The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  "This is a wonderful novel of falling in love against all odds, and doing the right thing even when all of the world seems against you. It is also exceptionally erotic, and definitely one to savor in the privacy of your own bedroom!"

  - Evelyn Trimborn

  "Ash Paignton, last seen in The Model Master and The Model Mistress, now becomes the model husband when he rescues Ellen Jerome from an extremely compromising situation.

  "Ellen's gratitude blossoms to love as she enters his exotic world of Indian culture. All the pleasure she gains in Ash's company makes her realize how narrow her world has been. Ash also opens up a whole new romantic vista for the shy young girl, and as she learns about Tantric lovemaking, she begins to explore her own innate sensuality with increasing confidence and allure.

  "Her sister Georgina has hopes of her own for the handsome and prosperous young doctor. When Ellen suddenly sees the love of her life slipping away, she must overcome her deepest fears and insecurities and take matters into her own hands-literally! Another wonderful sensual novel from this marvelous author."

  -Annabelle Stevens

  "Breathtaking suspense, sizzling sensuality. Ash is a model husband, Ellen the woman who completes his life in every way. They risk everything to be together, and struggle against racism, the enmity of the Duke of Ellesmere, the evil Georgina Jerome, and the blackmailer Timothy Bridges. But true love wins through in the end.

  "This is a brilliant addition to this fabulous series. I’m always amazed at the depth of character of each of the heroes and heroines. The Rakehells just keep getting better, the love stories ever more romantic and erotic."

  -Jacinta Carey

  "An incredible novel of love against all the odds. The villains are not quite so sinister as in past Rakehell novels, but equally dangerous to innocent young Ellen Jerome and the more worldly but honourable Ash Paignton.

  "He would never harm a soul, but Georgina Jerome and the foul Timothy Bridges have no such scruples. Even the Duke of Ellesmere turns villain in a surprising twist as he lets his jealousy over his lovely wife Charlotte get the better of him, and seeks to destroy the up and coming young doctor before his career ever truly gets off the ground. If the Duke ruins Ash, how will he ever be able to support his beloved Ellen?

  "One thing is for sure, with Ash and Ellen as a couple, the Rakehells’ quiet little corner of England is about to heat up. Scorching sensuality and endlessly fascinating characters make this romance unlike anything you’ve read before. Some romance series novels get tired after the first book or two. In this case, I am thrilled to say, the Rakehell novels keeps getting better! And hotter!!"

  -Carolyn Stone

  "Ash is a wonderful hero, fulfilling every bit of the promise he has shown in the previous Rakehells novels. I love the way the characters grow and develop throughout the course of the novel through the luminous love between them. Ellen goes from self-centred and shy miss to a fierce tigress willing to do anything to protect the people she loves.

  "The conclusion of the novel was really first-rate. It was harrowing one minute, with shocking twists and turns, and brimming with incredible joy and sensuality the next. This romance is a real winner, and wonderfully erotic. I never wanted it to end."

  -J Jerome

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sorcha MacMurrough is a multi-published author from Ireland who has taught English literature and English and Irish history. She has lived all over the UK and Ireland, including London, Edinburgh, and Dublin. Her favorite cities to live in or visit are Bath and York. She loves old houses, castles and estates and can usually be found touring these locales to help make all of her settings come alive for her readers. Sorcha loves the Regency period and the Napoleonic era in particular, which form the beginning of the modern world as we know it.

  Her novels have been chosen as monthly "Top Picks" by Romantic Times, and she has also been nominated for a Reviewer's Choice award for best novel of the year by Romantic Times. When she is not writing, researching and teaching, she cooks, knits Aran sweaters, and enjoys spending time with her large family. She loves Irish dancing and music, and beachcombing on the shores of Donegal, Sligo and Galway.

  THE MODEL HUSBAND

  A Rakehell Regency Romance Novel

  Sorcha MacMurrough

  Herstory Books

  Copyright 2006, 2009 by the author

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  Under the 1988 UK copyright laws, the author asserts the right to be identified as the creator of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-58345-826-6

  Published by HerStory Books

  http://www.herstorybooks.com

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  Cast of Characters

  Ellen Jerome, quiet young heiress, victim of fortune hunters

  Ash Paignton, young doctor just back from London to go into medical practice with Blake Sanderson, and his mother Eswara Paignton Jerome

  Martin Jerome, Blake's cousin, Ellen and Georgina's cousin, an honorary Rakehell

  Eswara Paignton Jerome, his wife, a healer from India who works with Blake

  (for their story, see The Model Mistress )

  Dr. Blake Sanderson, a Rakehell, a doctor in London and Somerset

  Arabella Neville Sanderson, his wife

  (for their story, see Guardian of the Heart)

  Georgina Jerome, Ellen's younger sister, flighty young heiress and breaker of hearts

  Clifford Stone, a Rakehell, owner of Stone Court

  Vanessa Stone, nee Hawkesworth, his wife, a great scholar

  (for their story, see The Mad Mistress)

  Henry Stone, Clifford's brother, a widower, formerly married to Ellen and Georgina's older sister Josephine

  Young Jo, Henry's daughter, Ellen and Georgina's niece

  Mr. and Mrs. Jerome, Ellen and Georgina's parents

  The Duke of Ellesmere, Thomas Eltham, a Rakehell, lives at Eltham Castle

  The Duchess of Ellesmere, Charlotte Eltham, nee Castlemaine, his wife

  (for their story, see The Missed Match)

  Lawrence Howard, former Rakehell, tea trader just home from India

  Juliet Lyons Dane, Lawrence's wife, Matthew Dane's sister

  (For their story, see Experience)

  Matthew Dane, a Rakehell, Juliet's brother, former business associate of Lawrence's

  Althea Dane, his wife

  (For their story, see Ravished)

  Matilda Barnet, Matthew Dane's former mistress, Lawrence's former fiancée, a breaker of hearts

  Philip Marshall, a Rakehell, works with Alistair Grant, barrister

  Jasmine Marshall, his wife, friends with Isolde and the Duke and Duchess

  (for their story, see The Mistaken Miss)

  Michael Avenel, Rakehell, great war hero, Randall Avenel's eldest brother

  Bryony Avenel, his wife, a Welsh heiress

  (for their story, see The Model Master)

  Randall Avenel, a Rakehell, Earl of Hazelmere, Michael Avenel's younger brother

  Isolde Avenel, his wife

&
nbsp; (for their story, see Innocence and Innocence Afire)

  Jonathan Deveril, a Rakehell, vicar of Brimley and Eltham

  Pamela Deveril, nee Ashton, his wife

  (for their story, see The Miss Matched)

  Sarah Deveril Davenport, Jonathan’s youngest sister

  Alexander Davenport, her husband, a Rakehell

  (for their story, see The Matchless Miss)

  Chapter One

  "No, no, please, let me go!" Ellen cried, twisting her whole body desperately in an effort to escape. The lace at the bodice of her gown shredded, but her assailant only clung on more tightly.

  "No, stop!" she gasped in near-panic as Bridges’s mouth descended upon hers to stifle her desperate cries for help.

  God, this couldn’t be happening to her. Bridges had seemed so decent. She had actually dared to trust him. Now it was happening all over again…

  She prayed she would not black out, for she was certain he would only continue to...

  The quiet voice behind Ellen hit her ears with the force of a gun blast. "Let Miss Jerome go now. Before I break every bone in your body."

  Bridges lifted his slobbering lips from hers, but try as Ellen might she could not break free.

  "Mind your own business, you black bastard. Anyone can see the little whore is hot for me."

  Ellen gasped in outrage. She renewed her struggles and kicked his shins furiously. But her futile efforts didn't seem to dent Bridges in the slightest, though he was not much above five foot nine, and more flab than muscle as she shoved impotently against his chest.

  "She said no and cried for help. What sort of miserable cur would force himself on a woman?" Ash rasped.

  "The kind who knows a slut when he sees one. Especially one with a fortune."

  "Say one more word against the lady and I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the worms. Now let her go."

  He glared and shook her like a terrier with a rat. "Another one of us you’ve been stringing along, you trollop? A nigger no less?" Bridges accused, his face contorted with barely suppressed rage and desire. "Well, you can bloody well have her, then."

  He flung her into Ash’s arms in the most violent and insulting manner possible, as if she were a cast-off piece of rubbish. "Enjoy the clapped-up little tart for all I care. The two of you deserve each other."

  Ash caught Ellen by the elbows before she fell face first onto the ground. He laid her down by a nearby tree trunk quickly before taking three long strides to go after her attacker.

  "No, don’t! He’s a crack shot and has a musket in the coach. He’ll shoot you for sure. He’s not worth it," Ellen gasped, relief, terror and fear warring within her until she was sure she would faint.

  Ash took a last long look at the man fleeing from the scene and shook his head in resignation. "He’s got too much of a head-start on me anyway. But I know who he is. The next time he crosses my path again will be his last."

  "Oh no, no duelling, please!"

  Ash’s lush lips contorted into a grim line. "No, lass, no duelling. But there are a few things I know about him and his family which will make him wish he’d never laid a finger on you."

  She stared wide-eyed at her dark-haired rescuer, but did not dare ask any further details. Bridges was so repellent to her now that the less she knew about him the better.

  As Ellen lay panting on the ground, trying to clutch the shredded edges of her gown over her bare bosom, she began to shiver with delayed shock.

  Ash drew his jacket off from around his shoulders and stretched out his arm full-length to offer it to her. He knew that to touch her would be the worst possible thing he could do at this juncture.

  "Here, Miss Jerome, put it on. Then when you’re feeling better, I shall escort you back to Jerome Manor."

  "T-t-thank you," she managed to get out between her clenched teeth.

  She shivered and clamped one hand over her mouth in an effort to subdue the contents of her roiling stomach. But the bile worked its way through her slender fingers and exploded out onto the ground.

  "Easy, lass, just open your mouth and let it all come out. Don’t try to fight it. It’s only natural to be so upset. Just relax your stomach muscles. It’s all right to be upset, all right to cry. Just let it all out now. Take my hand if it makes you feel better."

  He held out his right hand to her, and she clutched it convulsively with her left, wringing his fingers unmercifully as her body turned itself inside out.

  She noticed vaguely that he squeezed back, in a couple of particular places. But the sensation was not unpleasant; rather it was comforting, soothing.

  Ellen thought she would never stop heaving, but eventually her stomach was completely empty and the spasms subsided.

  She rolled off her hands and knees onto her back once more and lay weakly, pressing the back of her sticky hand to her mouth whilst the other let go of her helper's hand to scrub the perspiration-dampened tendrils of blond hair back from her throbbing temples.

  He had a small water flask with him, and offered it to her now along with his handkerchief. When she made no move to take either, he said, "Here, I’ll pour some of the water over your hand. Then we can dampen the hankie and get you cleaned up. You might also like to rinse your mouth. I really don’t mind. There’s no need to be shy. Do you remember who I am, Miss Jerome?"

  She dared to raise her eyes slightly, the red of mortification flooding her features anew as she did so. For he was assuredly the most incredible-looking man she had ever seen in all her twenty-one years.

  "I’m Eswara’s son, Ashoka. Ash for short. Ash Paignton. Do you remember me? Your cousin Martin's step-son. I'm just back from London. I’ve completed all of my formal training as a doctor and will be working with your other cousin Blake Sanderson as his assistant."

  "Oh yes, of course, Mr. Paignton," she said weakly, relieved she had not jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  She recalled him as rather ill and gangling young man of sixteen, in a wheelchair when they had first met. She closed her eyes and clung onto this picture, for it was easier to think of him in that manner than as the huge, capable, remarkably handsome man who now knelt before her looking at her with such sympathy that she wanted to weep.

  "We’ve not seen each other for some time, Miss Jerome. It’s a wonder you would remember me," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  The truth was it was a wonder she had ever even condescended to acknowledge his existence. The Jerome family was large and clannish. They tended to exclude or ignore many people simply by dint of being so familially devoted.

  "How is your sister Georgina?" he couldn’t resist asking, for never had he met a woman he disliked more.

  Ellen was similar to her in appearance; he hoped she was not similar in personality. Not that she had ever shown much evidence of possessing one that he could ever see.

  "Well, thank you. Better able to manage men, and the world in general, than I seem to be."

  He could see her teetering on the brink of weeping, and decided to deal with her rampaging emotions with practical aplomb.

  He was not intentionally trying to be callous. Indeed, he felt such a welter of emotions, he was not so sure he was not about to be ill himself just thinking about what could have happened to the poor girl had he not chanced to come along.

  He looked around. The weather had been unseasonably warm and bright all day, but dark clouds were now louring overhead, and the wind was picking up.

  "Never mind that now. We need to get you to my house. Mother will give you a thorough examination and something for your injured wrists and cuts and scratches. And we will need to fill out a report for the magistrates as to everything that occurred."

  Her long lashes flew upwards in panic. "Oh no, no, we can’t possibly!" she gasped. "What will people say?"

  He shook his head impatiently. "It doesn’t matter what they say. What matters is the truth. Bridges assaulted you. Tried to force himself on you. He began tearin
g your gown right off your body, for Heaven’s sake. Do you think you’re the only woman he's ever done this to? Or will be the only one? That he will behave himself in the future just because he was caught this once?" he argued, his fury getting the better of him for a brief moment.

  "No, but the police? Just think of the consequences."

  "That kind of man doesn’t change. If anything he gets worse! I pity any poor woman who has the misfortune to marry him."