Bronwyn Scott - Breaking the Rake's Rules

RAKES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Sun, sand and sizzling seduction

Notorious rogues Ren Dryden and Kitt Sherard used to cut a swathe through the ton, but they were too wild to be satisfied with London seasons and prim debutantes.

Now they’ve ventured to the sultry Caribbean to seek their fortunes…and women strong enough to tame them!

Ren meets his match in spirited Emma Ward. Relish their seductive battle of wits in

PLAYING THE RAKE’S GAME

Already available

Kitt has never met a woman as unconventional as Bryn Rutherford. Enjoy their scorching chemistry in

BREAKING THE RAKE’S RULES

Available now

And look out for the Mills & Boon ®Historical Undone! eBook CRAVING THE RAKE’S TOUCH Already available

You won’t want to miss this sizzling new series from Bronwyn Scott!

AUTHOR NOTE

I hope you’re enjoying the Rakes of the Caribbean mini-series, featuring my sexy new heroes Ren Dryden and Kitt Sherard. Kitt’s story is set against the riskier side of life in a British colony in the nineteenth century. Not nearly as regulated as life in England, the Caribbean offers plenty of room for adventure and rule-breaking—two things Kitt is very good at. You might have met him first in Ren’s story—PLAYING THE RAKE’S GAME.

I always like to learn a little something when I read, so let me share the historical setting for Kitt’s story. It is an economical one. Up until 1836 English pounds were not allowed for import to the Caribbean, so most debts and purchases were paid for in barter and trade (usually rum or sugar), or with Spanish and Dutch currencies. In June of 1836 a charter was granted to establish a British bank in Barbados. I’ve placed the fictional Rutherford as the envoy charged with carrying out that commission and organising a board of directors. It is true that the bank would have been a joint stock bank, which means it was an investment bank. History shows that the bank in Barbados soon led to the establishment of a network of British banks through the Eastern Caribbean.

Stay tuned at my blog or website for more Bronwyn Scott updates:

www.bronwynswriting.blogspot.comand www.bronwynnscott.com

Breaking the Rake’s Rules

Bronwyn Scott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRONWYN SCOTTis a communications instructor at Pierce College in the United States, and is the proud mother of three wonderful children (one boy and two girls). When she’s not teaching or writing she enjoys playing the piano, travelling—especially to Florence, Italy—and studying history and foreign languages.

Readers can stay in touch on Bronwyn’s website, www.bronwynnscott.com, or at her blog, www.bronwynswriting.blogspot.com—she loves to hear from readers.

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For Flo, my awesome editor, who really massaged this book into excellence and took time to make it a meaningful story with a strong life lesson: you can’t outrun your past, so you might as well embrace it. Thanks to Flo, Kitt Sherard does it in style.

And thanks to my agent, Scott Eagan, at Greyhaus Literary Agency, who also had to put up with all my rewrites. There were lots of fits and starts and you were kind enough, patient enough to argue with me about all of them. It is much appreciated.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The Caribbean —June 1836

‘Protect the rum!’ Kitt Sherard raced forward on the beach to throw himself between the oncoming attackers and the newly unloaded cargo of precious barrels. ‘It’s a trap!’ A pistol flashed in one hand, his knife in the other as the words left his mouth, the cry carrying down the line to be taken up by his men. ‘Protect the rum! Protect the rum!’ He felt his men surge behind him, his first mate, Will Passemore, at his right, digging his bare feet into the sand, ready to take on the thick of the fighting.

Anger fuelled Kitt, pumping through his body over the betrayal. This was supposed to have been a standard trade done in the light of broad day; rum for farming supplies. The afternoon sun beating down on them was proof enough of that, but somewhere, something had gone wrong. There was no time to sort through it at present.

Cries echoed throughout the deserted cove as the first of the attackers emerged from the pack. Kitt took aim at the man’s shoulder and fired, hoping the draw of first blood would cause the bandits to retreat. He meant business when rum was on the line, especially when that rum belonged to a friend, but he never liked to take a life.

The man clutched his arm and fell back, only to be overrun by his fellow outlaws. So much for deterrence. ‘Get ready, this means war,’ Kitt muttered under his breath. ‘These bastards won’t go easily.’

‘We’ll manage them, Captain.’ Beside him, Passemore’s jaw was set with grim determination.

The horde was on them, then. With one roar, Kitt’s men met the mêlée. Kitt threw aside his pistol. This was knife work now. He stabbed wherever he could, quick, sharp jabs to shoulders, thighs, an occasional belly when there was no choice. Sweat ran in his face and he fought the urge to wipe it away with a hand. The bandits were tenacious, Kitt would give them that. At last they began to fall back—the sight of their fallen comrades was persuasion enough that whatever they were being paid wasn’t worth it. ‘Come on, boys, we’ve got them on the run!’ Kitt yelled over the fighting, leading the charge to drive the bandits from the cove.

They fled with relative speed, dragging their wounded with them. Will was ahead of him, firing a pistol into the fleeing rabble. A man went down and Will leapt on him, blade drawn. ‘No!’ Kitt swerved to Will’s side. ‘We need him alive. Get him back to the ship and get him patched up. I want to know who is behind this.’

‘Aye, aye!’ Will said with a relish that made Kitt grin. The younger man reminded him of himself six or so years ago when he’d begun this adventure. Will hefted the man over a shoulder with a grunt. ‘C’mon, you stupid bastard.’

With Will headed back to the bumboats with the wounded man and the bandits scrambling the island hills to protection, Kitt organised the beach. ‘Let’s get the barrels back on board, men! Look lively—we don’t want them thinking about organising a counter-attack.’ Kitt doubted they would. His men had given them quite a drubbing, but he knew from experience one did not take chances in this business.