Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection

by Dawn Brower, Amanda Mariel

  This one is for the fans of Scandalous Endeavors. You all mean the world to me!

  FOREWORD

  Scandalous Intentions is the second book I ever wrote and it holds a special place in my heart. This is the first book I had fans ask for. When I wrote book one in this series it was not meant to be a series but then an amazing thing happened. People actually picked up my work, read it, and asked for more! I was so nervous writing it because I did not want to let anyone down. When it released I sat on pins and needles waiting to see what the fans of book one thought about book two.

  * * *

  To my continued amazement they wanted more. Now I have turned Ladies and Scoundrels into a five book series! I am honored to do what I love and thank each and every person who picks up my books. You are all amazing!!

  CHAPTER 1

  London 1843

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  SARAH KNEW EXACTLY what kind of man he was. All of London did. He was the type of man no respectable woman should associate with.

  She picked up a champagne flute and looked around. For the third time that night, her gaze collided with his. Lord Julian Carrington, the Marquess of Luvington. She lingered there for a moment, taking in the despicably delicious sight of him. He leaned against a white pillar, green eyes dancing in the lamp light. Drat. Every time she turned around, she found him watching her. Was there no escaping his attention?

  A grin spread across his lips, sending a rush of heat into her cheeks. When he winked, she snapped her attention back to Grace Stratton, the Duchess of Abernathy. “Would you care for a stroll on the veranda?”

  Sarah simply had to break her connection with the notorious rake, and exiting the room would provide the perfect escape from his attentions.

  Grace closed her fan. “A splendid idea.” She pivoted and moved through a sea of colorful ball gowns, toward the exit.

  Sarah walked beside the duchess, neither speaking a word as they approached the open doors. Cool air washed across her as she stepped over the threshold into the night. The breeze picked up as if seeking to wipe away the heat that rose in her cheeks at the thought of Lord Luvington and his unwanted glances. Blackguard.

  Glancing at Grace, Sarah sighed. “What do you suppose he was staring at us for?”

  Grace giggled, her strawberry blonde tresses bouncing. “Not us, dear. You.”

  Sarah turned to her. “He signed my dance card, too. Taking the last waltz. But why? What would a rake the likes of him want with me?”

  “Perhaps it is nothing,” Grace waved her fan. “But there is one way to find out.”

  “Please expound, Your Grace.” Sarah peered at her, a faint grin pulling at her lips.

  “Ask him.”

  Grace took a step toward the veranda doors and Sarah followed. “Maybe I will.” She glanced up at the stars twinkling in the sky and moved across the threshold. “Or perhaps I will simply refuse. After all, the last waltz is for couples.”

  “It will do you no harm to honor his request.”

  Except it could. A woman had to be careful around a man like that. At least they were in a public place. What could he do to her here, amidst the ton?

  Sarah followed Grace into the room just as the quartet played the last notes of a waltz. Lord Gibbs waited for her on the edge of the dance floor. She nodded to Grace as he swept her into the middle of the room for their dance. Despite her current partner, her thoughts wandered where they should not. Lord Luvington. Her pulse quickened at the idea of being so close to the handsome rake. A dance could prove tolerable.

  No. She had no desire to become the object of tomorrow’s gossip. The idea of a renowned rake taking an interest in her upset her equilibrium. She worked hard to maintain her social standing and did not intend to let anyone damage her reputation. One scandal could ruin a lady beyond repair. She had seen it happen time and again. Her stomach tightened.

  “Lady Sarah, did you hear me?”

  Sarah blinked and focused on Lord Gibbs. “My apologies, I was lost in the music.” She gave him a smile. “You have my attention now.”

  “I asked if you are enjoying the ball.” He twirled her through a line of other fashionable lords and ladies. The scents of their colognes mingled together in an exotic mix of flowers and spices.

  “Indeed. Lady Vivian outdid herself. I find the ball riveting, a smashing success for certain. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I enjoyed one so thoroughly.”

  “Nor can I.” He spun her around.

  Sarah turned her mouth up politely. Lord Gibbs had been courting her since last season, but she did not fancy him for more than a friend. She’d made her position clear early on, even so, he still pursued her. Mayhap he hoped to sway her. It would not happen. Sarah had made her mind up to marry for love or remain a Miss some time ago. Much to Mother’s dismay, she had made it through four seasons unattached. Her father, on the other hand, fully supported her decision.

  “You look lovely tonight, Lady Sarah.” Lord Gibbs pulled her closer.

  “Thank you, my lord. You look rather dashing yourself.” It was not a lie, he was attractive. She simply did not love him. Besides, the idea of becoming some gentleman’s property did not appeal to her overmuch.

  The song wound down, and Lord Gibbs escorted her off the dance floor. Once again, her gaze fell on Lord Luvington. Blast, the man continued to linger near her. She studied him before she could stop herself, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw, the luster of his golden-brown hair. His smoldering blue gaze met hers, and he grinned wickedly at her as if he knew what she looked like under her shift. Sarah’s cheeks warmed, and she turned away.

  She spied Mother, serving herself a drink at the refreshment table. Sarah made haste to join her. Being around one’s parents made it so much easier to keep one’s thoughts away from forbidden things. She lifted a sparkling flute of champagne to her lips and took her place at Mother’s side.

  “Where has Papa gotten off to?” She took a drink of the cool, bubbling liquid.

  “He wanted to have a word with your brother. They will be back in a moment.” Mother tipped her chin toward Lord Luvington. “Appears you have collected a new admirer.”

  Sarah’s cheeks burned as she took him in, her gaze roaming across his broad chest. What would it feel like to be wrapped in his arms? She flipped open her fan, cooling herself. So much for keeping her thoughts clean. “It is scandalous the way he keeps watching me.”

  “Nonsense daughter, you should be flattered.” Mother rested her gloved hand on her chest. “It is not a daily occurrence for you to catch the eye of a marquess.”

  Sarah inhaled sharply and snapped her fan closed. Had everyone lost their minds? “Mother, he is a known rake.”

  “Calm yourself, dear. I did not tell you to marry him, only to be flattered by his attention. Though it is high time you consider finding a spouse. Perhaps more tasteful gentleman will be inspired by the attention Lord Luvington bestows upon you.”

  Someone cleared their throat. Sarah glanced behind her, her heart skipping a beat.

  “Whose attentions should my darling tulip be flattered by?” Father looked between Sarah and his wife.

  Mother grinned at her husband. “It is nothing, really. Do not bother yourself with it, love.” She placed her hand under his arm.

  He patted it, then looked at Sarah. “Are you enjoying the evening, dearest?”

  “Indeed, Papa.” If Mother believed it best to keep her admirer’s identity from Papa, then she would.

  “And you will let me know if said gentleman’s attentions cross the line?”

  Sarah nodded, sending her earbobs dancing. “Yes, Papa.”

  “Very well. Excuse us then.” He gave his wife a smile. “I have been waiting to show your lovely mother off on the dance floor.”

  Sarah angled her head toward the sleek marble clearing. “You had better hurry, lest you miss your chance.” She lifted her crystal flute to her lips.

  Mother beamed as Papa led her through the crush
toward the dance floor. Perhaps Mother was correct, not about gaining the attention of a suitable match, but about Lord Luvington’s attention being innocuous. After all, it was not she who acted inappropriately. She would enjoy the rest of the ball, and if Lord Luvington insisted on studying her, then so be it.

  Later in the night, Sarah stood and arched her back as the quartet started a new tune. She had been dancing for hours and her feet ached inside of her thin slippers. On several occasions during the evening she’d caught Lord Luvington studying her.

  She simply could not understand his sudden interest. Soon enough she would get the chance to ask him outright about his behavior toward her. Two dances remained. No doubt Lord Shillington would seek her out before long…and then Lord Luvington.

  Good heavens, the mere thought of dancing the final waltz with him set her nerves on edge. Her hands began to shake. No way did she believe his intentions innocent. She took a deep breath and steeled herself as Lord Shillington approached.

  He bowed. “Shall we?”

  Sarah forced a smile and threaded her hand through his offered arm. At least Lord Shillington was not an admirer, he was a family friend. The dance would prove more pleasurable for that. So long as he did not step on her toes.

  Sarah moved in tune to the music while Lord Shillington led her through the dance. She could not help but search out Lord Luvington in the crowd, knowing their waltz came next.

  He stood near the veranda door, and their gazes locked for an instant before Shillington turned her around. She nibbled her bottom lip. Refusing the dance would be considered poor manners, something she had never been accused of. Sarah sighed.

  “What bothers you, Lady Sarah?” Genuine interest reflected in Lord Shillington’s gaze.

  She offered a small smile. Other than her brother, Lord Shillington was the only gentleman with whom she could speak freely. He never judged her, nor did he share her musings with others. However, did she want to discuss this with him?

  “Clearly something has you riled. You can tell me, whatever it is. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

  “It is nothing.” Sarah glanced back at the veranda for a moment. “Only, how well do you know Lord Luvington?”

  Lord Shillington’s mouth quirked in a teasing grin. “Has a gentleman finally captured your fancy?”

  “Goodness, no,” she said without thought, then blushed at her rudeness. “But he did sign my dance card.”

  Shillington twirled her, and when she came back into his hold he said, “Lord Luvington is a fine chap. I play cards with him at White’s on occasion.” He blinked. “I should likely refrain from telling you any of this.”

  “Any of what? Gentlemen play cards all the time.”

  “Yes, of course. What I was about to tell you is of a different nature.” His cheeks tinted pink.

  Much like her, Lord Shillington was seen as a pillar of good moral behavior among their peers. Clumsiness plagued him and had gained him quite the reputation, but no one questioned his character.

  “Now you simply must tell me.” Sarah batted her lashes and formed her lips into a pout.

  “He is rather…how can I put this delicately?” He glanced away. “Popular among the fairer sex.”

  “A rake, you mean.”

  He swallowed, meeting her gaze again. “No matter. A dance will be fine.”

  “Even if it is the last waltz of the evening?”

  “Even so.” Lord Shillington spun her and brought her back into his arms once more. “There now, do you not feel more at ease?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She allowed her eyes to close for an instant. How would she survive a dance with such a man?

  The quartet ended their song, and Lord Shillington led Sarah over to Lord Luvington. “I hear you have the pleasure of Lady Sarah’s final waltz.”

  “Indeed I do.” Lord Luvington proffered his arm for her.

  She glanced up at him before accepting it. Her stomach gave an unwelcome flutter. Warmth spread across her chest and cheeks as she imagined everyone in the ballroom staring at them. He led her to the middle of the dance floor and gathered her into his arms as the quartet resumed playing.

  “Relax, my lady. It is only a dance.”

  Mortified, she tipped her chin. “I am relaxed.” How had he known she fretted? Sarah took a calming breath as she glanced around at the other couples.

  “If this is you being relaxed, I pity those exposed to you when you are not.”

  His smile did uncomely things to her insides.

  “On my honor, this is only a dance.”

  “I do not believe you have any honor, my lord, nor am I fool enough to believe this an innocent dance.” She glanced up at him. “You want something from me.”

  He grinned. “Perhaps I do.”

  “You are wasting your time, my lord.”

  “Unless, of course, this is simply a dance.”

  “You just stated you want something from me.” Sarah balled her free hand in the fabric of her skirts. If she were less of a lady, she would slap his face for toying with her.

  “No, I said perhaps I wanted something. Which means I could very well want nothing.” He arched one dark brow and a chestnut lock of hair flopped onto his forehead.

  Good heavens, no man should be so attractive. She stared into his green eyes. “Enough of your games. Tell me what you want, Lord Luvington.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, tonight,” She bit out through clenched teeth.

  “Tonight, I want to hold you.”

  His rakish grin made her heart nearly stop. She blushed at the implication and glanced at the couples dancing nearby. Another statement the likes of that one and she would be ruined for sure.

  He pulled her scandalously close, leaning in until his lips brushed her ear. “Tomorrow, I want to get to know you better.”

  The waltz ended, and before she could form a thought, he walked off, leaving her standing in the middle of the dance floor.

  Alone.

  CHAPTER 2

  LORD LUVINGTON’S jaw ticked as he entered the office. He was not surprised to find Father seated behind his regal mahogany desk. After his dance with Lady Sarah, he’d called for his carriage and received a missive requesting his appearance at the ducal estate along with it. The sun had already peaked above the horizon painting the landscape in shades of orange and pink by the time Julian ordered his driver to make haste for his patents’ estate. Now that he’d arrived, he only hoped to get the meeting over with quickly.

  “Good morning, Julian.”

  “Is it, Father?” He steeled himself for an interrogation. The Duke of Tisdale knew how to get the answers he wanted better than the Peelers. And Julian had no doubt his father planned to hold him accountable.

  “Make yourself comfortable, my boy, and tell me about the Wexil ball.” Father leaned forward in his seat.

  Julian took the leather chair in front of Father’s desk. “There is nothing to tell. It was a ball like any other.” Father’s most recent mandate and doggedness did nothing to endear him to Julian. But then, was that not how it had always been? Father got an idea then shoved it at Julian until he succumbed to his wishes.

  Father slammed his hand down on his desk. “Do not be evasive with me. Your time is ticking down, Julian. I fear you do not realize how serious your situation is.”

  Julian tipped his head back and took a deep breath. “There is no need to remind me. I am well aware of my situation.”

  Father studied him. “Then you realize if you fail to marry a respectable lady before month’s end, you will not receive so much as another farthing from me? You will become a broke marquess and will remain as such until you inherit the duchy.”

  Julian’s pulse quickened, anger and frustration heating his blood. Father’s words were no mere threat. “I cannot pluck a respectable lady from her home and elope. You are being entirely unreasonable.”

  He leaned back in his seat. “Nonsense, I met and married your dear mothe
r in less than a fortnight.” His eyes danced, showing a rare flicker of gentleness for her. “Have you at least begun courting a respectable lady?”

  “I have. Lady Sarah Roseington. I am to call upon her this afternoon.” Julian fought a smirk; his words carried a shade of truth. Sarah had not agreed to his courtship, but he had told her he would call on her all the same.

  He pictured the look on her beautiful face as he walked away from her mere hours ago. The memory of the fire in her violet eyes and the feel of her small waist beneath his hand caused his loins to tighten. He longed to run his fingers through her golden tresses, to hold her close once again. To inhale her sweet scent.

  “Very well. She will make a fine duchess, and her impeccable character will go a long way in repairing yours. Do not sully the girl before you wed her.” He lifted a gray brow, pinning his son beneath his hazel stare.

  A chill coursed through Julian at Father’s words. “I would not dare compromise the lady. Now, may I be excused? I need to rest before I call upon her.”

  A swoosh of skirts announced Mother entering the office. “Call upon whom?” She moved to Julian’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. A bright smile lit her heart-shaped face.

  He grinned before standing to embrace her. Julian would never stop appreciating how loving she was in contrast to his harsh Father.

  In all fairness, Father probably could not help his nature. According to Mother, Grandfather had treated Father in much the same way. Unfortunately, Grandmother had passed away during childbirth so Father never had the influence of a loving, supportive parent.

  “Good morning, Mother.” Julian released her and stepped back.

  Her green eyes, so much like his own, scanned his face. “Did I hear you say you are courting someone?” She beamed at him.

  “Yes, Lydia, he has chosen Lady Sarah Roseington.” Father cut in.

  She glanced between them. “How wonderful. She is a marvelous choice.” Mother nodded her head, her earbobs sparkling. “As you know I play whist with her mother. Lady Sarah joins us on occasion. She’s a delightful girl.”