For the Love of Lynette

by Jillian Eaton

  When she was a little girl her absolute favorite part of Christmas had been opening presents, but now that she was a fully grown woman of nineteen there was nothing she loved more than Boxing Day, the day after Christmas when every member of the household staff was given a gift to commemorate their hard work and dedicated service. Usually her mother was the one who picked out all of the presents and made certain they were distributed, but this year Annabel had put herself in charge of the task.

  It was something she was very much looking forward to.

  “Christmas is nice, I suppose,” Delilah said hesitantly, causing Annabel to abruptly sit up.

  “Nice?” she repeated, one golden brow lifting. “What do you mean, nice?”

  Delilah drew on her bottom lip. “Well, last Christmas—”

  “Last Christmas we were not sisters,” Annabel interrupted as she guessed the reason behind Delilah’s sudden misgiving. Foolish, she chided herself as she drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them tight. You should really learn to watch your tongue!

  It was a little known secret amidst the ton that the Swan sisters had fallen on incredibly hard times after their parent’s sudden and unexpected passing. Matters certainly hadn’t been helped by the fact that Lynette’s reputation had been ruined by a scandal years before. A scandal caused by none other than Adam Blackbourne, Annabel’s very own brother…and Nathaniel’s identical twin.

  Annabel still did not know exactly what had happened – although she was determined to find out – but when all was said and done Nathaniel saved Lynette (and by turn her two sisters) from financial ruin and Lynette saved Nathaniel from a life without love.

  To see how they acted around each other now one would never guess they’d once been at each other’s throats but that was love for you, Annabel supposed. Having never experienced it herself, she found it a rather strange sort of emotion. One unlike any other, for what else but love could cause you to loathe someone and still want to be with them all at the same time?

  The closest she’d ever come had been with her latest suitor, an earl of something or rather who had been quite handsome to look at but tediously boring to talk to. At great length he’d gone on (and on and on) about his collection of antique buttons, several of which dated back to the Colonial War.

  If he had been capable of a moment’s silence Annabel would have been very content to merely sit and stare at him, but the blasted man had insisted on telling her about each and every button in his four hundred and twenty-seven button collection.

  Four hundred and twenty-seven.

  She still cringed to think of it.

  The earl’s predecessors had not fared much better. Exhaustingly boring, each and every one of them. Not that she could really blame them. After all, how could they be anything but boring when the most exciting thing they’d ever done was graduate from University?

  They were all the same, each and every one. Oh, they may have had different names and different titles, but they’d all been born into wealth, raised as prodigal sons, and set out into the world to find a suitable wife who would be able to carry on their legacy.

  Rather like shopping for just the right pair of shoes, Annabel imagined.

  She wasn’t naïve. She knew she would have to marry someone. Especially since she did want to have a family and a home all her own. But why did that someone have to be a stodgy earl with a button collection or a ponderous viscount with a lisp and a fear of horses?

  She couldn’t marry someone who was afraid of horses. Who else would accompany her on her daily morning rides if not her husband?

  “What are you thinking about?” Delilah said suddenly. Wandering across the bedroom, she picked up a glass ornament Annabel kept on her dresser. It had been a Christmas gift from her brother Adam, and she left it out year round as a reminder that he had once been kind and good instead of a wretched despoiler of innocents.

  “Marriage,” she admitted with a gusty sigh. “I am thinking about marriage.”

  Light reflected off the ornament as Delilah held it up, dark blonde hair sweeping across her cheek as her head canted to one side. “Do you have anyone particular in mind? I saw Lord Cuthridge was here yesterday.”

  The button man.

  “Yes.” Loathe to spread gossip and speak ill of others – even to her closest friend – Annabel chose her words very carefully. “I do not believe we are going to suit, however. We do not seem to have very much in common.”

  “Did he bring his buttons with him again?”

  Annabel blinked. “How did you know about that?”

  With the tiniest of frowns, Delilah set the ornament down. “People are always asking me how I know things. It is quite obvious, is it not? I watch,” she said simply when Annabel shook her head. “And I listen. You can learn a great many things from listening.”

  “You mean you eavesdrop,” Annabel corrected as her frown stretched into a grin.

  “I certainly do not.”

  “Then what would you call listening to someone who does not know you are there?”

  “Oh.” Fair brow creasing, Delilah tapped a finger against her bottom lip, drawing it down to reveal a row of slightly uneven incisors. “I suppose you are technically correct, although I do not go out of my way to hide. Half of the time I am in plain sight! It is hardly my fault if people choose not to see me.”

  “An excellent point.” Annabel stood up, arms lifting high above her head as she stretched out her muscles. “And one I am definitely going to use the next time I am caught eavesdropping.”

  “But people notice you,” Delilah pointed out.

  “Yes.” The corners of Annabel’s mouth tightened. “I suppose they do.” She did not mean to be loud and boisterous, but as the only daughter born into a family of two very large and commanding brothers, it had been the only way she’d been able to get attention when they had been growing up. By the time they’d left to attend Oxford, leaving her behind to play the part of an only child, her clamorous nature had been too ingrained to change.

  Annabel like to think she had become more graceful and refined over the past year or so, but the truth of it was she still had a very large rebellious streak tucked away beneath her demure smile and batting eyelashes. A rebellious streak that cringed at the thought of becoming a dutiful, obedient wife to a man who collected buttons.

  Maybe it was fanciful, but when she married she wanted it to be for love and a passion so searing in its intensity that it stole the very breath from her lungs. She wanted a man who could sweep her off her feet…both literally and figuratively. The men who had come calling thus far had been unable to carry their own coats, let alone a woman full grown! Which was why she wanted a man who knew what it meant to struggle. A man who wasn’t afraid to get a bit of dirt under his fingernails. A man who wasn’t afraid to live…and break a few rules in the process.

  Annabel did love a good rule-breaker.

  Unfortunately, the type of husband she desired couldn’t exactly be found in a ballroom or at a social luncheon. Rogues and rakes may have been dashing in theory, but their presence amidst well-bred young ladies was rather frowned upon by over-protective mothers, Annabel’s included. But she wasn’t discouraged. If her husband-to-be could not come to her, then she was determined to devise a plan that allowed her to go to him.

  She simply needed to figure out who ‘he’ was.

  A quiet knock on the door turned both Annabel and Delilah’s head.

  “Come in,” Annabel called.

  The door opened to reveal a slender brunette already dressed in a pale green morning frock that complimented her warm brown eyes. Lynette Swan – now Lady Lynette Blackbourne – was a striking English beauty with a roses and cream complexion and soft, classic features. One glance at her and it was easy to see why Annabel’s brother had fallen in love at first sight, although he’d never admit as much out loud. Lynette’s sisters shared her attractiveness, albeit in slightly different ways. Delilah, with her tangled blonde hair a
nd large, doe-eyes resembled a lost fairy while Temperance, with her short tresses and bold stare, was more warrior princess than refined lady. Annabel considered herself very fortunate to be able to call all three of them her family, and even though they’d only known each other for a short amount of time she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without Delilah, Lynette, and Temperance in it.

  “Why are you not dressed yet?” A tiny frown flirted with the edges of Lynette’s mouth as she stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind her. “Have you forgotten?”

  “No,” Delilah said immediately before she drew an arm across her chest. “Um…forgotten what, precisely?”

  “That we have caroling practice in Hyde Park.”

  “I did not know that was today!” Delilah’s eyes widened. “Why did you not remind me?”

  “I did,” Lynette said dryly. “Yesterday at breakfast, at dinner, and when I wished you goodnight.”

  Annabel bit back a smile. Her best friend’s penchant for forgetting things was almost as impressive as her ability to eavesdrop. “We will be ready to go,” she promised as she skipped across the room and threw an arm around Delilah’s shoulders. “Won’t we, Delly? All we need to do is get dressed—”

  “I am afraid you will not be going with us,” Lynette said, looking rather sympathetic.

  “Not going with you?” Annabel’s eyebrows darted together in bewilderment. “Why ever not? I have attended every other practice.” Not that it made much of a difference. She’d learned the carols of course – Deck the Halls was her favorite – but there was nothing that could fix her tone deafness. Nevertheless, she’d enjoyed each and every outing and had very much been looking forward to this one. After all, the entire thing had been her idea. Usually caroling was a Christmas tradition typical of the working class; an accepted means for them to receive charity in the form of coin or baked goods. But they were often turned away by those who could help them the most which was why Annabel had decided to put together a small group of like-minded individuals who would be able to carol throughout Grosvenor Square on their behalf.

  It was yet another in a long line of causes that Annabel had created and supported over years. Depending on her mood – and inspiration – she’d varied between raising money for orphans, asking for higher wages for the serving class, and even demanding that all carriage and work horses be given a mandatory day off. Given the fact that she was a young, unmarried woman without much influence her causes never seemed to gain much notice but they were still very important to her.

  “I believe your mother has other plans for you this afternoon,” Lynette said kindly.

  “Other plans? But she never mentioned – no,” Annabel groaned as she threw the back of her hand across her temple. “Not another one.”

  “I am afraid so.” Lynette winced. “Although from what she said Lord Reynard sounds quite nice. He is a viscount and from what I hear is quite an adept fisherman.”

  “He could be a prince for all I care,” said Annabel, “and I still wouldn’t want to meet him. Where does she keep finding them all? I behaved abominably at the last ball. I thought that would be enough to scare them off.”

  “Is that why you threw off your gloves and quoted the part from Romeo and Juliet where they kill themselves in the middle of the ballroom with everyone watching?” Delilah wondered out loud.

  “Yes, although little good it did me,” Annabel said darkly.

  The corners of her mouth twitching with suppressed laughter, Lynette shook her head. “I am sorry, darling. Truly I am. But on the bright side, maybe this one will be different from the rest. Come along now, Delilah. You need to get dressed and fix your hair.”

  “And maybe pigs will start flying in the dining room,” Annabel muttered, bitterness creeping into her tone and shoulders slumping in resignation as Delilah brushed past. Her friend turned at the door.

  “It will not be the same without you,” she vowed.

  “Make sure Temperance keeps the Waverly cousins in line.” Notoriously flirtatious, Joanne Waverly and her cousin Winnifred had the attention span of two gnats. One moment they were singing beautifully, and the next their heads were turned by a handsome man riding past in a carriage. It was really quite annoying.

  Delilah nodded solemnly. “I shall.”

  “And watch the sopranos. They were a bit off-key on ‘Here We Come a-Wassailing’ last time.

  And–”

  “We will make sure everything goes perfectly,” Lynette interrupted. “You have our word.”

  Annabel bit her lip. “Very well. I’ll be here if you need me. Slowly dying of boredom,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I heard that,” Lynette said mildly as she opened the door and ushered Delilah into the hallway. A gust of cold air flew in, brushing Annabel’s hair away from her temple. Grasping a long tendril, she rubbed it agitatedly between her thumb and pointer finger, snarling the delicate strands.

  “I meant for you to,” she shot back. Her sister-in-law sighed.

  “Do try to give Lord Reynard a chance, Annabel. You know how happy it would make your mother if you were to find a suitable husband.”

  “Yes,” Annabel said softly as she watched Lynette and Delilah leave without her. “But how happy would it make me?”

  TAMING TEMPERANCE

  Hugh Jacobson has dark secrets. Secrets he has brought with him all the way across the Atlantic to protect. Ready to start a new life in a new country, he knows the last thing he should be doing is trading insults with a sharp-tongued debutante, no matter how attractive he finds her. And yet after a chance encounter with one Miss Temperance Swan that is precisely what Hugh finds himself doing.

  All three of the Swan sisters are strong-willed, but none more so than Temperance. Beautiful and brash, she has never met a man she could not twist around her little finger…until she meets Hugh. Completely immune to her considerable charms, the American is also rough, surly, and disagreeable. In short, he is everything Temperance doesn’t want…and everything she secretly desires.

  Unable to deny their passion for one another, Temperance and Hugh are soon entangled in a secret affair that puts everything they hold dear at risk. Including their love…and their lives.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Where did you get that?” Staring at the rectangular piece of glass dangling from her friend’s hand, Temperance Swan felt her entire body go cold all the way from the tips of her toes to the tip of her nose. She shivered, drawing her cloak more firmly around her shoulders despite the warm autumn sun beating down on the nape of her neck. “And who sold it to you?” she added, even though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.

  Surrounded by men, women, and children all celebrating the end of harvest season with a village festival, Temperance should have been thinking about hair ribbons and hand carved ornaments and bread pudding. But instead of meaningless trinkets she could now afford to purchase courtesy of her sister Lynette’s recent marriage to a wealthy viscount, her thoughts were fixated on a man she had met in London. A man who had possessed a rectangular piece of glass exactly like the one Lady Annabel Blackbourne was now holding.

  He had called it a look-behind, she recalled with the faintest of frowns. And she’d mocked him for it, even though it really was an ingenious invention.

  When attached to the front of a carriage or other wheeled conveyance, the mirror allowed the driver to see behind them. It was a simple contraption. Unique as well, which was why she needed to know precisely where Annabel had gotten her hands on one.

  Tall and lovely with hair the color of finely spun gold and eyes that matched the rolling countryside, Annabel’s pale beauty was a stark contrast to Temperance’s dark allure. Like her sisters Lynette and Delilah, Temperance had been blessed with porcelain skin, a thick tumble of tawny hair, and vivid brown eyes that were currently flashing with annoyance as she awaited Annabel’s reply.

  The odds of Hugh Jacobson being in the tiny country villa
ge of Farmingdale were so astronomical they were not even worth considering.

  But on the slight chance he was here…

  No.

  Her mind scampered away from the appalling idea like a rabbit fleeing from the hungry jaws of a fox. Hugh was not here. He could not be here. And even if he was, she did not want to see him! Or so said her mind. Her body, on the other hand, had different ideas.

  Traitor, she thought with a disdainful glare down at her stomach as it filled with butterflies, their colorful wings anxiously stirring to life beneath the confining fabric of her chemise.

  She could not recall the last time a man had elicited such a response. And therein laid the problem. A few years ago Temperance could have allowed herself to be intrigued by the notion of a surly American, but she was no longer a flirtatious debutante without a care in the world. She had responsibilities now. Responsibilities that had come far too soon courtesy of an old scandal…and her parent’s untimely death.

  Lynette had done her best to shield her younger sisters from the harsh sting of such an unprecedented loss and the financial ruin that had quickly followed, but Temperance had always been far too perceptive for her own good.

  Not to mention nosy.

  She had seen the bank notes and the hastily scrawled letters from the debt collector’s on their father’s desk. And she had watched with both eyes wide open and her tongue tucked firmly between her teeth as their worldly possessions were sold off piece by piece.

  The past twelve months had been especially hard. Even sweet, dreamy Delilah had begun to wither beneath the strain of shouldering far too large a burden. Which was why, Temperance suspected, Lynette had agreed to marry a man who was little more than a stranger. A man she had since fallen in love with even though she did not really like him all that much.