Ruin Me Please Read online

  NICHOLE MATTHEWS

  Ruin Me Please

  The Prodigious Peregrines

  Once you meet them you will do

  anything to please them

  Poppy’s Story

  Nichole Matthews

  RUIN ME PLEASE

  Copyright © 2011 by Nichole Matthews

  Revised addition by Nichole Matthews 2012

  Cover design by Nichole Matthews

  Kindle Edition, License notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  TO MY HUSBAND,

  I AM THOROUGHLY RUINED

  Ruin

  Me

  Please

  PROLOGUE

  What’s gone and what’s past help

  should be past grief.

  The Winter’s Tale

  *William Shakespeare

  Declan’s face was etched with anguish. His dirt-caked boots tapped a lackluster staccato as he paced restlessly back and forth, yet he still found the fortitude to look about the room shrouded in darkness and smelling of sickness. He worked hard to look anywhere but at the deathly pale figure of a man lying on the large four-poster oak bed. Even with his immense effort, his eyes glanced periodically off his brother’s lifeless body taking all of his strength to cage the sob that threatened to break free.

  Archibald, the family’s long time butler, quickly followed him when he bolted up the stairs and stood hovering in the doorway worriedly scanning Declan’s face.

  “Master Declan you arrived as hastily as possible. There was nothing you could have done to stop him; he was damned determined to find the Smith’s daughter.” Archibald made every effort to comfort Declan, to sooth him with words, sensing the rising panic beginning to flare behind Declan’s usually roguish eyes.

  “I would have been able to aid in the search, “he said by way of explanation to no one in particular, fear hammered in his veins. He ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Dammit! Why wasn’t I here?” He thundered. The ravages of guilt marred his typically handsome visage. His brother’s countenance had never been so pale and lifeless; he swallowed and gently brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen across Gabriel’s sweating forehead, his heart constricting painfully at the sight.

  Declan rubbed at his tired eyes before raising them. “But you don’t understand, Archie. I was supposed to be here as well.” He swallowed hard, almost painfully. “Had I been a man of my word, he would not have been alone.” He gripped the bridge of his nose as if to forcibly remove the ache that was slowly building behind his eyes, but whatever power he once though he possessed was slowly dissipating at life’s unrelenting battering to his heart. “He should have waited for me. Why did he not wait for me to arrive?” he yelled, punching a fist-sized hole in the wall. “It was only a matter of hours. Hours for God’s sake.”

  Archibald searched Declan’s eyes. “He was trying to find the child before nightfall.” Archibald could see that his attempt to ease Declan’s mind was not having the desired effect. “There was nothing you could have done.” He placed his hand on Declan’s shoulder. “You could not have stopped him anymore than he could have stopped you.”

  “But I could have helped. I could have helped in the search,” he growled in anger. The repercussion of his selfish actions echoed, rolling like thunder through his mind. “I should have been here, dammit!” he roared. “Instead, I was carousing around London just a little bit longer. One more drink, one more club, one more woman.” Declan angrily punched the nearest wall again his fist bruised and bleeding by his self-inflicted assault.

  “Master Declan? Please, I beg you to calm yourself. Everything will turn out well. You will see. Don’t worry,” Archibald said in a soothing tone.

  “He needed me and I wasn’t here. I have never taken anything seriously.” He threw himself in the chair by Gabriel’s bed with his head in his hands. He growled scornfully, oblivious to Archibald’s attempts to comfort. “I’m not supposed to be the duke. Gabriel is the duke.” Declan bellowed. “I will not allow him die!”

  “Don’t worry,” Archibald repeated, his brows creased into a firm line. He tried his best to ease Declan’s mind. “Do not worry,” he whispered yet again, placing a familiar hand on Declan’s shoulder. “He will be fine, right as rain, you will see.”

  Head in hands, tears stung Declan’s eyes. He sat beside his only brother; anxiously praying as the morning sun lit up the sky once again. “Oh God, what can I do? Gabriel has always taken care of everyone. God, he doesn’t deserve to die like this.” Declan flinched at each thrashing of Gabriel’s sweat soaked body. “What can I do?” He shouted at the ceiling, at God, at whoever would deign to listen before his eyes landed on Archie. “Damn it, Archie, tell me what I’m supposed to do.” He gestured helplessly towards his brother’s bed.

  “Don’t you worry, Master Declan, don‘t you worry,” Archie whispered as he sent up a silent prayer of his own.

  Declan stared down at his elder brother, his best friend. Dragging in a tight breath, he had never seen him so pale, so lifeless, and so utterly helpless. They were inseparable as children and troublemakers together as men; he couldn’t imagine his life without Gabriel by his side. He couldn’t even breathe, his lungs burned, nausea clouded his brain. His brother who was always so full of life was now so completely different.

  Declan swept the room with a wild gaze, “Where’s that bloody doctor?”

  In his feverish state, Gabriel’s delirious mumblings continued throughout the day and each whimper and moan tore at Declan’s heart.

  “Sarah! Sarah! Where have you hidden yourself? Can you hear me?” Moments of clarity mingled with incoherent moans, “Where are you? I know you are here somewhere.” Gabriel kicked off the covers, his sleeping gown twisted around his legs. “I must find her. She must be found immediately.” Gabriel groaned, restlessly thrashing his head back and forth. “We must search more diligently. We must continue the search…” His voice trailed off as his fever worsened and he once more slipped into a deeper unconsciousness.

  Declan staggered forward as Gabriel’s voice trailed off, seizing his now listless hand, crushing it in his grasp.

  Archibald continued mopping the sweat from Gabriel’s body and applied cooling cloths in an effort to bring down the raging fever. “He’ll most likely awaken before long,” he told Declan, anxiously glancing at his tight-lipped, wild-eyed appearance.

  Long moments of peace embedded themselves between Gabriel’s feverish rants and Declan continued diligently with his prayer. “Please God, please God, oh, please God.” When he realized that tears were streaming down his cheeks, he laid his head to rest on the side of Gabriel’s bed. “I cannot do this again. God, why would you do this to me again?” He wished Gabriel would stir, show some sign of life.

  Declan froze when the sound of a clear familiar voice interrupted his prayer. “Ah, there you are Declan; I’ve been searching for you. Shall we saddle our mounts and ride? The weather today is so fine. Would that not b
e excellent fun?”

  Declan raised his head, glancing into what appeared to be the clear green eyes of his brother. He cried out, “Oh praise God! Gabriel you’re awake.” His eyes sought out Archibald relief evident in their depths that quickly faded when Gabriel continued as if Declan had not spoken; his expression turned stricken.

  “You know how upset Mr. Beasley becomes when our lessons are missed.” A dreamy smile touched Gabriel’s lips. “Hurry, let us go before he seeks us out.”

  “Gabe! Gabe! Can you hear me?” Declan cried his face suddenly devoid of all color. “A ride sounds excellent. That sounds splendid,” he said as Gabriel’s hand went limp in his grasp and an unnatural quiet descended over the room.

  His wide eyes jerked towards Archie. Jumping up he grabbed Gabriel’s shoulders shaking him. “Gabriel?”

  Declan blanched, shaking him again. “Gabe!”

  “Gabriel!” Declan cried over and over as tears fell heavily from his eyes. “I’ll have the horses saddled, Gabriel. Wait, don’t go anywhere.” A choked sob escaped. “You cannot leave me here all alone, Gabriel!”

  “Master Declan?” Archibald laid a hand on his back.

  Declan roughly shook Archibald’s hand from his shoulder, a low keening cry escaped his lips. He buried his face in the crook of his brother’s neck, his hands gathering up his lost friend holding him close. “I cannot make it without you. You cannot leave me here by myself.” He sobbed harder and harder. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me Gabriel. Please Don‘t leave me!” He cried, clutching his brother’s lifeless body to his heaving chest. “What am I supposed to do without you?” The last words barely a whisper full of anguish and despair.

  It took three of Allingham Park’s brawniest footmen to pry him away from his brother’s lifeless body.

  The grief-stricken cries of the newest Duke of Hawksley echoed eerily throughout the hall for days.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Love sought is good, but

  Given unsought is better.

  Twelfth Night

  *William Shakespeare

  “Honestly Parker, you would even have me believe we’ve never entertained guests at Rosebriar before.” Poppy’s brow puckered as a mischievous glint lit her bright blue eyes. “You have become such an ogre in your dotage.” Poppy Peregrine was the youngest sister and certainly the most willful sibling of the latest Marquis of Ashford.

  “And you, m’dear, act as if you have been denied your every desire,” Parker retorted at the end of her playful rant.

  It had been three and a half years since Parker became the Marquis of Ashford. For Poppy who had known nothing but goodness the entirety of her life, the loss of her dearly loved father was the toughest lesson she had ever had to learn. One minute he was there, and the next only a bittersweet memory. In the blink of an eye, all of their lives changed.

  “Well, perhaps I am laying it on a bit too thick.” Poppy sighed. “But you make it ever so much fun. Rather difficult to resist.”

  “Poppy, if you have your say, the whole of England will be taking advantage of the seemingly endless hospitality at Rosebriar.” Parker drawled with a good-humored smile.

  “What harm can there be in being hospitable?”

  “Lud," Parker said calmly. “Have you apprised Aunt Adele of your scheming or are you intending to spring these plans last minute on her as well?”

  Parker was the sixth Marquis of Ashford, known as Ashford to all of his acquaintances and Ash to all of his close acquaintances and possibly even a few foes along the way. Well over six foot, dark wavy brown hair, piercing blue eyes, young, titled and with an ample fortune. Women practically swooned when he walked in the room and men turned green with envy. Prodigious luck it seemed in all things.

  Envied by some of the staunchest men of the peerage, who by their own admission had taken considerably less care of their own inheritances, squandering their wealth with no care for their futures or for that of their heirs, they felt it their right and privilege.

  Though considered ruthless to some, Parker had increased the Peregrine wealth regularly by making wise investments and efficiently running the extensive properties entailed him as the current marquis. Taught to be always the dutiful lord of the manor by their father, Parker spent his life insuring the prosperity of the Peregrine family for future generations.

  “You know Auntie Adele is always agreeable to houseguests.” Poppy leaned on the edge of his desk rather smugly. “Would you like me to fetch her to verify?”

  “That won’t be necessary, minx.” Parker frowned, looking down at Georgie who begged for attention at his feet. He looked back up and rolled his eyes heavenward.

  Poppy was all practiced innocence when she went in for the kill. “Surely you would not begrudge your dearest sister a few friends to help ease the dreariness of the country over the summer?” Poppy playfully batted her eyelashes, her hands clasped demurely in front of her.

  “A couple of your friends, a couple of Piper’s friends, a couple of Peyton’s friends and I can only assume that you’ve made allowances for me to invite a couple of my own acquaintances?” He paused for effect.

  Poppy nodded her head in agreement.

  “Will there be no peace at Rosebriar this summer?” He asked with a hint of mock sarcasm.

  With a wrinkled brow, Poppy snorted a decidedly unladylike sound. “When has there ever been peace at Rosebriar?”

  “Touché.” Parker saluted, sighing melodramatically.

  “Parker?” Poppy sidled closer.

  “Poppy you have already concocted some devious scheme and assuredly made some sly arrangements during the season without bothering to consult with me,” he said with his dark winged brow raised. “And now you expect me to fall in line obediently like one of your faithful minions.”

  She dimpled at his speech. “Oh Parker, how can you say that. I would never do anything without your express permission.”

  He tapped the delightful imperfection in her cheek, then shrugged his shoulders as if resigned. “For all I know your acquaintances are in their traveling coaches as we speak. Or have they already been secreted away in the attics?”

  “Nonetheless,” she prevaricated, charmingly wrinkling her freckled nose. “I have been made aware that you have recently posted invitations to a few of your own bosom friends who I believe are set to arrive in a fortnight.”

  “I should have known.” He rolled his eyes once again.

  She circled Parker like a hawk after a mouse. “Mrs. Hastings advised me of her shopping expedition to fill the larder for all of your big, strong and obviously hungry guests.”

  “Am I to have no privacy in my own home? Am I not allowed any secrets from my meddlesome siblings? And you. Especially you, m’dear. When the entire household is wrapped around your little finger groveling at your feet in enchanted anticipation of doing your bidding?” He wiggled his little finger in the air, ending his speech with a harumph sound.

  “Nonsense,” Poppy said with a serious look on her face.

  Parker blew out his pent up breath and conceded, “Fine, fine.” He crossed his arms lightly over his chest. Smiling secretly, after all he always gave in when it came to his siblings. Anyway, their creative groveling amused him immensely.

  Poppy bit back a grin but her eyes spoke of mischief.

  “I suppose,” he said with a slight shrug as if he had no choice, “a couple of your friends would not overly inconvenience me,” he drawled with an indulgent smile.

  “Of course you were only teasing.” Laughter lit her voice as she went around the desk and threw her arms around his broad shoulders. “You are the most darling, wonderful brother in all of England!”

  “Only England?” Parker leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t do it too brown or I might change my mind.”

  Poppy pulled and looked up at him. “I give you my word; you will hardly notice my dearest friends at all. Besides, you will either be closeted away in the Billiards room
or horseback riding or imbibing excessive amounts of brandy.” She laughed skipping lightly away as he swatted at her. “I knew you would not want my dearest friends to be disappointed.” She finished with a playful light sparkling in her eyes.

  Poppy called out as she dashed from Parker’s study, “Miss Harris, come quickly. I am unable to move forward with my plans without your much-needed assistance.”

  Poppy’s canine, Georgie, followed obediently behind.

  Miss Harris walked rapidly down the stairs. “Whatever is the matter, Poppy?”

  Miss Aurora Harris started as the twin’s governess and then continued as their Aunt Adele’s companion. Moreover, she was the perfect companion, lively, knowledgeable, and agreeable in most things.

  With all the ruckus in the hallway, Piper poked her head out of the library, pushing up her gold-rimmed spectacles as she inquired of her twin, “Whatever is the matter, Poppy? It sounds as if an entire regiment has bombarded Rosebriar.”

  Piper was more bookish. In fact, she was currently working on plans to start her own women’s literary club in London for the next season, very enterprising to be sure. She believed that young women desired intellectual pursuits and not just the endless rounds of frivolous entertainments. Women should be able to expand their minds as well as their social graces.

  Poppy reached down and scooped Georgie into her arms feathering kisses on the top of his head.

  “Oh, make haste,” Poppy cried ushering Miss Harris unceremoniously into the sitting room. “I believe we should partake of tea and cakes while we make plans, don’t you?”

  “Of course, dear,” Miss Harris complied. She sat primly; hands folded in her lap and waited. “What has you in such a tizzy?”

  Poppy stopped in the center of the Rose Room and announced, “Auntie, Miss Harris, we are going to have a house party.”