by Lucy Ashford
Deb’s heart stopped. He recognised Francis. Of course he did...
‘We’ll have to go about finding a new theatre for your friends soon,’ Beau was saying steadily. ‘They deserve it. They were good. And you were breathtaking.’ He took her face in his hands and turned it up to his. ‘I don’t want to be apart from you again, Deborah O’Hara. Ever. Do you understand me? Not ever.’
* * *
Beau ordered supper to be brought up to his rooms—cold chicken and bread and wine—and Deb suddenly realised that she’d not eaten all day. Beau ate very little, but watched her and filled her glass, and when she was replete he drew her on to his bed; not so they could make love, but just so he could talk to her, while holding her in his arms. To make sure this time that she could not escape.
‘I don’t want to be parted from you again,’ he told her. ‘When Laura confessed to me last night about her meeting with Jack Bentall, and I realised what it must have cost you to tell her what you did, I could have torn Bentall into pieces—especially when I found you’d gone. By then, of course, I was starting to realise the whole story. How brave you’d been. How self-sacrificing.’ He took her hand to kiss it. ‘As for me, I’ve done nothing in my dealings with you of which I can be particularly proud. In fact, a great deal of the time my conduct has been despicable.’
‘No. Never,’ she breathed. ‘I’ve misled you, remember!’ She blushed, remembering the forest, and the books.
‘Well—a little,’ he admitted, touching her cheek tenderly. ‘But only, I’d guess, because I was so impossibly overbearing and arrogant. I just want you to know—that I love you, Deborah O’Hara. And I cannot imagine my life without you.’
‘But you’re a Duke. I’m—nothing.’
‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’ve thought it all out. You, as Paulette, will retreat to the countryside again, for good—and we know already that the real Paulette will never return.’ He took her hand again. ‘So you can continue to be who you’ve always been—Deb O’Hara, a wonderful actress. And I shall court you, ardently. After all, it’s only a few years since the Earl of Derby swept Elizabeth Farren from the stage of the Haymarket Theatre and made her his wife. Why shouldn’t I marry Miss O’Hara?’
‘But...’
He put his finger to his lips to silence her. ‘You’re going to mention your illegitimacy. But do you think I care? That’s one advantage of wealth—I don’t need to take any heed whatsoever of the gossip and whispering that might arise. Yes, some tongues will wag for a Season or two, but we’re going to ride this out together. The men of the ton, at least, will adore you. You will be a sensation.’
She was silent. He watched the emotions playing across her beautiful, expressive face, and he began to feel cold fingers of fear at his heart. To lose her. To lose her, now...
She was gazing up at him. ‘But, Beau, have you thought about this? Really thought about it? Surely, you could marry anyone in the world.’
‘But I don’t want to marry anyone in the world,’ he pointed out. ‘I want to marry you. I love you, very much. And if you can find it in you to love me back...’
‘Oh, Beau,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Beau.’
He watched her, hardly daring to hope. ‘Does this mean that...?’
She flung herself into his arms and kissed him, revelling in the roughness of his jaw against her sensitive skin. ‘Darling, foolish man. Don’t you realise that I fell in love with you the very first moment I saw you?’
He was laughing now, a beautiful, husky chuckle that melted her soul. ‘Even though I was tied up? Muddy? Furious with you?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, putting her finger to his cheek thoughtfully. ‘I saw your...potential, you see. Though I was a little taken aback to discover you were the Duke of Cirencester.’
‘But do you think you can tolerate being my Duchess?’
She gazed at him, this man she loved, thinking of his strength and his tenderness, and the way he made love to her... Oh, the way he made love to her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and softly said, ‘I think, darling Beau, that I can indeed tolerate being by your side and loving you night after night for the rest of my life. Is that the right answer?’
‘It’s exactly the right answer,’ Beau breathed. ‘Wait. I have something for you.’
Deb watched in wonder as he went to a chest of drawers and took out—a blue-velvet jewel box. The Brandon jewels. Easing himself back beside her on the bed, he drew them out, and the diamonds and rubies blazed like fire in his strong hands.
‘Once,’ he said steadily, ‘you rebuked me for going to such trouble to get these back—only to lock them away again. Never to be seen, you said. Well, now they are most definitely going to be seen.’
Very carefully, very tenderly, he fastened the heavy, priceless necklace around the slender column of her throat. ‘You’re going to wear them, my darling. For me.’
She touched the jewels with fingers that trembled slightly. ‘Beau. I cannot. They’re so very valuable...’
‘You think so?’ he responded. ‘They’re nothing to me, compared to you. All my wealth is nothing, compared to you.’
She flung her arms around his neck, pressing her face to his chest as she strove to control her emotion. ‘Oh, Beau. I misjudged you, so much...’
That made his eyes glint wickedly. ‘I thought you said that you fell in love with me straight away?’
She drew back from him a little and pouted. ‘Well, I did, of course! How could I help it? But then everything went so wrong, and...’
‘And now,’ said Beau huskily, ‘everything is going to be perfect. Especially as you are, I hope, about to kiss me.’
He wrapped his arms around her and she lifted her mouth to his with a blissful sigh.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from RESCUED BY THE VISCOUNT by Anne Herries.
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Historical.
You dream of wicked rakes, gorgeous Highlanders, muscled Viking warriors and rugged Wild West cowboys from another era. Harlequin Historical has them all! Emotionally intense stories set across many time periods.
Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Historical every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Prologue
‘No, Mama,’ Charlotte Stevens cried in dismay. ‘Please do not expect such a thing of me—to marry without love for the sake of a fortune...’ She stared at her mother, tears welling, but too proud to let them fall. Charlotte was a pretty girl, diminutive, being no more than five feet and three inches, but her large expressive eyes and her unquenchable spirit made up for her lack of height. ‘How could you ask it of me?’
‘Because there is little choice left to me,’ Lady Stevens said. ‘Your father is close to ruin and if you do not oblige us by making a splendid marriage, we shall lose everything.’
‘Yes, I see...’ Charlotte banished her desire to scream and shout, because she loved Papa dearly and could not bear to think he was in so much trouble. ‘Who have you selected for me to marry?’ She lifted her head, determined to be brave and face whatever terrible fate awaited her.
‘It is not that desperate just yet,’ Mama told her with a determined smile. ‘Fortunately, I have some money put by for you to have a Season in town. You are very lovely, Charlotte. I am convinced that more than one gentleman will be prompted to offer for you—and you may choose for yourself, provided that your choice is in a position to assist your family.’
‘Yes, I see,’ Charlotte said, her s
pirits lifting a little. At least she was to be given a little freedom before she was thrown to the lions! ‘Well, Mama, I see that there is no choice and I promise that I shall do my best to oblige you.’
‘If only your aunt had not sold her best jewels and replaced them with fakes,’ Mama said wistfully. ‘Your uncle was so kind as to leave them to you, but I’m sure he had no idea that the best diamonds and the rubies, to say nothing of the emeralds and sapphires...all fakes, and only a few paltry trinkets left that are worth little more than a few pounds...’
‘I would gladly sell them if they would help Papa.’
‘Unfortunately, his debts run to at least twenty thousand pounds,’ Mama said, a note of distress in her voice. ‘Even if you sold everything, you could raise no more than a thousand or so. I see nothing else for it, my love—you must marry a fortune.’
Charlotte turned away to look out of the parlour window at the gardens behind her father’s house. Mama loved her home and it would break her heart to be forced to leave it—and Matt would have little chance of marrying well if they were ruined. Her love for her father, brother and Mama was too strong for Charlotte to think of rebelling. She knew that she must do her duty. All she could hope was that she would find a rich man who was not too fat or too old, whom she could respect, even if she could not love him.
Sighing, she turned to Mama with a smile. ‘I shall do my best to oblige you and Papa, but I cannot promise that anyone will fall in love with me enough to ask for my hand.’
‘Some gentlemen do not look for love in marriage,’ Mama said. ‘They wish for a comfortable arrangement with a girl of good family that will provide children—and, once the heir is secure, they take their pleasures elsewhere. After you have given your husband at least one son, but preferably two—it is always wise to have a spare, you know—he will no doubt leave you to do much as you please.’
‘Do all men behave in that manner, Mama?’ Charlotte asked innocently. ‘Are they never faithful? I thought perhaps if one loved one’s husband...’
‘Perhaps there are some that remain faithful,’ Mama allowed. ‘Indeed, I hope that you will find such a man—but you must not look for it, Charlotte. The most you can expect is a comfortable home and a life spent enjoying your children and entertaining your friends.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Charlotte turned back to gazing out of the window. It seemed that all her dreams of love and romance were a girl’s foolishness and nothing more.
‘Well, I can only hope you will be sensible,’ Mama said. ‘I have been honest with you, Charlotte. Papa has taken a house in Berkeley Square. It is very expensive, even for just a few weeks, my love, so you must make the most of your chances—because if you fail...’ A little shudder ran through Lady Stevens. ‘Well, we shall not consider that eventuality. I have always thought you a remarkable girl and I am certain you will not let us down.’
Charlotte crossed her fingers behind her back. She could only hope that her mother’s faith in her was not misplaced. Somehow she must forget her dreams of the tall dark stranger, who would sweep her off her feet and fall desperately in love with her, and make up her mind to accept someone with whom she might make a comfortable life.
Copyright © 2014 by Anne Herries
ISBN-13: 9781460342046
The Rake’s Bargain
Copyright © 2014 by Lucy Ashford
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com