Louise Allen - Surrender To The Marquess

A battle of wills!

When Lady Sara Herriard’s husband dies in a duel, she turns her back on the vagaries of the ton. From now on, she will live as she pleases. She won’t change for anyone—certainly not for the infuriating Lucian Avery, Marquess of Cannock!

Lucian must help his sister recover from a disastrous elopement and reluctantly enlists Lady Sara’s help. She couldn’t be further from the conventional, obedient wife he’s expected to marry, but soon all he craves is for her to surrender—and join him in his bed!

‘Ladies need protection.’ Lucian stalked over to the balustrade.

Shaking the provoking creature would not be a good illustration of his case—kissing her would be even worse.

‘How did you get here this evening, for example? These streets and lanes are dark—anyone could be lurking.’

‘By sedan chair, with the same two reliable, burly chairmen I always use. They will come and collect me later. And should desperate footpads leap out and manage to fell both of them I can defend myself.’

‘How? With sharp words?’ he demanded, and took two strides to stand in front of her, his hands either side, pinning her back against the balustrade. ‘Men are stronger, more vicious, than you could imagine.’

‘Also more vulnerable,’ she murmured. ‘Look down, my lord. It is not only my words that have an edge.’

He did—just as he felt pressure against the falls of his evening breeches. In the moonlight something glinted: sharp steel, held rocksteady in her hand.

Lucian stood quite still. ‘Where did that come from?’

Author Note

Some time ago I wrote Forbidden Jewel of India , a story I was passionate about, set entirely in India in the 1780s—a time when the East India Company ruled in uneasy alliance with the Princes and Rajas. Anusha was half-Indian; her lover, Nicholas Herriard, an English officer and heir to a marquess. When it was time for him to take up his title and return to England in 1816 I had all the fun of discovering how he and Anusha and their son and daughter adapted to English life.

I told Ashe Herriard’s story in Tarnished Amongst the Ton , but I had no inkling of what might happen to Sara, his sister—until now. So here she is, very much her mother’s daughter and determined to be her own woman—despite what the men in her life think and certainly despite what Lucian Avery, Marquess of Cannock, believes is best for her.

I hope you enjoy following Sara’s stormy path to true love as much as I enjoyed discovering it.

Surrender to the Marquess

Louise Allen

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.

Books by Louise Allen

Mills & Boon Historical Romance

The Herriard Family

Forbidden Jewel of India

Tarnished Amongst the Ton

Surrender to the Marquess

Lords of Disgrace

His Housekeeper’s Christmas Wish

His Christmas Countess

The Many Sins of Cris de Feaux

The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone

Brides of Waterloo

A Rose for Major Flint

Danger & Desire

Ravished by the Rake

Seduced by the Scoundrel

Married to a Stranger

Silk & Scandal

The Lord and the Wayward Lady

The Officer and the Proper Lady

Mills & Boon Historical Undone! ebooks

Disrobed and Dishonored

Auctioned Virgin to Seduced Bride

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.ukfor more titles.

To Lorna Chapman

for encouraging me to tell Sara’s story. Thank you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

September 1818—Sandbay, Dorset

It was an elegant shop front with its sea-green paintwork, touches of gilding and sparkling clean windows. Aphrodite’s Seashell. A risqué choice of name, Lucian thought, considering that Aphrodite was the Greek goddess of love, born from the sea foam when Cronus cut off Uranus’s male parts and threw them into the ocean. Otherwise it looked feminine and mildly frivolous as befitted its function and location. Not a place he would normally set foot in unless absolutely desperate.

But Mr L. J. Dunton Esquire, otherwise known in polite society as Lucian John Dunton Avery, Marquess of Cannock, was desperate. Otherwise he would not be found dead within a hundred miles of an obscure seaside resort in the not very fashionable time of mid-September. That desperation had driven him to ask for advice and the landlord at the rigidly respectable Royal Promenade Hotel had recommended this place, so he pushed open the door to a tinkle of bells and stepped inside.

* * *

Sara gave one last twitch to the draperies and stepped back to admire the display of artists’ equipment she had just set up beside the counter—easel, palette, a box of watercolour paints, the beginnings of a rough sketch of the bay on the canvas—all tastefully made into a still life with the addition of a parasol set amidst a drift of large seashells and colourful beach pebbles.

There, she thought, giving it an approving nod. That should inspire customers to buy an armful of equipment and rush to the nearest scenic viewpoint to create a masterpiece.

She replaced the jars of shells she had used on their shelf next to the other glass vessels full of coloured sands and assorted mysterious boxes and tins designed to stir the curiosity of the browser. A glance to her left across the shop reassured her that the bookshelves, the rack of picture frames and the table scattered with leaflets and journals looked invitingly informal rather than simply muddled.

Behind her the doorbells tinkled their warning. Sara turned, then modified her welcoming smile of greeting into something more restrained. This was not one of her usual clients. Not a lady at all, in fact. This visitor was not only unfamiliar, but male. Very male and a highly superior specimen of the sex at that. She kept the smile cool. She was female and most certainly young enough to be appreciative, but she had too much pride to show it.

‘Good morning, sir. I think you may have gone astray—the circulating library and reading room is just two buildings further up the street on this side.’

He was studying the shop interior, but looked round when she spoke and removed his hat. That was a very superior specimen as well. ‘I was looking for Aphrodite’s Seashell, not the library.’

‘Then you have found it. Welcome. May I assist you, sir?’

Aphrodite, I presume? The question was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but he caught it with the faintest twitch of his lips and said only, ‘I hope you may.’ He glanced down at her hand, saw her wedding ring. ‘Mrs—?’ His voice was cultured, cool and very assured.