Lyn Stone - Marrying Mischief

“I shall keep to my own bed after the sham vows are recited, and you shall keep to yours!

“Or anyone else’s bed you fancy, for all I care!”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Nicholas demanded, his eyes angry.

Emily propped her fists on her hips. “Well, if you didn’t understand what I said, my lord, perhaps it is you who needs a governess. Since we are to have a loveless union and it is all for outward show, there will be no consummation of it. Do you understand that, sir, or need I make it plainer still?”

For a long moment fraught with tension, Nicholas said absolutely nothing. “I did promise that you could have whatever you wanted,” he at last said softly. “Whether you believe it or not, I am a man of my word. Just be certain you really want what you demand…!”

Praise for Lyn Stone’s recent books

The Highland Wife

“…laced with lovable characters, witty dialogue, humor and poignancy, this is a tale to savor.”

—Romantic Times

Bride of Trouville

“I could not stop reading this one.…

Don’t miss this winner!”

—Affaire de Coeur

The Knight’s Bride

“Stone has done herself proud with this delightful story…a cast of endearing characters and a fresh, innovative plot.”

—Publishers Weekly

#599 THE LOVE MATCH

Deborah Simmons/Deborah Hale/Nicola Cornick

#600 A MARRIAGE BY CHANCE

Carolyn Davidson

#602 SHADES OF GRAY

Wendy Douglas

Marrying Mischief

Lyn Stone

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Available from Harlequin Historicals and LYN STONE

The Wicked Truth #358

The Arrangement #389

The Wilder Wedding #413

The Knight’s Bride #445

Bride of Trouville #467

One Christmas Night #487

My Lady’s Choice #511

The Highland Wife #551

The Quest #588

Marrying Mischief #601

Other works include:

Silhouette Intimate Moments

Beauty and the Badge #952

Live-In Lover #1055

This book is dedicated to my good friends Julie and Mike Hammersley, and their incredible band, Auburn. You have England on the dance floor. Nashville’s next! Thank you so much for your friendship, encouragement and inspiration.

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

Epilogue

Southern Coast of England—1856

She had only meant to tug the gate open. Yet here she stood with the old broken latch in her hand and the rotten boards of the neglected little portal collapsed at her feet. She peeked inside. Emily Loveyne could scarcely believe that she, the vicar’s own daughter, was breaking into the Bournesea Estate.

With a disgusted sigh, she raked away enough of the overgrown ivy and morning glory vines to squeeze through. Obviously no one had used this as an entrance or exit for years. She had when she was a child accompanying her father on his Sunday afternoon visits when her ladyship still lived.

The small gardener’s gate had been the nearest way in on their approach from their cottage, and had led them directly past the roses, once inside. Her father did love roses. They still enjoyed the beauties grown from cuttings Lady Elizabeth had given them for their own garden. Good thing, too, she noticed. No one had tended the parent bushes for quite some time. What a weedy, overgrown tangle!

These days she supposed everyone went in and out the front or side entrances. Unfortunately, both of those were closed, their decorative wrought-iron gates locked tight as a sailor’s hitch. Staunchly guarded, too, by burly, bearded ogres she did not know. Judging from their attire, they were clearly seamen.

She shook her head in consternation as she rounded the tall hedges flanking the walls and made for the servants’ quarters. That’s surely where her brother would be, not in the manor house itself. She was infinitely glad she wouldn’t have to approach that place. As familiar as she was with it, she had no wish at all to enter there and risk an encounter with the new earl.

How dare he keep Josh on duty here now that the ship had laid anchor. The double-masted brig had been there, well off the coast, for at least two days before she heard of it or she would have come sooner. Why, she wondered, was it not in the harbor?

Her brother was only thirteen and must be homesick after more than six months away. Their father needed to see his only son, and Emily had missed Josh terribly.

No matter how much she had objected at the time, Father had allowed Josh to sign on as cabin boy with Captain Roland for the unhappy voyage all the way to India. They had gone to inform Lord Nicholas of his father’s death and to bring him home to assume his duties.

Lord Nicholas. He had always possessed the honorary title, of course, since he was the earl’s son. Now he had inherited the earldom and, things being as they were, she must remember to call him lord if she ever saw him again.

But, earl or not, the man had no business keeping her little brother under lock and key in this place, and would do that no longer if she had to bring it down around his noble ears. Why the devil were there guards on the gates? They had told her nothing. They had just stood at a goodly distance behind the lacy ironwork and ordered her away.

She lifted her skirts a bit higher, stepped around the puddles standing in the gardens and made for the door to the outer building adjacent to the carriage house.

Other than the guards she had seen, no one was around, she noticed. Today’s village gossip held that the skeleton staff remaining after the old earl died had been ordered away when Nicholas arrived.

No one in the village had seen him yet. Isolating himself this way seemed to be taking his grief a bit too far, considering the animosity between father and son. Must be Nicholas’s guilt working, she reckoned, and was glad of it. He ought to feel guilty, leaving as he had.

She pushed open the door to the half-timbered, two-story building that she knew was home to the male servants in the earl’s employ.

“Anyone here?” she called hesitantly, ducking her head in all the rooms that stood open. Nothing but dusty furnishings. Then she heard voices down the hallway.

Never a shy mouse, Emily quickly headed in that direction. As she did, she passed a chamber with the door ajar and stopped to peek inside. There on the bed lay her brother, sound asleep. Imagine that, in the middle of the day!

He was not even dressed. His sleeveless undershirt revealed his skinny arms and shoulders. So pale, she noted.

“Josh?” she said softly, so as not to startle him awake. When he didn’t answer, she went straight to the bedside and put her hand on his arm, shaking gently. “Darling? Are you ill?”

His eyes flew open. First he appeared overjoyed, but then his expression turned to one of stark horror. “Em, get out of here!”