Sarah Mallory - The Illegitimate Montague

Survival of the fittest is fine, so long as you’re the one on top … but the family that has everything is about to lose it all …

The Montagues have found themselves at the centre of the ton’ s rumour mill, with lords and ladies alike claiming the family is not what it used to be.

The mysterious death of the heir to the Dukedom, and the arrival of an unknown woman claiming he fathered her son, is only the tip of the iceberg in a family where scandal upstairs and downstairs threatens the very foundations of their once powerful and revered dynasty …

August 2012

THE WICKED LORD MONTAGUE– Carole Mortimer

September 2012

THE HOUSEMAID’S SCANDALOUS SECRET– Helen Dickson

October 2012

THE LADY WHO BROKE THE RULES– Marguerite Kaye

November 2012

LADY OF SHAME– Ann Lethbridge

December 2012

THE ILLEGITIMATE MONTAGUE– Sarah Mallory

January 2013

UNBEFITTING A LADY– Bronwyn Scott

February 2013

REDEMPTION OF A FALLEN WOMAN– Joanna Fulford

March 2013

A STRANGER AT CASTONBURY– Amanda McCabe

Duke of Rothermere

Castonbury Park

Adam,

Watching you grow up and become so successful has been my pleasure. You’re a young and determined man, with a very bright future ahead of you. You know I have always been generous to you, as well as your mother, and I urge you always to err on the side of caution when it comes to matters of the heart. Your independence is unquestionable, but during these troubled times for myself and my family I ask you to listen to me.

Adam, speaking from experience, be careful whom you allow to get close to you.

Yours,

Rothermere

SARAH MALLORYwas born in Bristol and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. She left grammar school at sixteen, to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen-name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2005 from Singletitles.com for Dance for a Diamond and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice in November 2006 for Gentlemen in Question.

THE WICKED BARON

MORE THAN A GOVERNESS

WICKED CAPTAIN, WAYWARD WIFE

THE EARL’S RUNAWAY BRIDE

DISGRACE AND DESIRE

TO CATCH A HUSBAND …

SNOWBOUND WITH THE NOTORIOUS RAKE

THE DANGEROUS LORD DARRINGTON

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In memory of the incomparable Penny Jordan.

A friend and an inspiration.

‘Whoa, Bosun.’ Adam ran his hand over the horse’s lathered neck. It was still early spring, but the day had been a warm one. On the evening air he could smell the hedge blossom and wild garlic as he descended to the valley. It was ten years since he had travelled this road and nothing looked different—the high peaks behind him, the stone-walled fields and the uplands were just as he remembered them—but Adam knew that he had changed. He was no longer the angry young man who had ridden away from Castonbury full of rage and hurt pride. He could smile now at the arrogant boy he had once been—if only it was not too late to make amends.

He gazed at the westering sun, gauging how many more hours of daylight were left. ‘We could make Castonbury Park by nightfall,’ he mused, rubbing his chin. ‘But we’ve no guarantee of a warm reception, Bosun, and in truth I don’t deserve one. Safer then to drop anchor in the village, and go on to the Park in the morning.’ He gathered up the reins again. ‘And if my memory serves, there is a ford around the next bend, old fellow. You can cool your heels in the river.’

At that moment the peaceful calm was shattered by a pistol shot. This was followed by shouts and a woman’s voice raised in alarm. He urged Bosun into a canter and rounded the bend to a scene of confusion and mayhem.

A wagon stood this side of the shallow ford and a young woman in an olive-green redingote was trying to prevent two men from throwing the contents into the river, while on the far bank a third man was sitting on the ground, nursing his bloody arm.

With a shout Adam jumped down to join the fray, heading for the man who was grappling with the young woman. Adam grabbed his collar and delivered a well-aimed punch as the fellow turned to face him. He dropped like a stone. A second man was hurling bolts of cloth from the wagon into the water and the woman was already running towards him. With a shriek of fury she hurled herself at his back and he dropped the roll of fabric he was carrying onto the path as he tried to shake her off. Adam shouted.

‘Stand aside!’

The woman jumped clear and Adam launched himself at the man, doubling him with a heavy blow to the body. His assailant grunted, weaved and ducked to avoid the next punch and threw himself at Adam. They wrestled fiercely, toppling into the water. It was only knee-deep and Adam was the first to recover, which gave him the advantage. As his opponent rose up, coughing and spluttering, an uppercut sent him sprawling back into the river, from where he scrabbled away to join his injured companion on the far bank.

Breathing heavily, Adam looked around. His first victim was struggling to get to his feet, hands over his head to protect himself from the woman, who was raining blows upon him with the handle of her horsewhip.

‘Aye, go on, run away!’ she cried, cracking her whip with an expert flick of the wrist as the ruffian splashed across the river to safety. ‘And tell your master that I am not to be frightened away by the likes of you!’

She stood, hands on hips, her chest rising and falling, watching the men until they disappeared from sight.

Adam raked his wet hair back from his face.

‘I had not expected to refresh myself quite so thoroughly,’ he began, a laugh in his voice. ‘I trust you are not hurt?’

‘Not at all.’ She scooped his hat from the ground and held it out to him. ‘You are lucky this was knocked off before you took a ducking. My bonnet was not so fortunate—it is probably at Castonbury bridge by this time.’