Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 1 of 2
Page 49
Without conscious thought she had parted her legs to cradle him where he fitted, where he belonged, against the core of her, his long, hard body pressed to her softness, his heart beating against hers.
‘Yes, Alex.’ Tess arched against him and he entered her in one long thrust, then stopped, his forehead resting against hers.
‘I’m home,’ he murmured, his breath warm on her lips.
‘So am I. At last. With you.’ She kissed him, pulled down his head and clung to his lips as he moved within her, with her, pulling her into the whirlpool, the whirlwind. The storm crashed around them, tossed her into wave after wave of sensation and then drew her up into one perfect moment. ‘Alex.’
A minute, an hour, a year later she opened her eyes and found him watching her with his soul in his eyes. Her vision blurred. ‘Welcome home, my love.’
He smiled and laid his head on her breast, and Tess felt his lips move against her skin. ‘That is wherever you are, my love. Always.’
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460387719
Housekeeper’s Christmas Wish
Copyright © 2015 by Melanie Hilton
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.
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“This will be a battle of wits, madam.”
Alex Arrandale, Earl of Davenport, is used to getting what he wants. So when he visits Diana Grensham, governess and joint guardian to his wards, and asks her to vacate his property, he is stunned when she refuses!
Diana is determined not to bow to Alex’s demands. Her whole life, she has believed she is unlovable and worthless, but now, as she and Alex engage in a battle of wills, Diana’s confidence blooms. And soon, she finds herself tempted to make a few demands of her own!
The Infamous Arrandales
Scandal is their destiny!
Meet the Arrandale family—dissolute, disreputable and defiant! This infamous family has scandal in their blood, and wherever they go their reputation will always precede them!
Don’t miss any of the fabulous books in Sarah Mallory’s dazzling new quartet!
The Chaperon’s Seduction
Already available
Temptation of a Governess
Available now
and look for two more sinfully scandalous stories, coming soon!
Author Note
When I was very young I loved fairy tales, especially the story of the ugly duckling, the little creature who did not fit in. This is how I saw Diana Grensham, a young lady who has been told from a very early age that she is unattractive. She has therefore hidden herself away from the world, living as a governess because, as she says, governesses are of no consequence.
When we meet Alex he is a privileged young man with looks, health and fortune, a sportsman with an eye for beauty. The world is at his feet and no one has ever opposed his will, until he meets Diana. Despite their differences, Alex is the one man who sees past Diana’s self-effacing shell to the spirited beautiful woman inside. He gives her the confidence to believe in herself.
Alex changes, too. He learns that the hedonistic world he inhabits is not the one he wants to live in. He discovers that happiness lies with Diana, but after all he has done to alienate her, how can she trust him? The ballroom scene at the end of Temptation of a Governess is one of the most touching I have ever written: so much hangs in the balance, and it is important that both Diana and Alex get it right. That is for you, the reader, to judge.
Sarah Mallory
Temptation of
a Governess
Sarah Mallory was born in the West Country but now lives on the beautiful Yorkshire moors. She has been writing for more than three decades, mainly historicals set in the Georgian and Regency period. She has won several awards for her writing, most recently the Romantic Novelists’ Association RoNA Rose Award in 2012 (The Dangerous Lord Darrington) and 2013 (Beneath the Major’s Scars).
Books by Sarah Mallory
Harlequin Historical
and Harlequin Historical Undone! ebook
The Infamous Arrandales
The Chaperon’s Seduction
Temptation of a Governess
Brides of Waterloo
A Lady for Lord Randall
The Notorious Coale Brothers
Beneath the Major’s Scars
Behind the Rake’s Wicked Wager
The Tantalizing Miss Coale (Undone!)
Linked by Character
Lady Beneath the Veil
At the Highwayman’s Pleasure
Stand-Alone Novels
The Earl’s Runaway Bride
To Catch a Husband...
Bought for Revenge
The Scarlet Gown
Never Trust a Rebel
Castonbury Park Regency miniseries
The Illegitimate Montague
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Kathryn, my lovely editor
and all the team at Richmond,
without whom these books would never happen.
Contents
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 One
The April sun shone down brightly on the low-slung racing curricle as it bowled through the lanes and Alex Arrandale felt the winter gloom lifting from his spirits. A gloom that had settled and remained with him since he had heard of the shipwreck that had taken the life of his brother James and made him, Alex, the eighth Earl of Davenport. He had neither expected nor wanted the succession. James was only two years his senior and, at thirty, everyo
ne had thought there was plenty of time for him and his countess to produce an heir. That was why the couple had set out on their sea journey, sailing south to warmer climes that the doctors advised might help improve Margaret’s health and allow her to conceive and carry a boy child full-term. The couple already had a healthy little girl, but a series of miscarriages had left the countess very worn down.
They had never reached the Mediterranean, a storm off Gibraltar in October had run their ship aground and all lives had been lost. The news had reached Alex several weeks later and the depth of his grief had been profound. Even now, six months on, he still wore a black cravat as a sign of his loss. In all other aspects of his life his friends found him unchanged. He had spent the winter as he always did, at a succession of house parties where hunting, gambling and flirting were the order of the day. Only his closest friend saw anything amiss in his frantic pleasure-seeking.
‘Everyone thinks it is because you do not care,’ Mr Gervase Wollerton told him, in a moment of uncharacteristic perception. ‘I think you care too much.’
Perhaps that was so, thought Alex as he slowed and turned his high-bred team of match greys through the gates leading to Chantreys, but he had been earl for a while now and it was time he made a few changes.
The drive curved between trees that were not yet in full leaf and sunlight dappled the track. Alex slowed, conscious that there might be holes and ruts after the winter. He was just emerging from the woods when he spotted a figure sitting on a fallen tree, not far from the side of the road. It was a young woman with a sketchbook. She had cast aside her bonnet and her red hair glinted with gold in the sunlight. He knew her immediately. He had not seen her for years but the red hair was unmistakable. It was Diana Grensham, sister of the drowned countess and governess to her only child and the other Arrandale waif who had been taken into the late earl’s household. She was so engrossed in her work that she did not even notice his arrival. Alex drew his team to a halt and regarded her for a long moment, taking in the dainty figure clad in a serviceable gown of green and yellow and with her wild red hair gleaming about her head like a halo.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Grensham.’
She looked up, regarding him with a clear, steady gaze. Her eyes, he noted, were unusual, nut brown but flecked with green and while she was no beauty her countenance was lively and her full mouth had an upward tilt, as if a smile was never far away.
‘Afternoon?’ Her voice was soft, musical and held a hint of laughter. ‘Heavens, is it so late already?’
‘You are not surprised to see me?’
She closed her sketchbook and rose to her feet.
‘I knew you would come at some point, my lord,’ she told him. ‘It would have been better if you had given us notice, but I am sure Mrs Wallace will be able to find some refreshment suitable for you. If you would care to drive round to the stables I will go and tell her.’
She took a few halting, uneven steps and he called out to her.
‘Let me take you to the house. Stark, get down and hand the lady into the curricle.’
She stopped and turned, saying with a challenge in her voice, ‘Because I am a cripple?’
‘No,’ he replied mildly. ‘Because I want to talk to you.’
She handed her sketch book and pencils to the groom and climbed easily into the seat unaided, affording Alex a glimpse of embroidered white stockings beneath her skirts. He could not recall ever being told why she limped, but there was clearly no deformity in those shapely ankles, or in the dainty feet encased in the neat but serviceable boots.
When she would have taken her sketching things back Alex stopped her.
‘Stark can carry them to the house. It is a fine day, let us drive around the park before we go in. I want to talk to you about the children.’ Without waiting for her assent he set the greys in motion. ‘I hope you do not mind?’
‘Do I have any choice?’
‘I thought it might be easier to talk out here than in the house.’
‘You are probably right,’ she told him. ‘You are a favourite with the girls and they will want you to themselves as soon as they know you are arrived.’ She added thoughtfully, ‘Although Meggie might demand to know why you have not been to see them before this.’
‘I have been very busy.’
‘Too busy to comfort your niece?’ When he did not reply she continued. ‘She and Florence were left to our joint care, my lord.’
‘You do not need to remind me.’ He flicked his whip over the greys’ heads. What could he say? He knew it was contemptible, but looking back and considering his brother’s death, he knew that he had been unable to face anyone’s grief save his own. He was a renowned sportsman, a hard rider, deadly with sword and pistol and a pugilist of no mean order, yet he had shied away from visiting James’s young daughter and witnessing her distress. He had told himself that her aunt was the best person to comfort little Meggie. Diana had been governess for four years to both James’s daughter and little Florence Arrandale, a cousin whose own mother had died in childbirth and whose father had left the country under suspicious circumstances. James had taken the child in as a companion for Meggie and the two girls had been brought up almost as sisters. It was assumed that Florence’s father was no longer alive and James had provided for her in his will, including consigning her to his brother’s care. At eight years old, both girls would be missing James and his wife, the only parents they had ever known. Alex featured in their lives as a favourite uncle, visiting occasionally to bring treats and play with them for an hour or two before returning to his own hedonistic life. He might be their guardian now, but what did he know about bringing up children, or comforting them? It was no defence and deep inside he knew it, but it was easy to push aside such tiny pinpricks to his conscience.
‘At least you corresponded with me,’ Diana went on. ‘I should be grateful you did not leave that to your man of business.’
‘James’s wife was your sister, your sorrow was equal to my own and I wanted to send my condolences.’
A black-bordered letter with a few trite sentences. How cold and hard that must have appeared to her.
Her hand came up, as if to ward off a blow. ‘Yes, thank you.’
It occurred to Alex that she shared his dislike of overt emotion, so he did not pursue the matter, merely asked after the girls.
‘They seem happy enough, but they miss their mama and papa. I know Florence is only a cousin, but her grief is equal to Meggie’s, I assure you.’
He said with real regret, ‘I am very sorry that I did not come to visit them sooner.’
‘Well, you are here now, and they will be very glad to see you. What is it you wanted to discuss with me?’
‘I was thinking that the girls might like to go to school.’
She paused, then said slowly, ‘You are aware that the girls’ education is my responsibility? Your brother was very clear about that.’
‘Of course, but that does not mean I cannot take an interest.’
‘No, indeed. But I do not think school would be right for them. Especially not at present, so soon after their loss.’
‘Very well, but they might prefer another house, where there are less painful memories.’
‘They are very happy here, my lord. It has always been their home.’
He felt the first stirrings of irritation. He would have to admit why he wanted them to move out.
‘But it is now my house, Miss Grensham, and I wish to use it.’
‘Well, there is nothing stopping you,’ she replied. ‘In fact, the girls would be delighted to see more of you.’
‘That is not the point. I wish to bring friends here, and it would not be...appropriate for there to be children in the house.’
‘What do you mean?’
He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Do I nee
d to spell it out to you? I am a bachelor.’
He kept his eyes on the road ahead but he was very aware of her enquiring scrutiny and found it disconcerting.
She said slowly, ‘Am I to understand that you and your guests might act in an, an unseemly way?’
‘It is a possibility.’ His mind ranged quickly over his friends. ‘More than a possibility.’
‘It is certainly to your credit that you wish to protect the children from such scenes,’ she told him, ‘but I think in that case it would be better for you to hold your parties elsewhere. The Davenport estates comprise several excellent properties.’
‘I am well aware of that,’ he ground out. ‘But I want Chantreys.’
He kept his eyes on the road but felt her clear, enquiring gaze upon his face.
‘And why is it so important to have this house?’
Because it is where he and James had spent most of their childhood. Where they had been happiest. Alex knew that if he said as much she would turn the argument against him and appeal to his better nature to allow the girls to stay. And he had long ago buried his better nature well out of reach. He set his jaw.
‘Miss Grensham, perhaps you are not aware of the pressures that are brought to bear on the head of any family to marry and provide an heir. Old family friends, relatives I have never even heard of all think they have the perfect right to interfere in my life.’ His lip curled. ‘It is assumed that I shall find a wife before the year is out. My intention is to show the world that I will not be coerced into marriage. I want to hold the biggest, most scandalous party of my career here at Chantreys. It is close enough to town for me to invite the ton to see just how disreputable an Arrandale I am and to put paid once and for all to their infernal matchmaking!’