Authors: Brothers in arms 9 -Love's Surrender
Love’s Surrender
Samantha Kane
Book 9 in the Brothers in Arms series.
Lady Vanessa Carlton-Smythe is from one of England’s most
wel-respected families and the daughter of an earl. She has lived
an exemplary life—the perfect daughter, the perfect lady. Until
one Christmas Eve, when she meets two men who unleash her
secret desires. She can’t surrender her heart, only her body, and
only for the next twelve days. After Twelfth Night, their affair
must end and she wil return to a life that is slowly suffocating
her.
Veterans Nick and Oliver have been constant companions since
Veterans Nick and Oliver have been constant companions since
Waterloo. They share everything, including women and a bad
reputation. When Lady Vanessa catches them in a compromising
position, they are seduced by the longing in her eyes. Cool,
distant, unattainable—the more she protests, the more they want
her. Vanessa’s desires prompt the two men to finaly give in to
their feelings and become lovers. When desire becomes love,
can they convince Vanessa to leave her privileged life behind and
surrender to them forever?
Elora’s Cave Publishing
www.elorascave.com
Love’s Surrender
ISBN 9781419937460
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Love’s Surrender Copyright © 2011 Samantha Kane
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover design by Dar Albert
Photography: Kiselev Andrey Valerevich; Oly/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication December 2011
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Love’s Surrender
Samantha Kane
This one is for my readers. Merry Christmas! And for my editor,
Raelene Gorlinsky, who said, “Why don’t you write a Christmas
story?” And, as always, for my ever-lovin’ husband.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank reader Annette Pascual, who won the chance to
name a character in one of my books in a charity auction. She
went above and beyond to help out a romance book blogger in
need, and I was thriled with her enthusiasm for the project.
need, and I was thriled with her enthusiasm for the project.
Annette named one of the heroes in this book, Oliver Gabriel,
using her two favorite male names. Thanks again, Annette!
No one had asked to partner her in a dance.
It had been happening more frequently. And it was glaringly
obvious here in this smal drawing room, where the furniture had
been pushed back for dancing. There were no potted palms or
columns to hide behind.
She never would have come if she’d known there would be
dancing. It was supposed to be a smal Christmas Eve dinner,
nothing more. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have accepted an
invitation from the Shelbys, but it had been last minute and she
hadn’t wanted to stay at home on Christmas Eve. She should
have known there were ulterior motives behind her invitation.
There always were. Tonight’s agenda seemed to be to humiliate
her while showcasing young Melinda Dorsett’s popularity and
vivacious beauty.
Lady Vanessa Carlton-Smythe felt al the weight of her
ponderous name and her equaly weighty ancestors. Not to
ponderous name and her equaly weighty ancestors. Not to
mention The Incident.
Lady Dalrymple chose that moment to take pity on Vanessa and
sidled over to where she stood alone.
“No partner again, my dear? What a pity.” Lady Dalrymple
languidly applied her fan as she surveyed the balroom. Curls the
color of a cold, gray dawn barely moved in the tepid breeze she
made. “Perhaps you can convince your father to…lower his
standards a bit, hmm?” Lady Dalrymple continued mercilessly.
“You are getting on, my dear. If he isn’t careful you’l be on the
shelf, like poor Miss Peasbody over there.” The old woman
tsked as Vanessa choked on a horrified gasp.
Miss Peasbody was old. And unwed. And unwanted.
“Certainly one would think with your bloodlines that some
gentleman would come up to scratch,” Lady Dalrymple mused
unkindly. “The Carlton-Smythe connection alone is enough to
forgive any deficiencies in character or looks.”
Vanessa pasted on a brittle smile. She’d forgotten Lady
Dalrymple was Miss Dorsett’s great aunt. Which reminded her,
where was her Aunt Grace? Her job as chaperone was to help
Vanessa avoid situations just like this. “It does seem to make a
difference,” she agreed cooly. “Dancing and coy artlessness are
not required of a woman in my circumstances. My name alone
recommends me, as good breeding, impeccable manners and
inteligence are understood in any Carlton-Smythe.”
Lady Dalrymple was not so stupid that she didn’t recognize the
censure in Vanessa’s words. Other than a thinning of her already
thin lips, however, she did not acknowledge the set down.
“Surely a man requires more than a name, my dear. It might be
enough to attract, but to secure him you must display the warmth
and sensibility that a man wishes for in a wife. Wit, dancing,
inteligent conversation are al required to keep a man’s
attentions.”
Vanessa gave Lady Dalrymple the coldly blank look she had
achieved at a young age, after rigorous training with her mother.
The look reserved especialy for those who did not know their
place when addressing a Carlton-Smythe. “A Carlton-Smythe
has no need to snare a man through posturing, Lady Dalrymple.
While some young ladies,” she glanced over at Miss Dorsett,
laughing a little too loudly while she was spun around the dance
floor, “feel a less refined manner wil attract and secure, it is not required of me.”
“Perhaps the handsome Duke of Ashland would argue that
point.” Lady Dalrymple drove that nail home with undisguised
malicious pleasure. “Her Grace is wel-known as a lively young
woman who enjoys dancing and laughing and the pleasures to be
found in such endeavors.”
Vanessa took a quiet, dignified, deep breath. Of course Lady
Dalrymple would bring up The Incident. “Then His Grace was
quite right when he felt we would not suit. As I have said to
Ashland,” she used the familiar address to show she was intimate
with the Duke and Duchess while Lady Dalrymple was not, “if
he had not behaved so badly when he broke our engagement,
neither of us would enjoy the happiness we do today.” She
inwardly cringed. Happiness, indeed. She hardly knew what the
word meant these days.
“If you wil excuse me, Lady Dalrymple, I believe I see my aunt.
Good evening.” Vanessa hurried in the direction of her Aunt
Grace, whom she’d spotted gossiping near the far end of the
room. She passed the dance floor on her way to her aunt’s side,
and noticed Miss Dorsett was no longer displaying her dancing
and wit there. She caught her aunt’s eye and the smal older
woman excused herself from her companion and stepped
forward to greet her niece.
“Is something the matter, my dear?” she asked quietly, taking
Vanessa’s hand and tucking it in her elbow as she slowed
Vanessa’s steps to a stately walk around the room’s perimeter.
To most observers it most likely seemed as if the two had met
deliberately to strol around the room and chat.
“I was ambushed,” Vanessa said softly as she smiled politely at
Mrs. Crusher and her two daughters. The girls were rather plain
Mrs. Crusher and her two daughters. The girls were rather plain
but very sweet and wel dressed, ensuring at least one offer for
each of them this season, Vanessa was sure. She always made it
a point to show her approval of them when they met. The
opinion of a Carlton-Smythe was enough to sway many families
in favor of a match they might not have sought otherwise.
Her smile grew brittle as they passed the Crushers and stroled
into enemy territory. Lady Dalrymple now stood with her sister
and niece, Miss Dorsett’s grandmother and mother, al three
glaring at Vanessa and her aunt.
“I saw. Keep smiling,” Aunt Grace said. She nodded at the
ladies, forcing them to acknowledge her and Vanessa. She knew
they couldn’t afford to risk a faling out with the Carlton-
Smythes. They al nodded back politely.
Vanessa felt a spurt of disgust. She knew they disliked her and
resented her family, and yet they al put on masks and pretended
an affinity none of them felt. Including Vanessa. But she was
reluctant to ruin their family and Miss Dorsett’s chances for an
advantageous match, simply because she disliked them. As a
Carlton-Smythe she may wield a great deal of power, but
Vanessa had been taught from a young age to use it wisely and
judiciously. It simply wasn’t in her nature to be so spiteful.
“Do you need a moment, Vanessa?” Aunt Grace asked,
continuing their strol, smiling and nodding as she went. She had
been raised a Carlton-Smythe as wel and knew how to maintain
been raised a Carlton-Smythe as wel and knew how to maintain
appearances. She also knew how this life sometimes suffocated
Vanessa, and she was sympathetic. Aunt Grace had never
married, not by choice but because her father and brother had
never found a suitor worthy of her. She had once confided in
Vanessa that were the grocer to offer for her at this point, she
would say yes without a moment’s hesitation or consideration.
“Yes.” She did need a moment alone. She needed to regroup
and settle her nerves. It wouldn’t do for anyone here to see her
flustered or in a temper. She lived her life in a glass bowl. Her
thoughts and feelings were her own, however, and not for public
scrutiny.
Suddenly her aunt stumbled and caught her heel on Vanessa’s
hem, tearing it. “Oh, dear!” Aunt Grace exclaimed. Several