Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection

by Dawn Brower, Amanda Mariel

  “I wish to make a deal. An arrangement of sorts.” She fought the urge to glance away.

  He leaned in so close his breath fanned her ear. “I do not want your pity, Lady Sarah.” Before she could reply, he turned away from her.

  Sarah reached out, grabbing his shoulder. “It is not pity. Quite the opposite.” She wet her lips. “I want something from you, and you need something from me. We can help each other.”

  His roguish smirk made her stomach flutter. “Go on, state your terms.”

  “I must have freedom, the right to come and go as I please, as well as to continue my studies.”

  “And if I agree to your terms, you will marry me?” His eyes held a challenge she did not understand.

  “That is but part of the bargain. I wish to remain in control of my dowry as well.” She looked out at the landscaped lawn, nibbling at her bottom lip. “And I require you to give up any mistresses you may have.”

  He placed one large hand on her shoulder. “I agree to your terms but have a demand of my own.”

  She released her lip and met his gaze.

  Again, he leaned in close. His breath caressed her earlobe and neck. “You will grace my bed every night.”

  Her cheeks flamed. How she wished to be snug in his bed, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips upon hers. Would he find her to his liking? What if he did not? She swallowed and lowered her eyes.

  “What if we are not compatible in such a way?”

  He reached out with both hands, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her close to him. His mouth came down on hers, firm and demanding.

  Sarah arched against him as his heat seeped into her. Her head spun, and an ache formed in her core. When he ran his tongue across her lips, she opened for him on instinct, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

  She wound her arms around his neck, twining her fingers in the hair at his nape. Her legs shook, and her heart threatened to escape her chest as it pounded against her ribs.

  He pulled his lips from hers to blaze a trail across her cheek to her ear. A small moan escaped her when he drew her earlobe into his mouth. Would it always be like this?

  “It seems compatibility shall not be an issue for us, my pet.” He released her and stepped away.

  Legs like plum pudding, Sarah stared at him, breathless. Already, she missed the warmth and strength of his embrace. “I dare say I agree with your interpretation. Now, we have only one thing left in our way.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You must propose.”

  He chuckled, his deep baritone seeping into her. “Do you desire me to do so now, or would you prefer to return to the house first?”

  It would be nice to solidify their arrangement before returning to the others. She did not want to share this moment with the Duke though her parents would wish to see it.

  Grace would be rather pleased with the outcome of today’s tea. Sarah knew her friend hoped for a match. If only it were the love match she herself had always wished for. Perhaps in time, he would come to love her as she had him.

  “Very well, let us return to the lion’s den.” Lord Luvington held out his arm.

  She gazed at him for a moment but made no attempt to take it. “I would prefer for you to ask for my hand first.”

  “As you wish.” He dropped onto one knee. “My dearest Lady Sarah, I cannot imagine going forward through my life without you by my side. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I want you in my home and in my bed from now until the day death parts us.” He grinned rakishly.

  His words were eloquent but sent a pain straight to her heart. He did not love her. Theirs would be a union of convenience, nothing more. She swallowed back the pain and forced a grin in spite of it. “I shall be honored to wed you, Lord Luvington.”

  CHAPTER 13

  JULIAN LED Lady Sarah back into the dayroom. She clutched his arm so hard he could feel her fingernails through the cloth of his day coat. He patted her gloved hand before meeting Father’s gaze. “We have an announcement.”

  Father nodded. “Do not keep us waiting. Out with it.”

  Julian smirked. “Lady Sarah has accepted my proposal.”

  Well wishes and questions spilled forth as everyone in the room began speaking at once and rising from their seats. All except for Father who simply stared back at him. How baffling that the man who pushed so hard for the union showed no outward signs of pleasure.

  Mother approached, resting her hand on Lady Sarah’s. “I will be honored to call you daughter.”

  Sarah grinned. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Julian’s chest swelled with a new emotion that took him aback. Perhaps it was the simple merriment one experienced at having garnered their desired outcome, but it seemed like something more. He gazed at Lady Sarah, taking in the light blush on her cheeks and curve of her pink lips. She would be his, all his, for the rest of their days.

  “How splendid.” The Duchess of Abernathy’s voice rang out. “I knew the two of you would work it out.”

  Lady Sarah nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Julian glanced at Father. “Have you no words of congratulations for us?” His blood surged through his veins. Dammit old man, you got what you wanted, say something.

  Father scowled. “Of course I am pleased with your news.” He glanced around the room. “Come take your seats. We have much to plan.”

  Lord Havenshire stepped up, his mouth a straight tight line. “I have not consented to this engagement.” He turned back to the Duke. “I require a private conversation with Lord Luvington.”

  The words sent a jolt straight through Julian’s chest. He had not counted on Lady Sarah’s father objecting to their arrangement. How had it escaped him to ask her father for her hand? He glanced at his own father.

  Father bobbed his gray head. “Of course, you may use the office.”

  Lord Havenshire nodded then looked to Julian.

  Julian motioned toward the door. Would Lord Havenshire give them his blessing? If not, would Lady Sarah marry him without her father’s consent?

  She released his arm, and he glanced at her. A small smile graced her pink lips, but anxiety raged in her violet eyes. He offered what he hoped to be a reassuring look before turning his attention back to the others. “If you will excuse us.”

  JULIAN CLEARED his throat as he meet Lord Havenshire’s gaze. He sat across from Julian on an ottoman, his fingers steepled in front of his chin. The man had yet to utter a single word. He simply studied Julian with his hard, golden gaze in a most uncomfortable fashion.

  Julian swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Sir. You have my attention.”

  “But I have not yet ascertained your motivation. I would know how genuine your interest in my Sarah is.”

  Sweat slickened Julian’s palms. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Would you not gauge that better by asking me outright?”

  “On the contrary, there is much to learn from studying a man’s reactions, body language and such.” Lord Havenshire lowered his hands to rest upon his thighs. “You appear to be a bit nervous, Lord Luvington, but I cannot decide if it is due to genuine feelings for my girl, or simply a desire to wed her.”

  Julian’s pulse sped up, and he let out a slow breath. He could be honest. Lord Havenshire already knew of his father’s ultimatum. Did any of it matter now that he had developed real emotions where Lady Sarah was concerned?

  He would not call it love, but certainly affection; desire not only to have her in his bed but also to protect her and make her happy. He inhaled allowing the breath to fill his lungs completely before blowing it out. He glanced at the door, then back to Lord Havenshire.

  “Now I am asking. Why do you seek my daughter’s hand?” The older man assessed him, his lips a tight line.

  Perhaps a variation of the truth would be best. Julian allowed a smile. “Your daughter captivates me. She is smart, attractive, and spirited. I cannot imagine spending my life with any other woman.”


  “Ahh, but you say nothing of love.” Lord Havenshire picked up his snifter of port and took a slow sip. “Do you not love my daughter?”

  His heart did act a might strangely when she was near. His body reacted too but not in a manner foreign to him.

  Julian was no stranger to intimacy though he could not recall a time he had wanted a woman in his bed so badly. He honestly could not imagine marrying anyone else. He must love the little minx. “Yes, I believe I do.”

  “And I am to give my blessing based on your belief.” Lord Havenshire set his sparkling crystal snifter down. “Sarah wishes to marry for love and love alone. If you do not return her feelings, I cannot, in good conscience, hand her off to you.”

  Julian stood and began to pace the room, his heart hammering, the damask wallpaper closing in on him. The conversation was not going in his favor. What could he say to sway Lord Havenshire?

  He stopped and met the older man’s gaze. “And what of security and affection? Do they hold no weight?”

  “In my opinion, they carry all of the weight, but Sarah disagrees. It is my desire and responsibility to ensure her happiness. I believe she will only be truly happy in a love match.” Lord Havenshire stood and moved to the door.

  Julian rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Wait.”

  Lord Havenshire turned back to him and folded his hands together in front of his abdomen.

  “If I were to say I love Lady Sarah, what then?” Julian’s heart pounded.

  “I would ask if you are in love with her.”

  Julian opened his mouth to reply, but Lord Havenshire did not give him the chance. He opened the door and left the room.

  Staring at the empty space where Sarah’s father had been standing, Julian shook his head. He supposed Lord Havenshire would gather his family and depart. The man clearly would not consent to Julian marrying his daughter. His chest tightened. Unless...

  Julian strode from the room, back to the gathering. He stopped just inside of the arched doorway. “Father, I have something to say, and I want everyone to hear it.”

  Father squared his shoulders and stared through steel eyes. “Go on.”

  “It appears Lord Havenshire will not give his blessing.” Julian glanced at Lady Sarah and smiled regretfully, then returned his attention to his father. “I will not seek another lady’s hand.”

  Father stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the polished wood floor. A footman rushed forward. “Leave it.” Father bellowed. “Do not be a bloody fool, Julian. You will be destitute.”

  Julian clasped his hands behind his back and kept his chin high. “To Hell with your money. It means nothing if it would remove Lady Sarah from my life.”

  A soft hand squeezed his, and he looked down. Warmth spread through him. Lady Sarah stood at his side. Her small, gloved hand warmed his, and she gazed into his eyes.

  “Papa, it is my heart’s desire to be wed to Lord Luvington. There are no secrets between us. I am well aware of his need for a wife, and he is aware of my wishes as well. I ask you to reconsider.”

  Julian’s chest swelled as he looked down at Lady Sarah. Did she care for him as he did for her? Or was she only fighting for her freedom? He scanned the room and cleared his throat.

  Lady Havenshire approached her husband. “Owen.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Look at them. It is clear they both want this union. Do you not see it in their eyes? In the way they fight for one another?”

  Lord Havenshire gave his wife a nod before turning his attention to Julian and his daughter. “I believe I have changed my mind. I cannot fight all of you, and I only want what is best for my daughter.”

  Julian could not keep the grin from spreading across his face as he glanced once more at his future wife.

  Lady Sarah tipped her chin then released his hand, walked to her father, and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek.

  “There you have it, my blessing.” He studied Lord Luvington. “You had better treat her like a precious treasure.”

  “Yes, sir. Her happiness is my top priority.” His words were honest. Lady Sarah would have all of the freedom and happiness he could provide for the rest of her days.

  “I am not entirely sure why, but I do believe you are genuine.” Lord Havenshire glanced at his wife who now stood between Lady Sarah and the Dowager Duchess. All three women beamed as they fanned themselves and nodded their heads. The light from a nearby window caught on their ear bobs casting a kaleidoscope of shimmering orbs on the wall.

  “I suspected all would end well. Congratulations.” The Dowager Duchess glanced back and forth between him and Lady Sarah. “I request the honor of hosting your engagement ball.”

  “That would be lovely.” Lady Sarah answered, her gaze never leaving his.

  Mother lifted her hand, closed her fan, and circled it in the air. “Bring our best champagne at once. We must toast the engagement. Do come, sit down everyone.”

  Julian moved to sit next to Lady Sarah. Everything in him needed to be close to her. “Your Grace, if it is no trouble, you can sit next to Lord Havenshire.”

  She nodded her head. “No trouble at all.”

  Father retook his seat at the head of the table. “Julian must marry before month’s end. There is no time to tarry.”

  Julian released an exacerbated sigh. If Father could--just this once--bite his foul tongue.

  “Truly Piers, is his engagement not enough for you? Why rush the nuptials?” Mother gazed at her husband.

  “It is of no consequence. I do not wish for a long engagement.” Lady Sarah glanced at Julian. “The sooner we are wed, the better.” She gave Father a cheeky smile.

  “There you have it. I will arrange for the ball to take place night after tomorrow. That will allow just enough time to make the announcement and have invitations sent.” The Duchess of Abernathy nodded at Father.

  “Very well, and I will arrange for a special license so you can marry without delay.” Father reached for his champagne flute.

  Lady Sarah nudged Julian’s leg under the table. She smiled when he looked at her then angled her head toward Father. He followed her direction and offered a nod. “Thank you, Father.”

  Father lifted his flute into the air. “A toast to the future Duke and Duchess of Tisdale.”

  CHAPTER 14

  SARAH GLANCED around Grace’s ballroom, already tired of listening to the Duke and Duchess of Tisdale chatter about the upcoming nuptials. Her gaze faltered on Lord Shillington moving her way. Perhaps he would rescue her.

  “Have you a gown for the wedding, dear?”

  Sarah turned her attention back to the Duke. “I plan to wear my mother’s. Our seamstress is altering it as we speak.”

  “How lovely,” the Duchess said. “If you will excuse me, I must speak with your mother.”

  The duchess walked away, leaving her alone with the Duke. A sigh escaped her as she once again glanced about the lamp-lit room. Where had Lord Luvington disappeared to? He should be here with her.

  Lord Shillington stepped up beside Sarah and bowed. His lacy cravat bellowed with the movement. “Good evening, Your Grace.” He straightened and glanced at her. “Lady Sarah.”

  “Indeed it is, Lord Shillington.” The Duke folded his hands in front of his dress jacket.

  “Might I have the next set?” Lord Shillington’s eyes lingered on Lady Sarah.

  She accepted his arm as the quartet played the last notes of a country dance. “I should like that a great deal.”

  Sarah continued to search the gilded ballroom as he led her onto the dance floor. Perhaps Lord Luvington decided to play cards with the gentlemen or have a cigar in the smoking room. No matter, now that she was away from the Duke, she did not care what kept her betrothed.

  Her gaze landed on Lady Jane standing near a large white pillar. Her raven hair gleamed, piled on top of her head, and her lemon-colored ball gown flowed out around her, sweeping the beige marble floor. Much darker in coloring and a good d
eal shorter than Lord Shillington, she hardly resembled her brother. Sarah nodded as their gazes met. She would make it a point to speak with Lady Jane before the night ended.

  “I was taken by surprise when the announcement of your engagement broke.”

  Sarah looked up at Lord Shillington, lips pulling into a smile. “It did happen rather suddenly.”

  He led her nearer the center of the dance floor. “I would say so. It was less than a fortnight ago when we last danced, and you expressed your dislike of the gentleman.” He chuckled.

  Sarah joined in. “Do stop teasing me.”

  “Very well.” He spun her, then brought her back into his embrace. “Truly, I am happy for you. I simply could not resist a wee bit of jesting.”

  “I am the first to admit how silly it seems, but Lord Luvington turned out to be very different from the rake I believed him to be. Honestly, I am quite taken with him. We see no reason to drag things out.” She looked about, hoping to spot him in the crush of the crowded ballroom.

  “Am I to conclude the nuptials will take place in the near future?”

  “Indeed they will. The Duke of Tisdale has procured a special license. We are to be wed two days hence. The invitations will go out on the morrow. Of course, you will attend.” It was more of a demand than a question. Lord Shillington had become a good friend, and she wanted him there.

  “I would not miss it.” He twirled her again as the quartet played the final notes of their dance. “Ah, there is the lucky bridegroom now.”

  Sarah met her betrothed’s gaze, then took hold of Lord Shillington’s arm and allowed him to guide her off the crowded dance floor. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Julian, standing near the edge of the room near an open veranda door. The glow of a nearby lamp cast his shadow on the wall behind him. She wanted to throw herself into his arms so she could feel the strength of them wrapped around her.

  Odd how quickly she went from loathing the scoundrel to lusting after him. No… loving him. She could not fool herself any longer.

  Lord Shillington patted her hand. “Good evening, Lord Luvington.”