Louise Allen - The Unexpected Marriage Of Gabriel Stone

Bachelors for life!

Friends since school, brothers in arms, bachelors for life!

At least that’s what The Four Disgraces— Alex Tempest, Grant Rivers, Cris de Feaux and Gabriel Stone—believe. But when they meet four feisty women who are more than a match for their wild ways these Lords are tempted to renounce bachelordom for good.

Don’t miss this dazzling new quartet by

His Housekeeper’s Christmas Wish His Christmas Countess The Many Sins of Cris de Feaux The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone

All available now!

Gabriel Stone, Earl of Edenbridge, is the fourth of the Lords of Disgrace, whose stories I have been chronicling. Gabriel always was the wildest of the friends, but at first I had no idea what lay behind the dangerous rake’s façade. His story, I discovered, was far darker than I had ever imagined, but neither his past nor his present hedonistic lifestyle prevent him becoming entangled in the affairs of Lady Caroline Holm.

Innocent Caroline will do anything to save her young brother’s future—even bearding a dangerous rake in his lair. Gabriel discovers, to his horror—and to the amusement of his friends—that he’ll do whatever it takes to rescue Lady Caroline from the dangers she faces, even if that involves masquerading as a Welsh hermit. As I explored, I found that Caroline, innocent or not, was more than a match for her reluctant rescuer… even when his past and the long arm of the law catch up with him!

I hope you enjoy reading Caroline and Gabriel’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LOUISE ALLENloves immersing herself in history. She finds landscapes and places evoke the past powerfully. Venice, Burgundy and the Greek islands are favourite destinations. Louise lives on the Norfolk coast and spends her spare time gardening, researching family history or travelling in search of inspiration. Visit her at louiseallenregency.co.uk, @LouiseRegencyand janeaustenslondon.com.

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For the Quayistas—and the lovely staff at Hartland Quay Hotel.

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

London—June 1st, 1820

‘There is a young lady to see you, my lord.’

Gabriel Stone, Earl of Edenbridge, swung his feet down from the fender and sat up in his saggingly comfortable armchair to fix his butler with a quizzical look.

‘Losing your touch, Hampshire? Young ladies do not come calling on me, not even with a bodyguard of chaperons.’

‘Quite so, my lord. However, this is indubitably an unaccompanied lady and a young one at that.’

‘Does this mythical creature have a name?’

‘Lady Caroline Holm, my lord.’

‘Holm?’ That rang a bell. A very faint and slightly muzzy chime, given that Gabriel had been playing cards and drinking brandy into the small hours at a cosy hell in St Christopher’s Place. He glanced at the clock and found it was now eleven o’clock in the morning. He really must summon up the energy to go to bed.

It had been a profitable night and the crackle of promissory notes in his pocket told him so as he lounged to his feet and stretched all six foot two inches of weary body. Profitable to the tune of several hundred pounds, a very nice signet ring and the deeds to a small estate in Hertfordshire.

The estate... ‘Ah, I have it, Hampshire. I presume Lady Caroline is the daughter of Lord Knighton.’

‘The eccentric earl, my lord?’

‘A euphemistic description, Hampshire, but it will serve. The man appears to suffer from occasional bouts of gambling fever and is notoriously obsessional about improving his estate in the intervals between his binges. Of his other peculiarities I have no personal experience, I am thankful to say.’

Gabriel turned to look in the over-mantel mirror and was confronted by a vision of unshaven, rumpled dissipation, guaranteed to send any gently born lady fleeing screaming from the house into Mount Street. That would be an excellent outcome, although possibly without the screaming. He had some consideration for his neighbours. ‘Where have you put her?’

‘The drawing room, my lord. Should I bring refreshments?’

‘I doubt she’ll stay long enough. Have my bathwater sent up, will you?’

Gabriel sauntered out of his study towards the drawing room, the details of the night before gradually becoming clearer. Knighton was the man who had lost the Hertfordshire deeds to him as a result of one ill-judged hand after another. He hadn’t appeared particularly concerned at the time, certainly not to the extent of sending his innocent and respectable daughter to the home of one of London’s most notorious rakes and gamesters to buy back the stake.

The innocent lady in question was standing before the unlit grate and turned at the sound of the door opening. Gabriel had time to admire a slim, unfashionably tall figure in a blue walking dress before she threw back her veil. The move revealed a chip-straw bonnet over neatly dressed blonde hair, a pair of admirable blue eyes a shade darker than her gown, a severely straight nose and, to balance it, a mouth erring on the side of lush.

Not a beauty, not with that determined set to the chin, but striking. Tempting. ‘Lady Caroline? I am Edenbridge. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

She dropped a hint of a curtsy, nicely judged to reflect both his rank and his dishevelled state. ‘You played cards with my father last night.’ Her voice was normally warm and mellow, Gabriel suspected. She sounded anything but, just at the moment.

‘I did. To save time, yes, I won the deeds to an estate in Hertfordshire from him in the process.’

‘I know. I overheard Papa telling my elder brother about it this morning.’

‘You have not come to tell me that it is your dowry, I hope?’

‘It is not.’ She took a few steps away from him, turned and marched back, chin up, apparently using the few seconds to marshal her words. ‘It belongs to my younger brother, Anthony.’

‘I regret to disagree, it now belongs to me. It is an unentailed estate, I gather, one that may be legally disposed of.’

‘Legally, yes, morally, no.’

‘Lady Caroline, I have very little time for morals.’

‘So I understand, my lord.’ A sensitive man would have flinched at her tone. ‘My father is...’