Winning the Mail-order Bride & Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance & Redeeming the Rogue Knight (9781488021725)

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Winning the Mail-order Bride & Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance & Redeeming the Rogue Knight (9781488021725) Page 23

by Robinson, Lauri; Mallory, Sarah; Hobbes, Elisabeth


  “Yes, that’s exactly what this means,” Wyatt agreed happily. “Forever and ever.”

  “That’s right,” Brett announced, kneeling down beside her. “Forever and ever.”

  “Then I’m ready,” Rhett said.

  “Me too,” Wyatt added.

  “Me three,” Brett chimed in.

  Fiona laughed. “Me four.”

  A hush fell over the pews full of people as the four of them walked into the building. Rhett and Wyatt, side by side, led the way to the altar. Fiona, holding on to Brett’s arm, really didn’t need her feet. It was as if she floated along beside him, riding on the wings of happiness and love.

  She may have been in Oak Grove only a week, but familiar faces smiled at her the entire way forward. Right to the front row, where Martha and Otis, Joyce and her husband, Chester, and their two children, Charlie and Betty, along with Josiah, sat on one side. On the other side sat Maggie and Jackson, Steve and Mary, Hannah, and Angus O’Leary. He’d arrived at the house this morning to say he was Hannah’s escort for the day.

  The old man winked at her, and Fiona winked back. Josiah might be the mayor of Oak Grove, but there wasn’t a more prominent citizen than Angus O’Leary.

  The preacher provided a flawless service, Fiona was sure of that, but in truth, she couldn’t remember exactly what he’d shared during the sermon. She was too focused on the man she was marrying. In all the world there couldn’t be a more perfect man than Brett, and more than once she’d pinched herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  When at last the preacher proclaimed, “You may now kiss your bride,” Fiona was holding her breath, anticipating the action that would tie her to Brett forever.

  That happened all right. After Brett shouted, “Yee-haw!” he picked her up, twirled her around, set her back down and planted a kiss on her lips that lasted so long she could have fainted for lack of air.

  Or she may have been out of air because she was laughing as hard as everyone else in the church. Life with this man was going to be fun. She was ready for fun, and laughter. The life she’d always known was out there, just waiting for her to break out of the past and step up to claim it.

  She laughed again as Brett scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the church as the people in the pews all cheered and clapped.

  On the steps he kissed her again before saying, “As much as I want to carry you straight home, I can’t. We have to attend the party in the meadow first. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  Fiona wouldn’t mind being carried straight home either, but this was Brett. He cared about people’s feelings, their needs, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. “Me neither, and there’s food.”

  “This may be the only time you ever hear this, but I’m not hungry,” he said while carrying her down the steps.

  “I did hear that once before,” she reminded him lovingly.

  He winked at her. “I was a bit grumpy that day.”

  “And I was a bit stubborn,” she said, kissing his cheek as he finally lowered her feet to the ground.

  He held out his arm for her to hook her elbow with his. “This way to the food, Mrs. Blackwell.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Blackwell,” she answered.

  He winked at her again. “Eat fast.”

  She laughed. And laughed her way through most of the afternoon. It truly was a glorious wedding day by all accounts.

  When Brett arrived at her side, she not only knew he was ready to leave, she was too. Rollie and Sadie Austin had invited Rhett and Wyatt to spend the night with them at the hotel, and Hannah had informed them with a shy smile that she’d stay the night at Martha’s. Therefore it was just she and Brett who entered the house shortly before evening.

  No words were needed. Barely any were spoken other than whispered I love yous as they closed themselves in the bedroom and, with mutual consent, slowly undressed one another.

  Fiona told herself there was no reason to be shy. She certainly wasn’t a virgin, yet she felt like one. Like a part of her was untouched. Maybe it was because she was untouched by Brett. Something she craved so intensely it made her slightly nervous.

  She was breathless too. But that was caused by the sight of Brett. He was a handsome man, but unclothed, he was a magnificent being. His body was so sculpted, so defined; he was like some superior male specimen that God had only been able to create once. She truly couldn’t believe he was hers. But he was, and she was going to enjoy him for the rest of her life. “Are you ready to fulfill that promise? Show me how amazing you are?”

  With a self-assured grin, he gestured toward his waist. “What do you think?”

  She laughed as she sauntered toward him. “I do think that’s pretty amazing.” Reaching out, she grasped his shoulders and gave him a shove, making him land on the bed. “Now show me what it does.”

  He did all right, but he took his time, treating her like a queen the entire way. The way he touched her, caressed her, kissed her with such tenderness she truly felt worshipped. She’d never imagined there was so much more to coupling than the final act.

  When they ultimately came together as husband and wife, it was beyond comprehension. He took her further than anything she’d known existed and kept her there, riding wave after wave of immense pleasure. She’d never considered herself greedy, but in this instance, she was, and relished every second of it, and rejoiced in the ultimate freeing reward.

  The aftermath left her suspended in an unearthly place too beautiful to describe. Surrounded by splendor, by peace and happiness, she snuggled against Brett’s side, loving the feel of his heart beating beneath her palm.

  “That was so amazing, I’m going to have to pinch myself again,” she whispered. “To make sure I’m not dreaming.”

  “Welcome to my world,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ve been pinching myself for the last twenty-four hours.”

  “You have not,” she said, giggling. His humor would always delight her. As would his love, and his amazing body.

  “Want to see the bruises?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she challenged.

  He rolled over, trapping her beneath him as he balanced on his arms. “Only if you promise to kiss them.”

  A thrill shot through her. “All right,” she agreed. “I promise.”

  * * * * *

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  ISBN-13: 9781488021657

  Winning the Mail-Order Bride

  Copyright © 2017 by Lauri Robinson

  All rights reserved.
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  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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  Beneath that puritanical dress she was quite beautiful

  Viscount Gilmorton had never seduced a woman before but, as the only way to avenge himself on her deceitful brother, he was prepared to disgrace the buttoned-up Deborah Meltham.

  He was planning nothing more than to shame her, but not beyond repair. Gil would ensure that she came to him willingly, because if Deborah was as lonely as he thought, she should be receptive to him. Only Gil hadn’t counted on his feelings for her changing—nor her reaction when she realized he’d been deceiving her from the start…

  It would be no hardship to court her.

  Gil felt a sudden constriction in his chest, a jolt of unwelcome attraction.

  Her disgrace, her downfall, would hit her brother hard. From all he had learned Gil was convinced that the only way to be avenged upon the man was through his sister. The fellow had already gambled away most of his fortune and seemed to care little for the fact. It was only his sister who was keeping him from bankruptcy and disgrace. Gil turned away from the dance floor, trampling his scruples. It had to be this way.

  And Deborah Meltham?

  Again, Gil stifled his conscience. It was only a whisper, easily pushed aside. His years as a soldier had inured him to much greater suffering than anything he was likely to inflict here. After all, it was not as if he planned any real harm to the woman. She would come to him willingly, but her seduction would be his revenge upon her brother. A seduction for a life.

  Author Note

  Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance required research into some of the Regency’s darker secrets, such as the use of laudanum. Opium mixed with a little alcohol was widely used to provide pain relief in a time when there was nothing else. Laudanum was highly addictive and among the “opium eaters” of the day were the poet Coleridge and even the reformer William Wilberforce. The extent of the Regency’s opium addiction was exposed in Thomas De Quincey’s Confessions of an English Opium Eater.

  There was also a continuous fight by the Bank of England against counterfeit money. The practise of coining is well known—coins had their edges clipped off and the clippings were melted down to make new coins. What is less well known is the trade in counterfeit notes. This was particularly prevalent during the time this book is set, because bad harvests and the ongoing war had reduced stocks of gold bullion to low levels. Clever forgeries of bank notes were circulated via the use of “utterers,” poor women who would use the notes to buy relatively cheap goods and receive good coin in change.

  The main characters in this story are complex and damaged. Deborah Meltham thinks herself too disfigured for any man to want her and has devoted her life to looking after her beloved but dissolute brother. Gil, Viscount Gilmorton, is grieving for the loss of his loved ones and carrying a heavy burden of guilt because he was not there to protect them. When Gil’s and Deb’s paths cross, there is an instant attraction. Find out how they overcome the obstacles to achieve their happy ending.

  Happy reading!

  Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance

  SARAH MALLORY

  Sarah Mallory was born in the West Country, England, 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 for The Dangerous Lord Darrington and 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

  Return of the Runaway

  The Outcast’s Redemption

  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!)

  Stand-Alone Novels

  The Earl’s Runaway Bride

  To Catch a Husband…

  Bought for Revenge

  The Scarlet Gown

  Never Trust a Rebel

  The Duke’s Secret Heir

  Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance

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  To my fellow Quayistas (you know who you are) for the love, friendship, support and understanding that only other writers can give.

  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

  Epilogue

  CHAPTER ONE

  So here was his quarry. Miss Deborah Meltham.

  Standing at the side of the assembly room, away from the glitter of the chandeliers, Gil studied the lady as she went down the dance with her brother. There was a decided likeness between the pair although Randolph, Lord Kirkster, was taller and fairer. Gil had to admit he was a handsome young buck, fashionably dressed and with his thick, waving hair brushed back from his pale brow. He was also a graceful dancer, but there was an air of indifference about him, a restlessness to his face, as if he wanted to be elsewhere. The epitome of a Byronic hero, thought Gil, his lip curling, and already as dissolute as the poet himself. He turned his attention to the lady.

  Beneath the plain round gown of green muslin her figure looked good, but she was very slim. Petite. Not at all his style. A mirthless laugh shook him at the irrelevance of the popular saying. He had never shown preference for any lady, for he was convinced that soldiers should not marry and he was a soldier. Or he had been. Having sold out, he supposed that at some point he would take a wife, but it would be a marriage of convenience for both parties. There was no need for the heart to be involved. In his experience love meant only loss and unbearable pain.

  What he was planning now had nothing to do with marriage or courtship. It was to fulfil an oath he had taken and was the only way to assuage the grief that thre
atened to devour him. Since leaving the army last summer he had withdrawn from society, a prey to his grief and determined upon revenge. Which was why he was so interested in Deborah Meltham. He turned his attention back to her.

  Her features were regular and he supposed she might be quite pretty, if she dressed her hair more becomingly, instead of having it scraped back so severely into a knot. She wore no jewels and her dress was high necked and long-sleeved. A dowd, Gil decided, coldly assessing her. Not at all attractive. But at that moment Lord Kirkster spoke, she looked up and a sudden smile transformed her face. The lively animation in her countenance and the decided twinkle in her green eyes forced him to revise his opinion. Reluctantly he admitted that she was more than pretty.

  He felt a sudden contraction in his chest, a jolt of unwelcome attraction. Beneath that puritanical dress and severe hairstyle she was quite beautiful.

  ‘So it should be no hardship to court her,’ he muttered.

  He pushed aside a tremor of distaste. He had never before seduced a woman, although in more than a decade of military service he had seen other men do it, dozens of times. He had no time for such knavery, nor for romance: in his opinion there was no room for such emotion in a soldier’s life. Not that there had been any shortage of women willing to throw themselves at him and he had taken some of them to his bed, but only those who understood the rules, who knew he offered nothing more than dalliance. The liaisons never lasted long and when it ended Gil always provided a generous settlement to soften the blow.

  This, however, was different. He would take no pleasure in it, although it must be done. He raised a hand to his cheek, rubbing one finger lightly along the fine, jagged line that ran down to his jaw. The scar might cause some small difficulty, especially since he was using neither his title nor his wealth to entice the lady. Well, time would tell.

 

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