The Bachelor

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by Jeffries, Sabrina




  Copyright © 2020 Sabrina Jeffries, LLC

  Cover image © Jon Paul

  Author photograph © Jessi Blakely for Tamara Lackey photography

  The right of Sabrina Jeffries to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Published by arrangement with Zebra Books, an imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First published in this Ebook edition in 2020

  by HEADLINE ETERNAL

  An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  eISBN 978 1 4722 6630 9

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  An Hachette UK Company

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.headlineeternal.com

  www.headline.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Praise for Sabrina Jeffries

  Also by Sabrina Jeffries

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Watch out for Who Wants to Marry a Duke

  Be seduced by the Sinful Suitors

  Meet the Hellions of Halstead Hall

  Find out more about Headline Eternal

  About the Author

  Sabrina Jeffries is the New York Times bestselling author of more than 50 novels and works of short fiction (some written under the pseudonyms Deborah Martin and Deborah Nicholas). Whatever time not spent speaking to organizations around the country or writing in a coffee-fueled haze is spent traveling with her husband and adult autistic son or indulging in one of her passions – jigsaw puzzles, chocolate, and music.

  With over 9 million books in print in more than 20 languages, the North Carolina author never regrets tossing aside a budding career in academics (she has a Ph.D. in English literature) for the sheer joy of writing fun fiction, and hopes that one day a book of hers will end up saving the world. She always dreams big.

  For more information, visit her at www.sabrinajeffries.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SabrinaJeffriesAuthor or on Twitter @SabrinaJeffries.

  Praise for Sabrina Jeffries, queen of the sexy regency romance:

  ‘Quick pacing, witty dialogue, and charmingly original characters set Jeffries’ books apart’ Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  ‘Master storyteller Jeffries is at the top of her game’ RT Book Reviews

  ‘Quick wit, lively repartee, and delicious sensuality drive the elaborate plot of this sinfully delightful addition to Jeffries’s latest series’ Library Journal (starred review)

  ‘Witty banter, well defined characters, and a wonderful surfeit of breathtaking sensuality’ Booklist

  ‘Lovely, poignant, and powerful’ Kirkus Reviews

  By Sabrina Jeffries

  Duke Dynasty Series

  Project Duchess

  The Bachelor

  Sinful Suitors Series

  The Art Of Sinning

  The Study Of Seduction

  The Danger Of Desire

  The Pleasures Of Passion

  A Talent For Temptation (e-novella)

  The Secret Of Flirting

  The Risk Of Rogues (e-novella)

  Hellions Of Halstead Hall Series

  The Truth About Lord Stoneville

  A Hellion In Her Bed

  How To Woo A Reluctant Lady

  To Wed A Wild Lord

  A Lady Never Surrenders

  About the Book

  Lady Gwyn Drake has long protected her family’s reputation by hiding an imprudent affair from her youth. But when her former suitor appears at Armitage Hall, manhandling the heiress and threatening to go public with her secrets, it’s Gwyn who needs protecting. Her twin brother, Thorn, hires Joshua Wolfe, the estate’s gamekeeper, to keep her safe in London during her debut. As a war hero, Joshua feels obligated to fulfill the assignment he has accepted. But as a man, it’s torment to be so very close to the beauty he’s fought to ignore . . .

  With handsome Joshua monitoring her every move, Gwyn would prefer to forget both the past and the parade of money-seeking bachelors at her coming out. But Joshua is unmoved by her attempts at flirtation, and the threat of blackmail still hangs over her. With danger closing in, Gwyn must decide which is the greater risk: deflecting a scoundrel’s attempts to sabotage her – or revealing her whole heart to the rugged bodyguard she can’t resist . . .

  To Starbucks,

  without which this story

  might never have been told

  London Society Times

  THE DUCHESS OF ARMITAGE’S TWINS

  TAKE LONDON BY STORM

  Once again, dear readers, I have uncovered a delicious bit of gossip for your enjoyment. One would expect the Duchess of Armitage to wait the requisite year before having her daughter, Lady Gwyn Drake’s debut, but the widowed duchess is showing, yet again, a shocking lack of regard for the rules of polite society. Her daughter is being presented at court this very Season. Tongues will surely wag, and the young lady will no doubt give them plenty to wag about, because one can’t help but expect Lady Gwyn to prove a delightful diversion. At least her mama is wise enough to follow some of the rules of propriety for a widow of only six months, for I am told that she will not attend social occasions with her daughter. Instead, Lady Gwyn is being sponsored at court by the duchess’s intimate friend, Lady Hornsby, by most accounts a woman of stellar virtue.

  No doubt Lady Gwyn’s advanced age of thirty is the cause for her mother’s haste in running her through the marriage marts like a prize Thoroughbred at the Derby, although gossip has it that the heiress is infinitely more attractive. Yours truly has also heard she is as spirited as her twin brother, the Duke of Thornstock. So, few gentlemen are likely to balk at her age when such bounty is their reward.

  To add to the excitement, Lady Gwyn’s half brother, the Duke of Greycourt, will also be presenting his new wife at court during the Season. Everyone has wondered about what sort of woman would choose to marry such a haughty man. We also eagerly anticipate the appearance of Lady Gwyn’s rakish twin brother. London’s ballrooms will simply be teeming with members of the duchess’s family, including two eligible dukes, if one counts the newest Duke of Armitage, Sheridan Wolfe. Young ladies will be positively frantic to snag one of them. It should be a very interesting Season.


  Chapter One

  April 1809

  Armitage Hall, Lincolnshire

  Lady Gwyn Drake paced the ornamental bridge like a tigress in a crate. What did it mean when one’s blackmailer was late? It certainly didn’t bode well for the negotiations she hoped to initiate.

  Perhaps she was at the wrong spot.

  She drew the man’s note out of her pocket and read it again:

  To Lady Gwyn,

  Tomorrow at 4 p.m., bring fifty guineas to me on the Armitage estate near the bridge that crosses the river if you wish to guarantee my silence. Otherwise, I will feel free to tell such secrets about you and me as will ruin your good name. You know that I can.

  Captain L. Malet

  Not the wrong spot, then. This was the only bridge over a river on the estate. Did he realize that the house occupied by the estate’s handsome gamekeeper, Major Joshua Wolfe, was a short distance away? Or did he just not care?

  She scowled. When she’d last seen “L.” Malet, ten years before, he’d been only an ensign in the army and she’d been only twenty. But if he was expecting to meet that same wide-eyed, foolish girl, he was in for a surprise.

  Balling up the note, she tossed it into the river. Then she slid her hand into her muff to touch the pocket pistol she’d lifted from the closet of her twin brother, Thorn, otherwise known as the Duke of Thornstock. Though the pistol wasn’t loaded—she had no clue how to fire a gun, much less load one—the feel of the carved ivory stock beneath her fingers was reassuring. It should look impressive enough to hold off a coward like Lionel Malet.

  She heard the crunch of wheels on gravel just in time to see him descend from a phaeton. He probably owed money on it, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him sauntering down the hill to the bridge without a care in the world.

  Hard to believe she’d risked everything years ago for a pair of blue eyes, a smug smile, and a head of raven curls. Even in a mere ensign’s uniform, Lionel had looked incredibly appealing to a woman surrounded by her stepfather’s aging friends—or her teasing brother and half brothers.

  Today, dressed even more impressively in gentleman’s attire, he lacked the power to move her. How could she not have seen the truth back then, that he was debonair and slick, the kind of man who slithered his way into a naïve woman’s life, then poisoned her and her future with one bite? If she’d just recognized . . .

  It didn’t matter. She recognized his true character now. So as he approached, looking utterly sure of himself, she drew out Thorn’s pistol and aimed it at him. “That’s close enough, sir.”

  He laughed at her, blast him. “You mean to shoot me, do you?”

  “If I have to.”

  “But you don’t.” He cocked his head rakishly. “You merely need to pay my price. Fifty guineas is a reasonable amount for my silence, wouldn’t you say?”

  Her hands shook. She hoped he couldn’t see that. “I’m surprised you ask so little, considering what you’d get if you married me.”

  “Are you still interested in that?” When she merely glared at him, he shrugged. “I didn’t think so. What a pity. A marriage would suit both of us.”

  “I’m sure it would help your finances, but in what possible way could it benefit me?” she asked coldly.

  He let his insolent gaze trail down her. “You’re by no means as youthful as you were at twenty. It won’t be long before you’re considered an out-and-out spinster, and then no one will marry you.”

  “Good. That suits me perfectly.” Oddly enough, it was the truth. “I’m afraid you have soured me on men, sir.” That, too, was the truth. Or part of it anyway. “Nor am I some green girl to fall for your machinations again.”

  “So why do you need the pistol?”

  “My brother has been fearful that you might try to abduct me, as you tried to do with Kitty Nickman at Christmastide on this very estate.”

  Mention of his failed plan seemed to spark his temper. “I considered it. But I know Thornstock. If I kidnapped you, he would cut you off, and then we’d both be poor. Indeed, he threatened as much years ago.”

  The memory of that betrayal settled into her chest like a bad cold. That it still had the power to wound infuriated her. “He was trying to protect me, as any good brother would.” Still, it rankled that her twin had read Lionel’s character so well when she’d been oblivious to it. “And judging from your attempt to blackmail me, he was wise to do so.”

  “This is not an attempt.” He took a step forward. “I mean to get my money.”

  She steadied the pistol on him. “I don’t have it.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I suppose I’ll be telling the world about us, starting with your brother.”

  A sick fear gripped her at the thought of Thorn—or anyone at all—hearing the truth. “I promise I’ll get you your funds once the family goes to London for the Season. That’s only a few days away. Surely you can wait that long.”

  “Ah, but why should I?”

  “Because if I ask Thorn for fifty guineas in the City, he’ll think nothing of it, given the ease with which I could spend that on jewelry or clothes. But here in the country, where that would take some doing, he’ll find the request suspicious and demand to know why I really want it. There’s no plausible lie I can give him. And if I answer him truthfully, he might just murder you.”

  Lionel chuckled. “You mean you haven’t told your arse of a brother what we did?”

  “Of course not. And I know you didn’t tell him either. Because you wouldn’t be here trying to blackmail me if you had. Thorn would have killed you years ago.”

  “True.” The amusement faded from his cruelly handsome face, leaving only the cold glitter in his eyes. Now that was the Lionel Malet she knew and hated. “Fortunately,” he went on, “I am better prepared to fight your brother these days. Not for nothing have I trained as a soldier. And Thornstock has undoubtedly grown soft with age.”

  “If you believe that, you haven’t had many dealings with him recently.”

  “In any case,” he said, brushing off her comment, “I have no intention of waiting for my money. If you can’t pay me today, I’ll just have to take something else by way of payment.”

  He stalked across the bridge toward her, and though she backed up swiftly, he was on her before she could get very far. Only when he snatched the gun from her did she realize it wasn’t her he was after.

  “You can’t have that!” she cried, her heart sinking. “That’s Thorn’s! It’s not mine to give!” It was part of a pair, Thorn’s most recent purchase, and he was inordinately fond of it. Her brother would never forgive her if she let it be taken.

  “I don’t care.” Lionel examined the pistol, then snorted as he realized it wasn’t loaded. “This will fetch a pretty penny in London while I wait for the rest of my money.” He shoved the gun in his greatcoat pocket. “Oh, and the price for my silence has just gone up. It’s a hundred guineas now.”

  When he turned to walk away, she grabbed his arm, trying to prevent him from escaping with Thorn’s gun. “I’ll get you your dratted money, but you can’t have the pistol!”

  She’d managed to wrestle it halfway out of his pocket before he gripped her upper arms and shook her. “I will have whatever I want of you, make no mistake. So if you wish me to keep your secrets—”

  A shot sounded over their heads. Startled, she and Lionel both looked toward where it had come from, up on the rise behind her where the dower house sat.

  Its tenant, Major Wolfe, did something to the barrel of his own gun, then aimed it at Lionel’s heart. Honestly, she’d never been happier to see the gruff former soldier in all her life.

  “Step away from her ladyship,” Major Wolfe called out as he made his way down to the bridge, somehow keeping his weapon trained on Lionel while maneuvering the uneven surfaces of the riverbank path with his cane.

  Lionel sneered at him. “Or what? A mere gamekeeper wouldn’t dare to shoot a viscount’s son.”

 
Gwyn frowned. “How did you know he’s a game—Oh. Right.” She’d forgotten that Major Wolfe had helped thwart Lionel during that abduction at Christmas. Not that it mattered. “The major is a duke’s grandson and a crack shot besides. Not only would he dare to shoot you, he wouldn’t miss.”

  Major Wolfe’s gaze flicked to her. He seemed surprised by the remark, though she couldn’t imagine why. She’d flirted often enough to make it clear what she thought of him. Then again, she’d ended that after getting more than one surly response. No man was going to make a fool of her. She had let Lionel do that, and it had ended disastrously.

  The major steadied his aim on Lionel. “You’re standing on my land, trying to assault a member of the family I work for. So you’d best release the lady, or I swear I’ll make you regret it. Not a magistrate in the county would blame me for shooting an armed man on my own property.”

  Lionel started. “I’m not armed.” When Major Wolfe nodded to Lionel’s coat pocket, where the ivory handle of Thorn’s pistol still hung out, Lionel paled. “The gun isn’t loaded,” he said, though he had the good sense to release her.

  “Not to mention that it doesn’t belong to you.” She met Major Wolfe’s gaze. “It’s Thorn’s. Captain Malet took it from me.”

  Major Wolfe arched one dark brow at her. “And what were you proposing to do with an unloaded pistol?”

  “Never mind that. I’m merely saying I want it back.”

  “Ah.” Major Wolfe gestured to Lionel with his firearm. “You heard the lady. Give it to her.”

  Lionel’s eyes narrowed, and Gwyn’s heart nearly failed her. What if he chose to reveal her secret to Major Wolfe? It would be just the sort of thing he’d do to revenge himself on her. And she would die of mortification, which was saying something, because there was little that mortified her these days.

  She edged closer to Lionel. “Hand it over.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I promise you’ll have your money once I reach London. But not if you say one word to him about our past together.”

 

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