Legacy Redeemed (Redeemed, Restored, Reclaimed Book 1)

by Aubrey Grayson

  Legacy Redeemed

  Aubrey Grayson

  Contents

  Front Matter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

  Author Bio

  Legacy Redeemed

  Susannah Blackmon is desperate when she learns her fiancé jilted her and her dowry is gone. Her guardian devises a nefarious scheme to ensnare Susannah in an unsavory life, and she knows she must flee. But to where? When she meets a mysterious stranger at a masquerade ball, he inadvertently directs her to his family’s vicar, and she heads to the seacoast to escape the worst.

  But drat it all—her mystery counselor invades her newfound space, and she risks exposure. Will she ever redeem the life her parents had hoped for her?

  Nick Daventry is a widower, with a young son, whose family is encouraging him to remarry. But Nick never expects to find love again. When he discovers his inheritance is in jeopardy thanks to a crazy provision in his grandfather’s will, he puts everything he has into saving it. He returns to his coastal home, only to encounter a deceiver in the form of a devilishly beautiful woman he’d traveled all the way from London to escape. But is she the key to redeeming what is lost?

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  Copyright © 2016 by Amanda K Greene

  Cover Art © 2016 by Jenny Quinn

  Published by Amanda K Greene

  Kindle Direct Publishing Edition

  Unless noted, scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Chapter 1

  The air was warm, the moon bright, and if Susannah Blackmon turned her head precisely the right way, she could catch the fragrance of summer flowers weaving in and out of London’s usual stench. Evidence, of course, of the elegant address of the townhouse before her. It was a lovely night for a ball. And apparently, most of London’s society agreed, as costumed men and women turned out in droves for the Weston masquerade. She’d been waiting half an hour for the hack she’d hired to get near enough for her to actually depart it.

  Finally, the carriage ahead rolled away, and her hack replaced it. She almost lost her courage, and raised her hand to pound on the roof to signal the driver to keep moving. No one would miss her. She hadn’t been invited, after all. But when she thought of her other options, she tightened the domino around her eyes. She had to face him if she wanted any chance at a normal life, the life her parents had hoped for her. Desperate times, and all that.

  She rolled back her shoulders and lifted her head. Her mother had taught her to act like a lady, even if none of these people saw her that way. When the carriage rolled to a stop and a footman opened the door, she looked every bit the costumed debutante invited to the Earl of Weston’s summer masquerade. And if the footman noticed her decided lack of chaperone, well, he was too well trained to mention it.

  Susannah stepped onto the drive and took in the full measure of the mansion sprawling before her. She might have been the great-granddaughter of a duke, but this was nevertheless the largest home she’d ever seen. A short flight of marble steps rose up between giant pillars at least two stories high. Above those, her eyes caught another four rows of windows. Not even counting the rows of windows in the roof that most likely corresponded to the nursery and servants’ quarters.

  She brought her attention back to the first few floors. A wave of laughter swept out the door, and she realized anew how many people were here tonight. Her courage nearly fled again, and she half turned to seek out her hack, but she had waited too long. Her hack was gone, and a new group of revelers stepped down from another vehicle and sailed up the path, catching her up in their wake. She had no choice but to move forward with them, and before she knew it, she was being shown to a ballroom of the same awe-inspiring magnitude of the front of the home.

  Courage or no, this was her last chance to make a life for herself and to honor her parents’ memory.

  ***

  There was nothing that Nicholas Daventry detested more than a masquerade ball. Regular balls were bad enough, but add costumes to the general vapidity of the ton and it was enough to make one’s stomach turn. Not to mention the fact that the rules that kept society at least somewhat polite were completely discarded at a masquerade. Everyone going around pretending to be someone else, not bothering with introductions and the like, so as not to spoil the surprise when they revealed themselves at the end of the night. A mere excuse for bad behavior, since most of these people had known each other for years and it was unlikely that a simple costume, with only a domino to cover their eyes, would keep them from recognizing one another.

  Normally, his sister-in-law was quite a reasonable woman, for whom he had the deepest regard. He had no idea what had come over her to think that hosting this atrocity of a ball was a good idea, and he had even less idea what had come over him to allow himself to be persuaded by her to attend. He’d refused a costume of course, though he had accepted the plain black domino Alice had handed him when he’d arrived earlier. He reached up and adjusted it now, restoring his peripheral vision on the right side, grateful that she hadn’t tried to force a full face mask upon him.

  His distaste for the ball notwithstanding, Nick had to credit Alice’s handiwork. Weston House was at its best tonight. Chandeliers sparkled in their full glory, and the floor of the ballroom reflected their light. Gauzy draperies covered the large French windows that led out to the terrace. Even the loathsome partygoers were resplendent in their costumes.

  Unfortunately, even so, the guests were still, on the whole, rather unpleasant. He’d gotten stuck speaking with Adelaide Trout for nearly half an hour. When she’d first found him, he’d asked her to dance, hoping that would be all she required, but she’d stayed to chat for what seemed like an eternity. She’d been wearing a ridiculous shepherdess costume and was using the crook to point out various members of the ton as she listed their many sins. Ten minutes in, he’d developed a headache from clenching his teeth in an effort to keep from commenting on her behavior. He’d nearly dropped to his knees in thanks when her aunt Dorothea, Lady Haverton, had blessedly required Adelaide’s accompaniment to the ladies’ retiring room.

  He now headed to the refreshments table, hoping to give evidence to the world that he was not to be engaged in dancing. Alas, he had only just chosen a sandwich when he noticed his aunt Minerva sailing toward him, the crowds parting before her like the Red Sea parted for Moses, a tiny, fresh-faced debutante in tow. He closed his eyes briefly, wishing he was in a dream, and then did what any self-respecting gentleman of the ton would do in this circumstance. He made a run for it.

  He knew it was childish. But after his conversation with Miss Trout, he wasn’t ready to face whatever fresh torture Aunt Minerva had planned for him. If his aunt was bringing this c
hit to him, then two things were certain. First, she considered the girl a fabulous match for him, and second, there was no way there was a single original thought in the poor girl's head. His mind strayed for a minute to Mary, his brilliant, sweet, good Mary, but he pushed them away. He knew his family’s wish for him to remarry came from love for him. But how could they hope that a silly debutante could ever replace his wife? How could he hope to find love like hers again?

  He was almost to the front of the ballroom, but his aunt was gaining on him. He eyed the doorway. A large group of guests wandered through, blocking any hope of exit. The closest to him was a young woman dressed in the costume of a Roman goddess. Or maybe slave girl. He wasn’t sure, but certainly it was Roman. And she was looking around the room a bit awkwardly, as though perhaps she'd gotten separated from her friends. Not a soul around to suggest that he should consider marrying her. She was perfect.

  He stepped to her and took full advantage of the relaxed rules of a masquerade ball. Without even the hint of an introduction, he said, “Will you please do me the honor of dancing with me?” He did his best to mask his desperation. Please say yes. Please say yes.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed slightly and darted around the room as if looking for someone. She looked back at Nick and then nodded briefly, as though she had wrestled with a more difficult question than he’d posed.

  She smiled. “Of course. It is I who would be honored.”

  And he swept her into his arms, dancing her away just as his aunt emerged through the crowds. He’d never been more thankful for a waltz, or for that matter, for masquerade balls.

  Chapter 2

  Susannah had never been more thankful for an invitation to waltz. She’d assumed Julian would be easy enough to find, but as soon as she’d stepped into the ballroom, she’d realized her error. The crush of people, and all in costume, made finding a particular person as easy as finding an imperfect stitch in her sister Eleanor’s embroidery sampler. She’d need to do some serious searching.

  So she gladly accepted the hand of the handsome gentleman who accosted her mere moments after she’d entered, though it had been far too long since she’d waltzed at all. And never at a ball. Still, she was thankful her mother had forced her and her sisters to learn, and even more thankful for this gentleman’s skill, which compensated more than once for her lack of practice.

  She smiled up at him. She might have just been using this dance as an excuse to look for Julian, but there was no reason she couldn't be polite. “You are an excellent dancer, milord. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m a little out of practice.”

  Oh, was that Julian’s hair she’d just spotted on that last turn?

  Her partner’s gaze followed hers for a second before he smiled and replied. “I’m not a lord, and I’m sure I haven’t noticed.” Then the smile disappeared, replaced by a kind concern. “Are you looking for someone in particular? May I escort you back to your friends?”

  Of course she couldn’t say Oh, yes, I’m looking for Mr. Julian Weatherly, the heir to the Marquis of Swindon. He’s recently jilted me, and I’m here to win him back. So she smiled again and said “Oh, no, I’m certain they'll turn up.”

  The last strains of the waltz played, and they came to a stop. “We planned to meet at the refreshments table. I’ll just go there,” Susannah said.

  But her dance partner was too polite. “I’ll take you to it.”

  “Oh! No, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve been too kind already. When I first walked in, I had no idea where to find it, but while we were dancing, I saw it. I’ll have no trouble on my own.” She beamed up at him.

  He started to protest, so she quickly dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you ever so much for the dance.” She continued beaming and walked away toward the refreshments table. A few steps later, she peeked over her shoulder. He wasn’t following, but he was still watching. She gave what she hoped was a confident wave before ducking between two large groups of revelers.

  She had spotted Julian during the waltz. His precise shade of blond hair was rare among the ton, though not completely unique. But what made him instantly recognizable was his attire. His Roman costume matched hers. The information that her maid, Amy, had retrieved from Julian’s servants had been correct. Her heartbeat sped up. Perhaps it was a sign he would hear her plea.

  Julian stood in the midst of a group of costumed persons, consisting of a pirate, Queen Elizabeth, William Shakespeare, and what appeared to be a shepherdess. Susannah bit her bottom lip nervously. The shepherdess made her excuses and left the group, and Shakespeare and the Virgin Queen joined the dancers. That left Julian and the pirate. Susannah had best make her move now. Fewer people to witness her humiliation. Or success, she reassured herself. She might succeed.

  She approached the group, plastering a winning smile on her face, and calling on her years of experience performing in all the plays her sister Eleanor had written in their youth. Susannah might be terrified, but she could certainly pretend otherwise. She made an elegant sweep of her arm before curtsying before Julian.

  “My lord Caesar. How grateful I am to have found you. I have had no one to whom to feed grapes these many hours.”

  Julian turned toward her, a surprised expression on his face. She saw recognition light his eyes, but he quickly schooled his features into slight confusion. Both men simply stared at her for a moment. She smiled.

  The pirate eyed her speculatively, then narrowed his eyes toward Julian. “Yes, the emperor here was not long ago telling me that he’d had a long abstinence from grapes. But tell me, Caesar, does not your empress have hair of gold? This one seems to know you, but her hair is much darker.”

  “Yes, you are right. This empress does not belong to me. Perhaps you are mistaken, miss?” His expression was one of boredom, as though he truly were being bothered by a stranger on the street.

  Susannah almost gaped at his lack of interest in speaking with her, but she shook it off. She steeled herself for another round. “But I’m certain it was you. I’ve been searching for ages and have found no other Caesar.” There, she had professed her love, as it were, however cryptically. Perhaps he would take her meaning and break away from his friend.

  Her effort was rewarded. He looked to his pirate friend and rolled his eyes heavenward, as though she were the most tiresome creature on the planet. But then he addressed her. “Fair lady, I am certain that you are mistaken. However, I will endeavor to help you find your true match.” Then to his pirate friend, “Peabody, I’m sure I’ll see you later in the card room.” He nodded and offered Susannah his arm.

  She took it, trying to maintain an elegant, calm expression, though her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Her plan was working. She might have a chance! He would speak with her alone, and she could tell him how her rogue of a guardian, Hector Dunmore, had misused them both. Julian was a kind man. He would help her when he knew of her troubles.

  Julian wove his way through the crowd. A few times, she almost had to run to keep up, but she was so anxious to speak with him she barely noticed. He had told her he loved her less than a week before. They had shared…intimacies. This was her chance to remind him of that and her chance to save her future.

  They emerged from the ballroom and into a hallway. He led her down the corridor and around a corner. A few steps into the darkness, he slowed and turned to face her. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation, and she quickly ran over the critical points of the speech she had prepared.

  But she never got the chance to utter a word. He leaned in close to her and hissed, “You stupid chit! Do you know who that was?” He grabbed her arms hard. “That was the brother of my intended. Do you know how foolish you just made me look?” He shook her. “I swear by all that is holy that if you just ruined my chances, I will make you pay. I will ensure that your name is ruined among even the worst of society. That you will never find another protector.” He shook her one more time, then released her. His breath came in angry heave
s as he glared at her. When she didn’t speak, he shook his head, disgust rewriting the lines of his usually handsome features.

  Shock paralyzed her. This time she really did gape, both at the venom in his voice and the meaning of his words. He had already known of Hector’s plans for her. And he hadn’t saved her. Finally she stammered a weak protest. “Protector? You weren’t my protector. You were my betrothed.”

  He slowed his breath, straightened, and regained his composure, readjusting his mask. Moonlight filtered through a nearby window, and she could see that disdain filled his features. “We were never betrothed, Susannah. I’m the son of a marquis. Did you truly think I would condescend to marry the daughter of a country vicar? Even if your reputation hadn’t already been ruined by that devil guardian of yours. And your mother may have started life as a lady, but she gave that up when she married beneath her.”

  His eyes raked over her, sending a chill down her spine before he added, “You can be sure I won’t make that mistake.”

  “B-but my dowry. You needed it,” Susannah stammered.

  A grim smile curved his face. “Ah, is that what he told you to make you believe his ruse? No, my dear, my pockets are flush. It was his that needed filling.”

  She didn’t understand him. But she knew she was failing. She had hoped to avoid appealing to his honor, but she had no choice now.

  “But you told me you loved me. I am ruined. If you don’t marry me, you’ll leave me with nothing.”

  “Susannah, I got what Hector owed me. But you were dashed slow in producing. I said what I had to say to speed it up. Everyone always goes on about it. How was I to know that seducing a virgin would be so boring?”

  The room spun, and his words hit her in the gut. A wave of nausea rose up as she tried to process what he said. Was her judgment this poor then, that she had thought to marry a man who intentionally set out to ruin an innocent woman? And what did he mean about Hector owing him? She knew Hector was despicable. He was the last man on earth who should have been made guardian of three young women. So whatever it was, she didn’t put it past him.