A Rogue's Surrender: Regency Novellas

by Lauren Smith

  He wanted her, but she wasn’t so naive as to think it would change his decision to marry Heloise. If this was all she would have of him, she’d grab whatever he offered without hesitation or remorse. Until this very moment, she’d been a good girl, having never given serious thought to misbehaving. But the allure of Lucien was too tempting to pass up.

  He would be her adventure, and this moment would be the one she’d dream of all her life.

  She ran her hands up his broad chest and along his muscled shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin beneath his wet shirt and the tension that ran high within him. Unlike most dukes, he engaged in hard, physical work, always eager to toil alongside his tenant farmers and other laborers to rebuild his holdings.

  She glanced up to study his expression, knowing his tension would shadow the planes and angles of his face. Oh, he was so handsome. His hair was perfectly slicked back and framed his strong features. Finely shaped jaw, good cheekbones. Aquiline nose that had just enough character to look sleek and elegant in a manly way.

  He’d just finished putting her back in order, when another bolt of lightning struck directly overhead. Mallory’s ears were still ringing from its deafening release and her heart was a thunderous roar, so she did not immediately hear the ominous groan of cracking wood.

  Lucien grabbed her and drew her up against the wall, at the same time covering her with his big body as the roof caved in atop them.

  Splintered wood showered down on them. She heard Lucien’s muffled grunt of pain as one of splintered rafters struck him on the shoulder and another grazed his forehead, for he was still sheltering her and taking the brunt of the painful blows.

  Merciful heaven! A hair’s breadth closer and that last beam would have struck him squarely on the head, killing him.

  Perhaps it had struck closer than she realized and been more than a mere graze, for he reeled forward. “Mallory, are you hurt?”

  “No. Oh, my God! But you are!” she cried as he collapsed against her, his body suddenly going limp.

  He slid to his knees, obviously struggling not to lose consciousness.

  “Lucien!” When he failed to respond, she knew he had just lost the battle. “Oh, Lucien. No.” She placed her arms around him, but he was too big and muscled to hold up. His legs had buckled out from under him and she hadn’t the strength to keep him upright. The best she could do was break his fall a little. A very little.

  “This is all my fault.” She groaned as he rolled heavily to the ground.

  There was nothing left of the roof that now had a gaping hole through which the rain fell in buckets atop them. It could have been worse, she supposed. The strike of lightning had been a direct hit that would have set the barn on fire had the roof and wooden frame not been too wet to ignite.

  The frightened cows were huddled together and ramming the gates to their pens, attempting to escape the damaged barn. The horses did escape, for some of the rafters had fallen against the wood slats of their stalls and cracked them, leaving an opening large enough to leap through.

  “Lucien!” she cried again, afraid to shake him and do more damage to his body. He lay still and unresponsive atop the wet hay that was strewn across the muddied ground. Her heart tightened, and she felt as though a fist had grabbed that madly beating organ and squeezed it to bursting. “Please, answer me.”

  He moaned, but did not open his eyes.

  He was alive... barely.

  “I’ll run for help.” She gave him a quick but intense kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

  She did not know if he’d heard her.

  And did not know if he’d be alive by the time she returned.

  Lucien winced as he regained consciousness and made the mistake of touching the lump on his forehead. It had swollen to the size of a melon and was madly throbbing. He wasn’t certain how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for Roarke, Gennalyn, and Aidan to be standing over him, looking ashen and wringing their hands. “Mallory? Where’s Mallory? Is she hurt?”

  “He’s awake,” Roarke said, his relief obvious. “She’s fine, Lucien. She’s the one who saved you.”

  He had yet to focus his gaze, and could only make out the fuzzy outline of their three bodies. Mallory was not with them. There was no mistaking her spectacular curves.

  Roarke’s wife, Gennalyn, was a pretty young woman with similar dark hair as Mallory’s and he might have mistaken her for Mallory had her belly not been so obviously swollen with Roarke’s child. “Where is she?”

  Roarke held him down when he strained to lift his head and sit up. “Lie back and rest,” he warned. “You’re fortunate we aren’t holding your funeral today. Mallory will be along soon.” He turned to their youngest brother. “Aidan, bring her here. I’m certain she’ll be relieved to know Lucien is now awake.”

  Aidan nodded. “I’ll be back in a trice.”

  Roarke was not smiling by the time he returned his attention to Lucien. “You had better be careful. Heloise was not happy to learn that you’d almost died protecting Mallory. What were you doing with her on the Goodell property at that ungodly hour of the morning?”

  “It was innocent.”

  Roarke emitted a grunt of disbelief. “That’s what every guilty man says.”

  “Bollocks, whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, of course. Tell me what happened.”

  Lucien took a moment to gather his thoughts, for it felt as though a herd of elephants was stomping on his head. And walking on his chest. His ears were still ringing from the impact of the rafter striking his head. “I went for an early morning ride and was on my way back to Hawthorn Hall when the weather suddenly turned bad. Mallory happened to be sitting by the duck pond and seemed to be unaware of the approaching storm. I couldn’t leave her alone out there to face the impending danger.”

  “Well, hopefully Heloise will believe your hog swill.”

  Gennalyn reached over and placed her hand on his. “She refused to permit Mallory to visit you, but Roarke fixed that the moment we arrived. Mallory’s been by your bedside the last two days.”

  “Hell in a handbasket,” he said in a groaning whisper, realizing he’d been unconscious for days and not mere hours. “Where is Heloise now?”

  “Returned to London with your friends.” Roarke drew a chair closer to his bedside while Gennalyn suddenly made up a chore that needed immediate tending and left the two brothers alone in Lucient’s bedchamber. “I hope you don’t mind. I had to send them packing. They were the most inconsiderate leeches I’ve ever encountered.”

  Lucien attempted to nod, but the pain was too great. “No complaint from me, Roarke. But I’ve made a muddle of things. I doubt Heloise will have me now.”

  “I don’t think you want her either.”

  “No, but I need her.”

  Roarke grunted. “She’s the last thing you need. She’s temperamental and insufferable. She had her claws out whenever Mallory came around, hissing and showing her fangs. She was enraged. Not so much caring that you were hurt, but that you were hurt while protecting Mallory. I assume she had reason for concern.”

  “Mallory’s given her none, but I think... damn, I’ve known the girl all of her life and never once thought about her in that way. But now, I don’t know what’s come over me. I don’t want to be without her.” He took a deep breath and blinked his eyes to clear the fog lurking behind them. “I mean Mallory, of course. What shall I do, Roarke? Heloise is the answer to all of our family troubles. But Mallory... she’s the answer to my happiness.”

  Roarke smiled. “You fell hard for her. Literally fell for her and have the cuts and bruises to show for it. We always thought she’d end up with Aidan. Shows you what we know.”

  But Lucien wasn’t so casual about the impact to the family fortune. “Don’t say anything to her yet, Roarke. Please, I need to think about what I’m going to do.”

  His brother frowned. “I won’t interfere. I know this won’t be an easy decision for you. I wish I c
ould be of more help, but my earldom did not come with a large stream of income. I will give you whatever I can. Aidan will, too. But the farm that I’ve now deeded to him can barely sustain him. It will turn a decent profit in time, but not for another few years.”

  “Time. That’s the one thing I sorely lack.” Lucien grimaced as he finally managed to sit up. “I won’t bring you or Aidan down with me. Hold on to what you have. My biggest concern is having all those loans called in at once. I’ll stall as many of the creditors as possible, but Father saddled the best properties with debt, and these creditors are eager to grab the spoils for themselves.”

  “Once you’re feeling better, we’ll make a list of the most important properties and decide what must be done to save them.”

  “I’ve already done that. No matter how I work it out, I’ll lose most of them. All but the entailed assets.”

  They spoke a while longer about the state of Lucien’s affairs, but the inevitability of his losses only worsened the thrumming ache in his head. “No more, Roarke. I hear voices downstairs.”

  “Ah, that must be Mallory arriving.” He grinned at Lucien and slapped his hands on his thighs as he rose. “We shall continue this discussion another time. Just keep in mind that some things are worth more than a few acres of farmland.”

  Lucien grunted. “If only it were that simple. We’re speaking of vast acres, and shipping interests, and breeding stock, and houses, and–”

  “Enough, I get the point. Just keep in mind that some things are priceless.” Roarke greeted Mallory as she hurried in and then he quietly slipped out when she took the chair by Lucien’s bedside that he had just vacated.

  “You’re finally awake,” Mallory said, her smile filled with warmth and her eyes glowing with relief. “I was so worried about you.”

  Lucien was not pleased that his brother had left them alone, for allowing Mallory into his bedchamber was shocking enough to ruin her reputation if word ever got out. Leaving the door open did not lessen the damage.

  Yet, having her beside him felt so right.

  He wanted to take her in his arms, but his every movement was still too painful, and there were too many servants about who might see them. His staff was loyal, but the desire to gossip was a powerful lure, and that was how many open secrets got about. “You needn’t have worried. It will take more than a falling beam to crack open my thick head.”

  Her smile faded and her eyes began to water. “I promised myself I’d be strong and not show you how scared I was for you. Lucien, my heart tore into pieces when you fell to the ground.”

  He wrapped his fingers about her soft hand, stroking his thumb along the pad of her palm and smiling inwardly when she responded by entwining her fingers in his. “I’m on the mend, Mallory.”

  She nodded and began to nibble her lip. “There’s something I must say to you.”

  He arched an eyebrow, ignoring the little jolt that shot into his temples at the slight movement. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  She nodded again, still nibbling her glorious lip. “I love you, Lucien.”

  It was a simple declaration that now hung upon the charged and thickening air between them, awaiting a response he dared not give yet. To her credit, his silence did not daunt her, and she pressed on. “I just had to let you know, but I don’t want you to do anything about it. When you love someone, you care for their wellbeing above your own, and that’s how I feel about you. So, I want you to do whatever you must to save Hawthorn Hall and all the other endangered properties. I want you to rebuild your dukedom and be proud of all you’ve accomplished. I know how badly your father damaged it and how much it means to you to put it right again.”

  He refused to let go of her hand when she tried to slip it out of his grasp and rise from her chair to leave. She frowned at him, that beautiful, pouty frown that made him want to pull her onto the bed beside him and not let her out of it until he’d thoroughly ravaged her body. “Lucien, let go of my hand.”

  “And let you slip away after what you just said?”

  “Of course. Weren’t you listening? I’m letting you know that–”

  “Damn it to hell,” he said and drew her down atop him. “I’m not letting you walk out of my life. Do you hear me?”

  “How can I not hear you when you’re shouting in my ear?”

  She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he’d meant what he said. He was not about to lose her. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

  She stopped squirming and met his direct gaze. “Yes. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

  “Good. That settles it.” He bent his head, a mistake that had him silently howling in pain, and pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her long and hard, cupping the back of her head in his hand to keep her from pulling away, although she did not appear to be fighting him very hard and less so as he continued to devour her lips.

  Instead, her tension eased and her body softened against his. “Heaven help me,” she said in a sweet, ragged whisper that blew a hole through the last remnants of his control. He wanted this. He wanted her under him, breathless and moaning as they coupled. “I love you so much, Lucien. But what are you doing? We’ll be caught and then you’ll be trapped.”

  “Into marrying you?” He trailed kisses along her throat and along the rampantly beating pulse at the base of her neck before claiming her mouth again with an intensity that came of clarity. Priceless. That’s what she was and he wasn’t about to let her go. “I will marry you. That is the only way I will ever have you in my bed. As my wife.”

  She broke off the kiss and pushed off his chest, leaving him silently howling again as she pressed on his bruised ribs. “What utter nonsense. You just tossed me atop you, and lest you overlook it, you are in bed. So, you’ve just had me in your bed without the promise of matrimony. And that was no tame kiss you gave me. You pillaged and plundered my mouth.” She blushed furiously. “Although I will admit, I liked it. Lots.”

  She cleared her throat. “But that is beside the point. You need to find yourself an heiress. Just not Heloise. She’s awful. I’ve dubbed her Horrid Heloise, because she is just that, and the important thing is to find someone rich who you can tolerate.”

  “Tolerate?” He growled from deep within his throat. “Mallory, I’ve just asked you to marry me.”

  “No, you haven’t. What you said is that you would not have me in your bed unless you married me. That is not at all the same thing. But if you were to properly ask me to become your wife, I would refuse.” She emitted another long, ragged breath and shook her head slowly from side to side. “It would break my heart, but I’d have to do it for your own good. You need an heiress. You don’t need me.”

  She was wrong.

  It was his fault, for he’d made the task of restoring the Hawthorn dukedom his priority, and everyone at Hawthorn Hall, everyone in the surrounding towns and perhaps all of England, knew that his life was devoted to this cause.

  Indeed, it was all he’d talked about for years.

  All he’d talked about for eons.

  He must have been a crushing bore.

  But everything had changed suddenly. Now that he’d found Mallory, he knew that in restoring the Hawthorn holdings to their former glory, he’d lose his most precious possession. Not that Mallory was a mere possession. She wasn’t in the least. She was… she was as important to him as his own heart. “I do need you.” Damn the girl for arguing with him while he was in no condition to do anything about it.

  “Your brain is still scrambled from that bump to your head. You are a duke, a magnificent peacock and I’m a mere game hen.” She pursed her generous lips as she studied him and all he could think of was to have them crushed against his again. “I know what you are thinking, that you could do with less if I were by your side. That you could be happy with me even if you gave up most of your properties. But you wouldn’t be. You have too much pride in the Hawthorn legacy. As time wore on, you’d grow to rese
nt me.”

  “Never.” And if he resembled a peacock, it was only because the bruises covering his body and his skin happened to be a vivid array of purple and blue.

  Her lips began to tremble. “You would, and your resentment would destroy me. So why don’t we just leave it at that? I will always love you.”

  “Mallory, stop.”

  “No, it must be this way.” She shook her head to emphasize her point and a few dark wisps slipped out of their pins and fell becomingly over her ears. He wanted to reach out and tuck them behind her little, curled ears, but he’d reached the end of his endurance. Pain had spread across his body and radiated outward to his limbs. There was now a blacksmith hammering on an anvil within his head. Along with the elephants that were still stomping his brain to powder. The lump on his forehead was swelling and felt as though it was about to explode.

  “I can live with my dreams,” Mallory continued with her chin held high in sacrificial glory and her mouth pursed in that I-want-to-have-sex-with-you pout, “and I shall take comfort in the knowledge that the handsomest duke in all the realm once desired me.”

  “Damn it, Mallory.” He ignored the violent spinning and stomping in his head to reach forward and stop her from leaving, but the next thing he knew, he felt himself tipping over and tumbling out of bed.

  He landed with a heavy thud at Mallory’s feet.

  “Oh, not again,” she said with a gasp and began call out for help from his family. “You stubborn idiot,” was the last he heard from her sweet lips before he passed out cold.

  Chapter Seven

  Mallory stood alongside the back wall of Lucien’s chamber, clutching Gennalyn’s hand as they watched Roarke and Aidan lift their brother onto his bed and deposit him none too gently on the mattress. Well, Lucien was big and muscled, which is why he always made her swoon, but this was not the moment to be swooning.

  He was hurt and unconscious. Lifting someone in that condition was no easy task.