Only a Viscount Will Do (To Marry a Rogue)

by Tamara Gill

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Discover more historical romance from Entangled… When a Lady Dares

  My Darling, My Disaster

  A Pirate’s Command

  Captured Heart

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Tamara Gill. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Select Historical is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Erin Molta

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

  Cover art from Period Images and 123rf.com

  ISBN 978-1-63375-966-4

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition May 2017

  For the two little bandits in my life, Samuel and Harry.

  Love you guys.

  Prologue

  Callum squinted, the light in the room blinding as the blindfold was ripped from his face. He blinked, growing accustomed to the brightness in the room.

  He didn’t recognize any of the men staring at him, but he could understand the menace that glistened in their eyes. Callum rolled his shoulders, the bands about his wrists leaving his hands almost numb.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  The man behind the desk, a rotund, balding gentleman, stared at him nonplussed. “I’m a moneylender. One who’s come to collect.”

  Two more burly men came into the room and stood behind the man at the desk. They crossed their arms over their chest and Callum understood the unspoken threat. “I don’t owe you any funds.”

  The man laughed. “Tsk tsk, a minor detail that you’ll soon be remedied of. You, Lord Arndel may not owe the money, but you have inherited the debt of your late cousin, along with his title.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the debt your cousin owed me is perhaps more than you can pay, and, therefore, just as your cousin was asked to do, you, too, shall have expectations toward us that will be met.”

  “I’ll do nothing you ask of me. I have no idea of this debt that you speak, and I fail to see why I should inherit it.”

  “All true,” the man said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet you do inherit the debt and you shall do as we say or your sweet, loving family shall be, how do I say this,” he said, tapping his chin, “hurt.”

  Callum swallowed, the need to hurt the bastard increasing tenfold. If only he wasn’t tied up, he’d pummel the man within an inch of his life. How dare he threaten his child? “You touch my daughter, even one hair on her head, and you will rue the day.”

  “You will rue the day if you think I am joking, my lord.” The moneylender took a sip of his amber liquid, placing the glass down as if he had not a care in the world, and hadn’t, in fact, just threatened a man and his family with who knows what horrendous consequences. “Before your cousin died, we had a contract written up, in case his demise was earlier than foreseen. Now that you’ve inherited the estate and title, we have forwarded the contract to your solicitor, and I’m sure in the coming days he will ask for an audience with you.”

  “How much is the debt?” With any luck it wouldn’t be as much as he feared, though his cousin Robert had lived a misbegotten lifestyle full of vice and debauchery, which apparently involved large wads of blunt.

  “The debt is in the vicinity of eighteen thousand pounds. More than I know you have.”

  Callum tried to take a calming breath and failed. The room shrank, and for the first time in his life he thought he might pass out. “Eighteen thousand pounds…no doubt you thought nothing of lending such sums to a man who you knew would never be able to afford such debt. How dare you act so criminally.”

  The moneylender laughed, his gut shaking in mirth. “Alas, my lord, if it hasn’t escaped your notice, I am a criminal and I will get my money back, and with your help.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a file with a multitude of papers within it. “Would you like to know the details of the services that will render me happy?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Callum asked, his words cutting, severing any hope he may have had of his and his family’s future.

  “In this folder is a listing and drawings of jewels that I want you to procure for me. Each piece is of high value, made of the finest quality jewels and will make me so rich that you may even see me gracing the ballrooms of the ton in the years to come.”

  Callum doubted that very much, nor did he want to think about what the moneylender’s words meant. He wracked his brain for a way to remove himself from the situation, to walk away without debt nor any links to the man before him, but his mind came up blank. There was no way out for him. He had no money of his own; he had the estate only and most of that was entailed and untouchable.

  “You, Lord Arndel, shall steal these jewels from these rich toffs, and deliver them each month until the debt is paid. And just to sweeten the deal, some of these jewels are worth up to a thousand pounds, so do not despair that I’ll be requiring your services forever.”

  “You want me to become a thief, stealing into these people’s homes, people who I shall see most nights at Town events and such? Damn you. I shall not do it.”

  The moneylender gestured to one of his guards, who then went and opened a door, mumbling to someone inside the dark space. Rage unlike any he’d known consumed him when they carried out his daughter, her body limp in the man’s arms.

  “What have you done to her?” he roared, standing and throwing the chair his hands were tied to against the wall. A satisfying crack sounded and he did it again, the chair giving way, enough so he could pull his hands free.

  As he went to his daughter, the second burly man tackled him to the ground, his weight and solid punch to his lower back winding him. “Tell me what you’ve done?” he wheezed, his gaze blurring with the horrible realization that they may have killed his little girl.

  “She’s alive, for now. Too much liquor in her tea, unfortunately. Knocked her out cold.” The man laughed and Callum promised he’d kill the bastard. Maybe not today with his daughter’s life still in the fiend and his cronies’ hands, but one day. One day, the man laughing down on him would pay for daring to take her from his home.

  “In one month’s time the first jewel is due. There will be no sneaking into their homes. You must wait for them to be attending a ball, or traveling to or from their estates after a jaunt. It is at these times you must strike, steal their valuables, and bring them to me.”

  “So I’m to be a highwayman?” The absurdness of the situation was too much for his brain to register. Just when his life had tak
en a positive turn, and now this. He fought to move, to get up. The moneylender gave one curt nod and the man took his knee off the middle of his back. Callum ran to Amelia and wrenched her from the second guard’s hands, hating the fact these bastards had been anywhere near her, had stolen her from right under his nose with nary a problem.

  “Fine,” Callum said, holding his daughter tight. “I shall do as you ask, but if you ever come near my child again I will kill you. Even if I hang before all the ton, do not doubt that I will allow you to live, should you hurt one hair on her head.”

  The moneylender threw him an unamused glance. “I will have no reason to hurt anyone should you do as I ask, within a timely manner.”

  “Give me the list.” The man held it up and Callum ripped it from his grasp, striding to the door. He stopped when one of the guards stood before it, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Let Lord Arndel pass. Our business today is complete.”

  Callum strode from the room, his steps faltering when a bevy of half-naked women stood along the walls, watching him, some of their eyes beckoning him to join them in the rooms behind them. How dare the bastard take his daughter into such an establishment. Amelia mumbled in her sleep and Callum frowned. What liquor had they given to her? What if they’d killed her by accident? If his cousin Robert wasn’t already dead, he’d kill the man himself for placing his daughter into such a predicament.

  Stepping free of the building, Callum made his way out of the circular square that had buildings in dire need of repair and headed toward where a busier road lay beyond. He would get Amelia home and then he would decide what was to be done and how he would face the next few months under the order of such a man as he’d just left.

  It wasn’t to be borne, and yet somehow it must. Callum couldn’t see a way out of the situation. He was beholden to him until he paid off a debt that wasn’t his.

  Damnation.

  Chapter One

  Surrey, two years later

  Alice met her mother’s startled eyes and then turned to look out the carriage window. No one graced the road between home and Ashford, the small village they’d traveled from. Tony, their driver, yelled and the carriage jerked forward at increasing speed. Alice reached for the leather strap and held on as best she could.

  “I cannot see anyone, Mama.” She sat back and clasped the squabs with her free hand. “And yet I can hear what sounds like a rider coming up hard behind us.”

  Her mother removed her handkerchief from her lips long enough to answer. “Who do you think—”

  “Halt the carriage!” a deep, muffled voice commanded, followed by a loud crack of a gun that sent shivers down Alice’s spine. Is Tony being shot at—their horses? Dear God, what is going on?

  Again, Alice looked out the carriage window then jumped over to the other seat and opened the portal to speak to Tony. “Are you all right to continue? We’re so close to home, I don’t want to stop.”

  Tony kept his eyes on the road but crouched lower on the box. “Right ye are, miss. I’ll not let him catch us.”

  Another shot rang out just as the words flew from Tony’s lips. Alice gasped and grabbed her mother’s hand, not liking her pale gray color.

  “Get down, dearest,” her mother tried to shout over the crunch of wheels on the gravel road.

  The carriage continued to barrel up the thoroughfare at a blistering speed. Alice sat on the floor and pulled her mama down with her, before turning to look under the seat for the pistol their father used to keep there. She sat back on her haunches as her search turned up nothing more than empty space and a cobweb.

  Tony cursed before yelling out that he couldn’t continue without putting their lives at risk. Sickening dread pooled in her stomach. Her mother threw her a frightened glance, her lips in a thin line of fear.

  “Even under such circumstances I don’t believe Tony should say such words, cursing is never acceptable.”

  Alice beat back the urge to roll her eyes. They had bigger things to worry about than a swear word. Had she been on the box and some idiot was shooting bullets at her, Alice was sure more than a few curse words would fly out of her mouth. “Tony is slowing down, Mama. If anything, that is what you should be worried about.”

  “Alice, come sit closer to me and don’t let go of my hand, under any circumstances.”

  Alice did as she was told and held on tight to her mother’s shaking fingers. “It’ll be all right, Mama. I’m sure he only means to rob us, and then he’ll be on his way.” At least that is what Alice hoped, but who knew with this highwayman. Anything was possible.

  Her mother nodded but clasped her hand in a punishing grip as the carriage rolled to a stop. Alice listened to the sounds outside and the carriage when Tony jumped down. He came to stand at their door, his head looking in either direction, no doubt trying to garner the fiend’s whereabouts.

  They waited like sitting ducks for the elusive fox to attack, but silence reigned.

  “Who do you think he is?” her mother asked.

  Alice frowned, wondering the same. “Perhaps he is the highwayman who has been terrorizing Surrey for the last year or so.” His escapades had London all a titter over the jewels he’d stolen, the wealth he’d amassed from the rich. Now it looked like they, too, would fill his coffers. She took a fortifying breath, not wanting to believe her own words. She had thought it such a lark that the gentleman stole from the rich and left the poor alone. But now, as one of the unfortunates to come under his ire, she didn’t think too highly of it, after all.

  “What do you want?” Tony shouted toward the trees.

  A shiver of unease crawled across her skin as the question was met with a deep masculine chuckle. A laugh that was both cocky and condescending at the same time.

  “Get the ladies out. Now!”

  Alice shushed her mother’s whimpering and nodded to Tony to open the door when he looked back for approval. He helped them down, then stood before them like a knight in shining armor. Alice inwardly smiled at the devotion her mother’s coachman had for the family, especially since he was older than England itself.

  She looked down the road, bordered by thick dense trees that cast moving shadows everywhere. Her mother’s eyes were huge and full of fear as a ghostly apparition of a dark horse and rider stepped from the dark canopy. The horse’s ragged and uneven breathing made it seem dangerous, and not of this world.

  Alice was sure at that very moment, they were going to die. Nothing that looked so evil could possibly do any good in this world.

  “Well, well, well. Look who we have.” The rider jerked his mount to a stop, the horse’s eyes flaring at the sharp pull of the bit.

  “That is none of your concern. Take what you want and be gone with ya,” Tony said, throwing them a concerned look over his shoulder.

  Alice’s eyes narrowed at the tsk, tsk, tsk that sounded from the highwayman. She looked at the horse and wondered how a robber could own such a beast. Or perhaps, stolen would be a better summation. She studied the man, his breeches tight to his well-formed legs. His jacket and shirt, though not the best in quality, were clean and pressed. As for his face, she could not make it out at all, due to the black bandanna covering his nose and mouth. But his eyes, dark as night, were intelligent, calculating, and right at this moment, making a study of them. Thoroughly.

  The highwayman bowed low on his horse. “I do believe the Duchess of Penworth is to be my quarry this day. And that lovely brooch you have upon your person will do nicely as my payment. Hand it over and no harm will come to you.”

  Alice comforted her mother as she gasped, in vain trying to hide the brooch that made the robber’s eyes gleam with sickening greed.

  “Who gives you the right to take what doesn’t belong to you, sir?” Alice raised her chin in defiance. The thought of her mama losing such a treasured family jewel made the blood boil in her veins.

  She stilled as the man’s attention swung her way, the lift of his eyebrows declaring he had not
noticed her, or had been ignoring her. Alice pushed down the sickening nerves that racked her innards when he proceeded to dismount, then walk toward them with a swagger that oozed confidence.

  Alice lifted her chin further and refused to look away, even though her mind froze in fear. He was tall, strong, and could break them both in half, if he wished, if the size of his arms were any indication. Oh, dear, please don’t hurt us. I’m sorry I spoke. She swallowed as he came to stand before her, much too close for her comfort.

  “You are a beauty, my little blond goddess. Perhaps I should steal you, instead of the man-made ornaments.” He reached out and flicked her mother’s brooch, dismissing it as nothing of value.

  Alice gaped and then snapped her mouth shut at the man’s impudent gesture. Surely, he had not said what he had? But at the gleam in his eyes, Alice realized he was deadly serious.

  “You sir, will leave my daughter alone.” Her mother moved in front of her, which pulled Alice from the trance she seemed to have fallen into while looking at him.

  He smiled then walked over to Tony, and as quick as a flash, pushed the man to the ground, tying his hands with a well-versed ability that under different circumstances would’ve been impressive. Dismayed, Alice watched their only means of protection wiggle on the ground, no longer any help. The rogue turned back to them, his eyes darting back and forth.

  “This is not the time to throw orders around, Your Grace.” He came over to them and unclasped the emerald brooch. Alice clasped her mother’s hand as her parent’s eyes filled with tears. She looked back at the robber, his eyes not sparing the jewel a second glance as he slipped it into his pocket.

  “Your Grace, if you will return to the carriage, I’d be most appreciative. I have something to say to your daughter…in private.”

  “You have nothing to say to me, sir. You’ve got your payment, now it’s time for you to leave us alone.” Alice held on to her mother, not wanting to hear anything this brute had to say. Fear crept up her spine that he would molest her in some way. Perhaps he wasn’t the highwayman Surrey was being harassed by, for she’d never heard of him attacking women while he robbed them of their worldly possessions.