The Jacobite's Return (The Georgian Rebel Series)

by Jane Godman

  “Very well. I told you I would only make promises I could keep from now on. This one is easy. I promise to love you forever, Rosie. Will you marry me so I can prove it to you?”

  When Rosie tried to answer, her voice came out as a strangled sob. Instead, she nodded her acceptance. Jack rose and, careful of her injured arm, clasped her to him. Harry, rounding the corner of the house in a bound, paused and—correctly interpreting the scene—hurled himself upon Jack with a whoop of delight. Staggering slightly from the impact of his exuberance, Jack lifted him off his feet in a crushing bear hug. Scooping up Xander with one arm and presenting the other to Rosie, the Earl of St. Anton led his family into the house.

  Mrs. Glover, bustling into the parlour with champagne and glasses, was persuaded to join them for a toast.

  “Why did you go back to London, Jack?” Tom asked.

  “That reminds me.” Jack produced a document from his coat pocket and handed it to Rosie. “I went to get that.” She scanned it quickly before raising shining eyes to his face. “’Tis that damned confession of yours, scamp. I persuaded the lawyer to part with it. It was either that or break into his offices.”

  “Break into the lawyer’s offices?” Harry’s voice was tinged with envy. “By Jove, I wish I’d thought of that while I was in London. How much I would have enjoyed it!”

  “Heaven help us, we’ll have the lad turning into a housebreaker next. Throw that blasted thing onto the fire and let us never speak of it again,” Jack commanded, and Harry, with a delighted flourish, rushed to do his bidding. They watched in silence as the paper blackened, curled and then caught light before vanishing into the flames.

  “Two years of hell.” Tom’s voice was thick with emotion as the final ember burned away. “Gone in a minute.”

  “And over for good,” Jack said, lifting his glass. “To a new beginning.”

  After they had drunk their toast, Mrs. Glover glanced at the mantel clock. “Aye, ’tis a new beginning I’d best be having. There’s a casserole for dinner that won’t make itself.” She bustled away.

  Her departure had the effect of breaking up the celebration. Tom went to tend the horses, and Harry offered to take Xander back into the garden with the dogs to resume their game.

  “Where did the puppy come from?” Jack asked, observing his son as he and the young dog tumbled on the rug.

  Harry blushed. “It seems that, before we left for London, Beau may have developed a liking for a lady retriever who belongs to one of the tenant farmers.”

  Beau, still limping slightly from his injury, had the grace to look abashed at his master’s condemnatory tone as he followed him out of the room.

  “Our family are considerately giving us some time alone,” Jack observed, as he closed the door before drawing Rosie into his arms.

  In reply, she hid her face against his shoulder, saying in muffled accents, “I wondered if you might have seen Lady Kendall while you were in London.”

  Jack took hold of her chin and tilted her face up to him. “You appear to have the self-confidence of a gnat and a very poor opinion of my fidelity, sweetheart. The remedy will be for me to devote the rest of my life to convincing you of my love for you. Besides, the latest gossip was that Perry appears much smitten with Louisa, and that she is not entirely immune to his charm. That strikes me as a match made in heaven. Or between the pages of a farce. I confess, I neither know nor care which.” His voice became serious. “I never did care about Louisa. Despite all those rumours, we didn’t have an affair. Poor Lady Lou found herself a new and quite unexpected role. She was forced to listen to my lovesick tales of woe. There has never been anyone for me but you since the day I first saw you, Rosie.” He dropped a kiss onto the end of her nose. “It almost doesn’t matter any more, but why did you feel you couldn’t tell me the truth of what Sheridan was putting you through as soon as we met again in London?”

  “For all the reasons you already know. Clive threatened that he would make Harry’s so-called confession public should anything happen to him. I knew if I told you the true story, you would kill him, Jack. Even if you no longer loved me”—his hands tightened on her waist—“I knew your sense of justice would not allow you to let him get away with it. But there was another reason. There was the promise I made to my father, just before he died, that I would take care of Harry.”

  “I thought your father was unable to speak after his first heart attack?”

  “He could barely talk. He was incapable of explaining what had caused his heart attack, although I suspected it was something to do with Clive by his reaction whenever he saw him. When Clive explained his proposition—or blackmail plot—for our marriage, I knew beyond doubt, of course. But my father was able to say a few disjointed words. The day before my wedding, he gripped my hand tightly and said ‘Harry’. I knew what he meant. I promised him I would always take care of my brother and ensure he was able to take his place as the master of Delacourt Grange.”

  “And your father died the next day.” Jack held her closer.

  She nodded her head against his shoulder. “Clive had promised that once we were married, he would destroy Harry’s confession. I scarcely remember that hateful ceremony. All I can recall is thinking that when it was over, Harry would be free. Instead, Clive announced that he had decided to keep the document to guarantee my obedience. While he still had that signed confession, he could ensure I would never leave him and he would have access to my money. When my father heard the news, he suffered a second heart attack, and that one killed him.” There was a glint of tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. “Don’t you see, Jack? If I’d told you and you’d killed Clive, Harry would have gone to the gallows. I’d have broken my promise to my father.”

  “While you were carrying this burden, I was wasting time wallowing in needless self-pity, wandering the continent.”

  Rosie’s smile banished her tears. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “You can start by telling me you love me in return, something you have not yet done.”

  “But I have,” she protested. “I told you two years ago I loved you more than life itself. That didn’t change, Jack. It never will.”

  He smiled down at her. “I cannot wait to make you my wife. But while you are still my mistress, I recall a very specific request for something you wanted me to do to you…”

  * * *

  St. Anton Court, Northumberland

  The wedding was a quiet affair, attended by a small number of guests.

  “So ye’ve got your happy ending at last, Lord Jack? I’m glad. Two years is a devilish long time for a man to carry around a broken heart.” Fraser Lachlan clapped his cousin on the shoulder in congratulations.

  “Rosie was conscious of how it looked to Lady Harpenden—and the wider world—if she married so soon after Sheridan’s death, but I did not want to wait any longer to get that ring on her finger,” Jack explained, as they left the small chapel on the St. Anton estate and made their way back to the house. “Fate has come between us once before. I was not prepared to risk it again. To keep the gossip to a minimum, we plan to live here quietly for six months. Then we’ll take a honeymoon in France and place a small advertisement in the Gazette upon our return.”

  “What of the lad?” Fraser nodded to Xander, who was eyeing his second cousin Jack Lachlan with all the disfavour of one who has just discovered he is not the centre of everyone’s universe.

  “Strange though it seems, I will have to go through the process of adopting him and naming him as my heir.” Jack laughed. “But I’ll not be using Reginald Walker Esquire of White Horse Alley to complete the legalities.”

  “A bad business that.” Fraser shook his head. “And if yon Falcon had any sense, he’d take himself off to the continent for a while until the heat dies down. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that?”

  “None whatsoeve
r. You know him as well as I do. He thrives on danger. I believe he is relying on the fact that, unlike me, he really does lead a charmed life.”

  They caught up to the other guests. Rosie was walking arm in arm with Martha, whose second pregnancy was beginning to slow her down, while Harry regarded Perry’s sartorial elegance with a fascinated eye. Tom walked with Lady Harpenden to one side of the group and made painstaking conversation with her about the weather.

  Jack spoke to Perry apart from the others. “I wished to thank you for coming all this way, and for escorting Lady Harpenden. I imagine she is not the easiest of travelling companions.”

  “Delighted to be here, old chap. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  “And Louisa? The last I heard, things looked promising there.”

  Perry shook his head sadly. “I couldn’t compete with the lure of Paris. Apparently St. Etienne invited her to some grand affaire at Versailles. You know what they say about Lady Lou.”

  “I don’t think I’d care to repeat most of the things that are said about her.”

  Perry grinned appreciatively. “She certainly doesn’t behave like other women.”

  “That’s probably why men like her so much.”

  “And why she leaves a trail of destruction in her wake.” Perry made an effort to shake off his introspective mood. “Enough of that, I would never have been able to keep up with her. Although making the attempt would have been enjoyable. Let’s away inside so that I can make a toast to the Countess of St. Anton.”

  “I would much rather we drank a toast to Jack Lindsey’s wife.” Rosie turned her head to smile at them. “Since we first met two years ago, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

  About the Author

  Jane Godman writes in a variety of genres, including historical romance, gothic romance, paranormal romance and romantic suspense. Many of her stories feature haunted characters tormented by dark secrets.

  Jane writes steamy historical romance for Samhain Publishing, and her Georgian Rebel Series features compelling heroes who fight hard for the cause they believe in and harder for the women they love.

  Jane lives in Cheshire, England, is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at:

  Website: www.janegodmanauthor.com

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/JaneGodman

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Jane-Godman-Author/133131640171522

  Look for these titles by Jane Godman

  Now Available:

  The Georgian Rebel Series

  A Kiss for a Highlander

  Taming His Rebel Lady

  Valley of Nightmares

  Don’t miss other titles in Jane Godman’s Georgian Rebel Series!

  A passion that burns away centuries of hate…

  The Georgian Rebel Series, Book 1

  Stranded in the heart of England after Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hasty retreat, highlander Fraser Lachlan has sworn to stay by his injured friend’s side. But when a kindly English family takes Jack in to be cared for by the governess and healer at their Derbyshire estate, Fraser can only watch helplessly.

  It’s just a matter of time before Jack is turned over to the Crown as a traitor, but Fraser’s attempt to rescue his friend is met with the blunt end of a candlestick.

  Martha Wantage wears every reason she hates the Scots on her body—in the scars from a violent, fiery attack that killed her family. Now she has not only one unconscious Jacobite rebel at her mercy, but two. And she can’t resist cursing her enemy with the “kiss of hate”.

  That kiss unleashes a storm of passion that rages quickly out of control. But with the legacy of Martha’s scars weighing heavy on her mind, and Fraser’s duty calling him to battle at Culloden, it may be too late to explore whether theirs is a desire born of hate…or love.

  Warning: Contains a very sexy, masterful highlander and a demure, but defiant, governess who discovers the hard—very hard—way exactly what a Scotsman keeps under his kilt.

  Can the heat of passion burn too bright?

  The Georgian Rebel Series, Book 2

  In the six months since the Jacobites met defeat at Culloden, the English have ruthlessly routed the remaining rebels. Now Sir Edwin Roxburgh rides to claim Cameron House, his reward for his loyalty to the king.

  His welcome comes at the point of a sword. It’s only after a fierce fight that Edwin discovers that underneath the banned tartan, the “boy” he’s just wounded is none other than the lady of the house.

  If the crown thinks Lady Iona Cameron will allow an English soldier to turn her out of her own home, the crown is sadly mistaken. She never thought her desperate attempt to defy authority would send her to a traitor’s death—unless she agrees to marry Roxburgh.

  Edwin quickly realizes he has his hands full trying to control the fiery, rebellious widow—and trying to control his own desire to fill his arms with her beautiful body. But he has a dark past that makes love not only impossible, but dangerous—especially if Iona manages to slip past his guard.

  Warning: Contains a rebellious heroine with a secret identity, and a hero with a secret past who’s determined to tame her wild ways. Be warned: his methods are erotically unusual.

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  The Jacobite’s Return

  Copyright © 2016 by Jane Godman

  ISBN: 978-1-61923-264-8

  Edited by Anne Scott

  Cover by Kim Killion

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: May 2016

  www.samhainpublishing.com