A Rogue's Surrender: Regency Novellas

by Lauren Smith

  Her sisters believed wealth and status were the paths to a happy life.

  She could not bear to accept that they were right. “How could you?” she mouthed again and received an even more confused look from him.

  Were all men dullards when it came to women? What was so difficult to comprehend? He’d been caught with Heloise.

  Did he expect her to ignore the obvious and proceed on her merry way? First of all, she had just arrived at Abbingdon’s. Second of all, he was the one who was taking his merry leave of them.

  After Lucien, Heloise, and her imposing father had departed, Mallory was left to sip tea and nibble on cake that sat dry in her throat, while her mother and sisters went on and on about the handsome couple and took odds on when their nuptials would take place.

  “He’s a duke and she’s the daughter of a duke,” Alicia said with a shake of her garish, red curls. “They cannot possibly pull off the grandest wedding London has seen in a decade in anything less than a year.”

  Dierdre begged to differ. “Hawthorn needs her dowry now, but Lady Heloise’s father is a sly fox and will not turn it over to him until the ceremony is done and over, and his daughter has the wedding ring on her finger or some such other wedding token to prove it. I say that he will marry her in under three months.”

  Their mother took a sip of her tea and then cleared her throat, as though about to expound on the conversation. Mallory leaned forward impatiently. Her mother was quiet for an irritatingly long moment, and finally spoke. “He will obtain the special license and take her as his wife before the month is out. Mark my words. Before the month is out.” She nodded to emphasize her point.

  Mallory ought to have kept quiet, but she didn’t. “I wager he will never marry her.”

  Which earned her scowls from her sisters and a sharp chastisement from her mother. Were she younger, she would have been sent off to bed without her supper. “The stars belong in the night sky, not in your eyes,” her mother said, repeating the words she often said whenever Mallory took on that moon-eyed expression. “Hawthorn did not offer for Alicia. Nor did he offer for Dierdre. He certainly will not offer for you.”

  “He will.” She tipped her chin up. He has. But she could not let them know. They wouldn’t believe her anyway.

  “Perhaps he will climb up the balcony, a Romeo to your Juliet, and declare his undying love for you.” Dierdre thought herself quite witty and laughed at her own declaration.

  Alicia, surprisingly, was not laughing. “Mallory, I hope he will. But do not count on it. Dreams are wonderful, but they rarely come true. Keep your heart safe. Do not let any man trample it.”

  There was a quiet desolation to Alicia’s words.

  “Oh, Alicia.” Mallory reached over and hugged her fiercely. “I’ll keep it safe. It shall only be given to a man worthy of my love.”

  Alicia kissed her cheek. “Sometimes I think you are smarter than all of us. Just be careful with Hawthorn. He is not in a position to choose freely. Although I believe that if he were, he would be wise to choose you.”

  Her mother held up a gloved hand. “Alicia, do not indulge your sister’s whimsical notions.” And that put an end to the discussion.

  But Mallory was heartened by her sister’s unexpected support.

  Now, all she had to do was convince Lucien.

  But how was she to do it with his estate in ruins and Horrible Heloise clinging to his arm?

  Chapter Nine

  Lucien was not certain why he had decided to attend the theater this evening, only that he’d heard Mallory was to be there with her family and he seemed unable to wait until tomorrow to see her. Whether he would have the chance to speak to her was another matter, for the Goodell’s box was on the opposite side of the theater from his own.

  Perhaps he would do so at intermission.

  Or if he ever came to his senses, he would quietly take his leave once the curtain was drawn and the play began.

  What was wrong with him? When had his head ever been so filled with nonsensical romantic yearnings? He could not recall a single time in all his years of sowing wild oats. But the need to look his fill, to satisfy his baser urges by soaking in the lush curves of Mallory’s body, the sensual tilt of her mouth, the sparkle in her emerald eyes, was simply overwhelming. While his urges were most definitely crude, his sentiment was not. Mallory meant the world to him. If she ever agreed to marry him, theirs would be a love match.

  He’d had his fill of casual affairs and in generally behaving badly. Unless it was to behave badly with Mallory, which did not count since he was determined to marry her.

  “Hawthorn, have you come alone?” his friend, the Earl of Exmoor said, shaking him out of his reverie as he was about to enter his box.

  Ah, yes. He recalled the Exmoor box was next to his.

  “Indeed, quite alone. How are you, Exmoor?” He tried not to stare at the scars now prominent on his friend’s face or the cane he was using out of necessity and not as a fashion prop. Like Roarke, Exmoor had fought against Napoleon and acquitted himself heroically. Unlike Roarke, he had not come out of it unscathed. The pain he attempted to hide was etched on his face and it was obvious that he had not yet healed from his wounds of battle. Would he ever?

  “Doing as well as can be expected.” Exmoor shook his head. “Trying to step back into my old life, but it doesn’t seem to want me back. Fortunately, my Sophie still wants me. Can’t imagine why, but I’m grateful for it.”

  Lucien nodded thoughtfully. “Join me in my box, will you? We shall catch up on all that’s happened these past few years.”

  Exmoor glanced at his own box that was filling with his family, cousins and aunts and his married sister and her husband, all rushing to their seats like cattle on stampede. “I’d be delighted to join you,” he said with a chuckle. “I doubt there will be a chair left for me in my own box.”

  Lucien was relieved that his friend had consented, for he was certain to cause speculation if he’d remained the only occupant of his. The decision to attend alone had been foolish in the extreme and he was grateful for the company. As expected, all eyes turned toward him the moment he entered.

  Exmoor cast him a wry smile. “Ah, the unmarried duke attending the theater on his own. Why is he here, the crowd wonders? But I know the answer. For a woman, of course. The question is, which one? Certainly not Lady Heloise, for she isn’t in attendance tonight, and she’d be with you if she were.” Exmoor turned his chair at an angle so that it allowed him to keep his injured leg outstretched as he settled heavily into it. “So who is the young woman who has caught your fancy?”

  Was he that obvious?

  It distressed Lucien to think so. “No one.”

  But Exmoor had no intention of letting up. He scanned the boxes on the opposite side of the theater and suddenly sucked in a breath. “Her.”

  Lucien followed his friend’s gaze that was now fixed on Mallory who was simply incandescent as she entered the Goodell box and settled herself in one of the front seats. She had on a gown of shimmering lilac satin and a glow in her eyes that lit up the entire hall. “Damn it, Exmoor.”

  “Who is she? No, let me guess. She’s sitting with Viscount Goodell and his wife. They are your country neighbors, are they not? Their older daughters are beside them with their husbands, so this must be their youngest. What’s her name?”

  “Mallory.”

  “You have excellent taste, Hawthorn.”

  “I’m sorry I invited you into my box,” Lucien grumbled, not really put out, but surprised that it had taken Exmoor less than a minute to discern the truth. Although he should not have been so surprised. Exmoor was one of the smartest men he knew, and his years in the army had served to hone his already keen senses.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to know that innocence survives. I’ve seen so little of it these past years.” He absently rubbed his thigh to stem the noticeable twitch to his leg. “I also hear your father left your properties in a miserable state. What
can I do to help?”

  Lucien turned to study him. “Nothing. I’ll work through the pile of problems on my own.”

  “If anyone can, it will be you.” Exmoor nodded. “But you see, I have a fat bank account in search of investments, and rumor has it that you are seeking partners to ease some of your debt burden. Will you consider me?”

  Lucien did not know what to say. He was stunned by his friend’s generosity. “You don’t have to do this, Exmoor. You’re the last person I would wish to bring down along with me. The best Hawthorn properties are heavily loaded with debt.”

  “But will they turn a profit if the debt load is eased?”

  Lucien nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good, then let’s talk at the end of this week, shall we? Set up a meeting with your solicitors and I shall bring mine. Do you have proposals drawn up? Send them to me before the meeting. I’ll review them with my man of affairs.”

  “James,” he said with a groan, referring to Exmoor by his given name, for they’d been the best of friends since their school days and Lucien was humbled by how good and loyal a friend James Brayden, the fifth Earl of Exmoor, had turned out to be. He hoped he would be as good a friend in return. “I should not say this, for you will have me by the throat once you know how vastly relieved I am that you are interested in a partnership. I spent this afternoon with Lady Heloise’s father, the Duke of Digby. He laid me on the rack and stretched me out until he’d pulled all my limbs from their sockets.”

  “What did he want from you?”

  “Besides my bollocks?” He shook his head and smiled wryly. “My best properties. No partnership. He’s acquired the mortgages and now has me by said bollocks. He told me that he will give them over to me - the mortgages, that is - once I marry his daughter. But damn it, James. I cannot do it.” He glanced at his friend, waiting for the spate of questions about his sanity, for only a madman would pass up such an offer.

  But his friend merely grinned like a cat who’d just eaten a canary. “Now, I am more determined than ever to help you.”

  Lucien arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

  Exmoor’s gaze turned clouded and Lucien could see the hurt he was unable to hide. “Let’s just say, this is personal. You have yet to comment on my wounds.”

  “Do they require comment? I’m glad you’ve returned to us in one piece. A little worse for wear, perhaps. But I look forward to resuming our friendship. I missed your wisdom, my friend.”

  Somehow, his words had unintentionally hurt Exmoor, for the haunted shadows in his gaze intensified. “You are one of the few who will have anything to do with me anymore. Suffice it to say that Digby and his daughter do not feel as you do. They gave me the cut direct. Not that I care a whit. I don’t really, but...”

  Lucien leaned closer, eager to continue the conversation even though everyone had taken their seats and the play was about to start. “What is it, James? You know I shall keep whatever you tell me in confidence.”

  “I’m no longer accepted as I once was. The women now look upon me in horror. I’m a scarred beast to them. Most men feel the same way, even some I considered good friends. But the truth must be faced. I am no longer myself, no longer considered handsome. It is quite a blow to my arrogance.”

  Lucien clenched his fists to stem his anger. “They are all witless fools, James. Not worth the heartache, though I can see you have allowed their shallowness to sadden you.” He glanced at Mallory, his gaze naturally drifting to this girl he knew to be of worth. “I wish you happiness.”

  “Lucien, you mistake me. I am happy. I couldn’t ask for a better wife or a finer family.” He glanced over at his overpopulated box. “But my circle of friends remains small, and I still cringe when I must meet people for the first time. Sometimes, the response I receive from a new acquaintance curls my stomach. In truth, I expect it and for the most part don’t care. But there’s a little part of me that still… it does wound my pride.”

  Lucien looked across the theater to Mallory.

  James smiled. “You deserve happiness as well. I wish you someone like Mallory. Will you introduce her to me at intermission? She must be quite remarkable.”

  She is.

  Lucien turned to face the stage as the performance began.

  At intermission, Lucien and his friend made their way to the Goodell box. Lucien was relieved to find Mallory seated there with her mother. The other occupants had descended to the lobby to meet and greet their friends and enjoy a glass of plum wine that was being served for those who did not care for more potent spirits.

  “Your Grace,” Lady Goodell cheerfully intoned as he entered their box with Exmoor in tow. “Ah, Lord Exmoor,” she said with far less glee, making no effort to be discreet about her displeasure. “How nice to see you both.”

  Mallory’s lips were in that I-want-to-have-sex-with-you pout that always drove Lucien wild, but it meant that she was still peeved with him. Obviously, she’d misconstrued the purpose of his meeting with the Duke of Digby and Lady Heloise at Abbingdon’s earlier in the day. However, she smiled graciously at Exmoor and held out her hand so that Exmoor could take it in his and bow over it. “I was hoping to meet you, my lord. You are all the talk of the audience. A war hero, such as Lucien’s own brother.”

  Her smile never slipped, if anything it grew warmer. Lucien did not realize he could love Mallory more deeply than he already did, but in this moment, his heart swelled with pride and he knew he’d chosen the best woman possible to be his wife. Now, all he had to do was convince Mallory of it.

  She was laughing and chatting with Exmoor as though they’d been lifelong friends. If she noticed his scars, it was not apparent in her expression, which was one of delight. “I feel as though I already know you,” she said, her gaze on Exmoor and not a trace of repulsion to be found, “but I am ashamed to say that I have done absolutely nothing of worth or merit in my entire life. You shall probably find me dull in the extreme.”

  Exmoor arched an eyebrow. “Not at all, Lady Mallory. I am certain I shall find you one of the finest ladies of my acquaintance.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I hope to prove you right, but I doubt it will be so.”

  When the bell rang to signal an end to the intermission, Mallory appeared disappointed. Her mother appeared relieved, and then aghast as Mallory blurted. “I do hope you and Lady Exmoor will pay a call on us soon, Lord Exmoor.”

  Lucien grinned at him.

  Exmoor nodded. “I shall make it a priority.”

  They walked back to the Hawthorn box, their progress slow because Exmoor had difficulty going up the few stairs. “Lucien,” his friend said with a hint of amusement, but his tone on the whole was serious, “if you do not marry that gem right away, I shall consider you the biggest fool in London.”

  “I’m working on it.” He groaned. “But right now, that gem wants nothing to do with me.”

  He fully intended to deal with the problem tomorrow.

  The following morning, Mallory was seated at her mother’s desk in the ladies’ parlor, a small but pleasant room off the main hall of their townhouse, gazing out the window onto the garden when Lucien strode in before Parsons had the chance to announce him. She had been struggling to write a letter to Gennalyn, but set aside her quill and parchment, and rose to face him. “I did not expect you today.”

  “I know. I thought it best to simply stop by.”

  “Afraid I would not be home to you if I were given notice?” She glanced at her attire, a gauzy morning dress that covered her from neck to toe, then glanced at him and thought how magnificent he looked in his blue jacket that deepened the blue of his eyes and buff breeches that molded to his muscular thighs. “What time is it? I ought to change into a proper gown if we’re to have company.”

  “Stay. I am not company.” He crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs apart as though poised for battle.

  He looked big and wonderful and she ached to melt into his arms. “Then what are you?”

&n
bsp; His lips quirked upward in the faintest of smiles. “Your future husband.”

  Her eyes widened, and after a long moment of silence between them, she shook her head and sighed. “You were with Lady Heloise yesterday. Do you dare deny it?”

  “No. But in truth, I was with her father. She happened to come along with him.” His arms were still crossed over his broad chest and the sun shone upon his gold hair so that he looked, as usual, like a Greek god. “I had important business to attend to with him.”

  He was no mythical being, but merely a man with an estate in disrepair. “Business? Such as finalizing the betrothal contract?”

  He frowned. “No. Is that what she told you? Is that why you were shooting daggers at me across the tea shop? And why you are still shooting daggers at me now?”

  She turned away to stare out the window onto the garden that had an abundance of roses in bloom. “Will you tell me straight out what dealings you had that concerned the duke and his daughter?”

  “Of course. I mean to keep no secrets from you. That’s why I’m here, Mallory.” His tone was quite gentle now. “Come sit beside me and let me tell you all that has transpired since I came to London.”

  She nodded reluctantly and settled on the sofa beside him, remaining on the edge of her seat with her back straight as though a broomstick had been attached to her spine. “But you were with Lady Heloise. What happened?”

  “Nothing with her. However, her father has bought all the mortgages on the Hawthorn properties. He knows I cannot possibly stay current with all the monthly payments and will foreclose unless I marry his daughter.”

  Mallory tried to remain aloof and disinterested, but her heart skipped beats and she regarded him with concern. “Oh, Lucien. Is there anything to be done? He’s made certain that he owns you.” She began to nibble her lip and her eyes began to water. “When I saw you yesterday at Abbingdon’s with Horrible Heloise, I convinced myself that you were not worthy of my love and resolved to push you out of my life forever. But I do not even have the convictions of my convictions - I hope you understood that - and my resolve completely melted away the moment I saw you at the theater seated beside your friend. I cannot stop loving you, unfortunately. I’ve loved you always and that will never change.”