Sarah Mallory - The Highborn Housekeeper

A disgraced lady

Turned lowly housekeeper

Earl’s daughter Nancy turned her back on the aristocracy when she fled a forced marriage, working instead as a cook and housekeeper. But in nursing an injured man back to health, Nancy uncovers a deep longing for the dangerously attractive Gabriel, and a surprise: he’s working to protect government secrets! She wants to help him. But to do so, Nancy will have to return to the life she once cast aside...

SARAH MALLORYwas born in the West Country and now lives on the beautiful Yorkshire Moors. She has been writing for more than three decades—mainly historical romances set in the Georgian and Regency period. She has won several awards for her writing, including the Romantic Novelists’ Association RoNA Rose Award for The Dangerous Lord Darrington and for Beneath the Major’s Scars .

Also by Sarah Mallory

The Duke’s Secret Heir

Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance

The Infamous Arrandales miniseries

The Chaperon’s Seduction

Temptation of a Governess

Return of the Runaway

The Outcast’s Redemption

Saved From Disgrace miniseries

The Ton’s Most Notorious Rake

Beauty and the Brooding Lord

The Highborn Housekeeper

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Highborn Housekeeper

Sarah Mallory

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08915-9

THE HIGHBORN HOUSEKEEPER

© 2019 Sarah Mallory

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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To my four-legged companion, Willow,

who keeps me company when I write,

and keeps me fit with regular walks!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

The snow started at dusk. Only a few flakes at first, but soon it was falling steadily and coating the icy ground.

Nancy was warm enough, dressed in her riding habit of plum-coloured velvet with its matching curly-brimmed hat and wrapped in a voluminous cloak. Her companion, too, looked snug in a heavy wool redingote and shawl and they both had their feet resting on warm bricks and snuggled into sheepskin, but she felt some sympathy for the servants sitting up on the box.

However, when they stopped to change horses at the Crown in Tuxford and her driver suggested that she might put up there for the night, she was adamant that they should continue. William, who had come to the chaise door to issue his advice, pushed back his hat and stared at her, perplexed. His breath formed small icy clouds as he spoke with all the confidence of an old and trusted retainer.

‘I don’t like it, madam, and that’s a fact. The snow don’t show no signs of easing. We should stop here.’

‘It is but very fine snow,’ she responded. ‘There is nothing much to accumulate and no wind to cause any drifting, so we shall go on.’ She noted his frown and conceded one point. ‘You may order yourselves something hot to drink, if you wish, and have them bring coffee out for Mrs Yelland and me. And perhaps you will ask them to provide fresh hot bricks for our feet.’

‘You won’t step inside, ma’am, just for a few minutes?’ The woman sitting beside her spoke for the first time. ‘We might warm ourselves by a fire.’

‘No, Hester, we will push on.’ Nancy shook her head. It was not only the memories this place conjured for her, she dared not risk being recognised.

Her companion read the determination in Nancy’s face and sighed as she settled herself back into her corner. ‘Very well, ma’am, you know best.’

Nancy heard the disappointment in Hester Yelland’s voice, but would not change her mind. She was unusually tall for a woman and that would attract attention. Someone might recognise her. After all, she had immediately known the landlord as he stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, watching the travelling chaise as it came into the yard. He had been assessing whether it was worth his while to step out into the cold and she was relieved that his experienced eye noted that it was a rather shabby vehicle. Instead he had sent a servant out to speak to William Coachman, who was calling to the ostlers for fresh horses and be quick about it.

The landlord had barely changed in the twelve years since she had last seen him, save to grow a little rounder, and while Nancy felt very different inside , outwardly she knew that with her height and abundance of dark hair she looked much the same as she had done all those years ago, when she had slipped away on the common stage with nothing but a hastily packed portmanteau and the little money she had managed to save. Looking back, it was a wonder she had survived the past dozen years relatively unscathed. But she had survived and with very few regrets.