcasm, as he rolled the papers Lionel had finished reading into a cylinder.

Truth be told, he loved his brother more than just about anyone else that he could name, besides their father and sisters. Lionel was more than a brother, he was a true friend. He was also someone Phin stayed up nights worrying about. With his delicate good looks and powerful demeanor, Lionel was a walking target for the busybodies and blackmailers who sought to lure men like him into traps that would land them in prison, the pillory, or worse. It had come as an immense relief over the summer when Lionel had announced he’d given up his fast-living ways to take a steady job as a clerk for the Law Offices of Dandie & Wirth, but that didn’t mean Phin would ever stop worrying about him.

“I am simply being pragmatic,” Lionel said with a refined tilt of his head. He brushed the cuff of his perfectly-tailored, devastatingly fashionable suit and sniffed. “It’s one thing to seek out a woman to marry for money, but Father hasn’t left you much to offer in return. A baronetcy isn’t much in terms of bait for high society ladies swimming in a sea of earls and viscounts.”

“It is when those earls and viscounts keep setting up shop with American heiresses,” Phin told him.

Lionel hummed. “Yes, well, there’s that, isn’t there.” He shot Phin a look that said he knew full well what he thought of Dollar Princesses. One Princess in particular. “Which is why I find this rhapsodizing about Miss Lenore Garrett to be so amusing,” he went on. “She’s engaged already.”

“To Freddy Herrington,” Phin said. He and Lionel both knew enough about which way the wind was blowing that he didn’t need to say more.

“All the same,” Lionel went on with an almost indulgent grin, “good luck with that. Also,” he continued, nodding to the papers Phin carried, “I don’t like that one.”

“You don’t?” Phin stared at the roll of papers in his hands, trying to decide whether to be mortally offended by his brother’s criticism. Writing had always brought him joy in a difficult world. Writing erotic stories that set society buzzing even more so. He was as proud of his work as he was amused by the reaction to it.

“No, I mean, the thrust of the action is fine,” Lionel said, emphasizing the word “thrust” in exactly the way it was meant. “But everyone is going to know you’re targeting poor Lady Agnes Hamilton, which is a positively terrible idea.”

“Her antics at the theater were worth remarking on,” Phin said with a shrug. “Besides which, Miss Garrett gave me a few ideas about how to craft a unique story by mentioning her friend from home.”

Lionel arched an eyebrow at him. “Taking advantage of an otherwise delightful young lady who suffers from a devastating fear of crowds by writing about her being ravished by an intruder after being closeted away by her mother at home is beneath you, Phin.”

“I think it has a rather Rapunzelian feeling to it,” Phin argued.

“‘Rapunzelian’ is not a word,” Lionel replied. “I wish you’d disguise Lady Agnes’s identity more.”

“But hints and innuendos about specific members of society are what cause Nocturne to sell. And you know it has to sell, for all of our sakes,” Phin went on, more conflicted than he wanted to be. It had seemed like a harmless bit of fun to write about Lady Agnes, and, as far as he was concerned, the playful