Sea Scoundrel (37 page)

“Did you know,” she asked as she pul ed her scarlet velvet cloak about her, “that I thought of you as two different people on the ship? One was the ‘snarly Captain,’ nasty and mean, with not an ounce of caring. The other was

‘Grant,’ loving, warm and thoughtful. I thought I had you figured out until I met the Marquess. Now he was ‘My Lord,’

aloof and disdainful, but he didn’t stay around much. Of course, there was the il usive Saint. Only your friends cal ed you that.”

“Those were not friends, they were social leeches. The men who cal me Saint don’t know a thing about me.”

“Obviously.”

He slapped her bottom.

“I did like Grant the best, but now they’ve al blended.” She sighed. “There’s no mystery anymore.”

Grant gasped, turning a calculating glance upon her as he tossed her over his shoulder, his hand connecting with her bottom at each step. “I’l show you who is no fun anymore.”

“Oh goodie, it’s the Captain.”

“Oh goodie, it’s the Captain.”

At the tower, Grant came face to face with a messenger.

Without putting her down, Grant read the missive. “Time to go back to London, Lady wife.” He slapped her again.

“Grace’s Duke has been cal ed to Scotland. She would like us to be at their wedding.”

“Do you intend to carry me al the way?” He put her down and handed her the note.

She held it to her heart. “Rose, Angel, and now Grace. Al married. I feel like a mother.”

“I’ve certainly done my part.” He kissed her. “Let’s leave now and surprise them. They won’t expect us until Saturday.”

“If we leave now, we’l arrive in the middle of the night?”

“We’l sneak in and surprise them at breakfast then.” It was four in the morning when they arrived. Anxious for the cozy bed in Grant’s old chamber, they tiptoed up Brian’s wide staircase like mice in a scul ery. At the top, they stopped.

Brian was kissing Aunt Harriette in a very passionate, familiar manner inside the doorway of her bed-chamber.

They were both wearing nightclothes.

After whispered good-nights, Aunt Harriette’s door closed and Brian turned. He blanched when he saw them and put a hand to his heart. “God’s blood, you shouldn’t sneak up on an old man like this.”

“In the library,” Grant said.

With a tilt of his head, he indicated her aunt’s door to Patience. She knocked.

Her aunt opened it and squealed.

“Aunt Harriette, we would like a word with you in the library,” Patience said. “Now, if you please.”

Harriette and Brian, looking none too dignified in their dressing gowns, sat on the settee holding hands. Patience wanted to giggle at their guilty expressions.

She’d been so caught up with Grant, she hadn’t noticed that their attachment had bloomed into love.

Grant cleared his throat exactly as his father had done and sat behind the desk. “I think the conduct my wife and I witnessed this evening is indicative of the need for another wedding. We promise, you’l thank us someday.” He nodded for emphasis. “What think you, wife?”

“I’l bet our night in Scotland was nothing to your night here.”

“Patience!” Grant said.

“Aunt, your conduct is shocking. We should have left a chaperone for the two of you.”

“What about you and Grant?” Harriette said.

“Don’t turn the tables. But just so you know, I was a virgin until my wedding night. I didn’t want to be, but Grant chose the night at the inn to be noble.”

Grant glared at her. “You make it sound like a character flaw.”

“I’m very proud of you, Grant, even if my niece is not.”

“Thank you, Aunt.”

Brian chuckled. “I think you deserve a medal, son.” He looked at Patience. “I love your Aunt, Patience, and I would like your permission to marry her. And just so you know, your aunt was a virgin until your wedding night too.” Her Aunt gasped. “Brian!”

“Now I know where Patience got her blush,” Grant said.

Patience kissed them. “I would be honored to have you as my ...” She grimaced. “Father-in-law-uncle?”

“I would be pleased to have you cal me Father. Your aunt wil always be your aunt, of course. But we want very much to be grandparents to your children.”

“We’d like that,” Grant said. He kissed Harriette’s cheek and shook his father’s hand. “Now, I’d like to get my wife to bed.”

“We’re working on those grandchildren,” Patience said.

Grant rol ed his eyes, took her hand, and knew he had everything he wanted. He turned to his father. “You said we’d thank you someday. You were right. Thank you.”
CAPTIVE SCOUNDREL

(Formerly: Lady Faith)

Knave of Hearts, Two

Excerpt

England, The Bognor Coast, May 1817

The staccato of horse’s hooves shattered dawn’s silence.

Fear clawed at Justin Devereux’s soul, rage engulfed him.

He could roar his fury to the heavens, but no one would hear him. Not even God.

“Damn you to hel and back Catherine Devereux!” he shouted. Slowing his mount as the carriage trail disappeared, Justin took stock of his surroundings. Though he couldn’t see it beyond the thicket, he approached the sea, for he could smel the brine and hear the burgeoning murmur of waves in the distance.

Despite his impatience, he urged his horse slowly on through field madder and budding gorse. Tender-leafed oaks, ironical y, augured new beginnings. Would to God it could be so.

Then he saw it. An old winding trail, its grasses recently trampled by carriage and horses. A family of rabbits scattered as he quickened his pace. For the love of God, he thought, let those tracks be left by the coach carrying Beth.

Two years ago, kicking and bawling, his daughter, Beth, had taken his heart in her wee hands the moment he gazed upon her. Before her birth, he’d thought his life a living hel .

Now, without her, he truly knew what hel was. He would find her, he vowed, or perish in the doing.

Upon clearing the thicket, he froze.

A coach and four stood perilously close to the edge of the cliff, its horses snuffling, ribbons of early-morning fog swirling about them. The chanting, “
see, see, see
,” of Rock-Pipits along the ledge stepping down to the sea imparted a false sense of serenity.

Heart pounding, Justin dismounted and began to make his way toward the unfamiliar conveyance. Sensing movement, he whipped about and came face to face with Catherine, his wife, more's the pity. His brother stood beside her. “I should have known you would be involved in this, Vincent,” Justin said.

Vincent bowed from the waist, a sneer nearly grotesque on his dissipated features.

Catherine smiled. “We have what you want, do we not, my dear?”

“I have come for my daughter, as was your plan.”

“
Our
daughter.”

Justin laughed and knew by Catherine’s look, his insult hit home. “Since before her birth, Beth has been mine, and you’ve been more than content with the arrangement,” he said. “Never even held her, damn your selfish hide.” Fighting an overwhelming urge to wrap his hands around his wife’s perfect, white throat, Justin flexed his fingers to affirm his control.

“Come now, dear brother,” Vincent drawled, mocking the familial endearment. “You cannot remove a child from her mother.”

“I can, if the mother would have it so. When she found she carried, she said bearing a child would ruin her, said she would—”

“Justin!” Catherine's face blanched.

Vincent threw her a startled look.

For a moment Justin was relieved. Beth’s conception must have predated their intimate al iance, else Vincent would have known Catherine’s feelings. Then it occurred to him that Vincent’s shock might stem from the fact that he....

“Beth is mine, and mine alone,” Justin said. “Enough.

Where is she?”

“Safe,” Catherine said.

The word reassured him, likely because he wanted it so, but he didn’t trust her, trusted Vincent even less. “She's a babe, Catherine. Do not use her as your pawn. Besides, I’m on to you. You left a trail a fool could fol ow. Keeping Beth is not your plan, we both know that. What you want is freedom without the disgrace of divorce. Fine. Give her to me and you keep the protection of my name. With my title and wealth at your disposal, the ton wil forget my defection soon enough. I wil take Beth and go away. Forever.” Catherine raised her chin, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

“And you, Vincent, wil have your heart's desire,” Justin said.

Upon hearing those words, Catherine preened the slightest bit.

Justin shook his head. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, Catherine, but
you
are not Vincent’s objective.” Studying his brother, Justin continued to address Catherine. “This man’s singular goal in life is to remain my heir. And he has effectively accomplished that by separating us forever. Divorce would do the same, of course, but it would ruin you both.”

Vincent gave him a smile and nod of acknowledgment.

Justin wanted to plant the bastard a facer. He turned back to his wife. “Now we wil never produce a legitimate male heir.” He lowered his voice and leaned close. “Not that I’ve been inclined in recent years, as you wel know.” Catherine paled.

He hated himself for that. Though he was stuck in the mire with them, he would debase himself no further to brawl at their level. He sighed. “I want my daughter, and I want to be left to raise her in peace. Where is she?”

“Safe away from here,” Catherine said.

God, how he wanted to believe her. “Where?”

“In the—”

Vincent growled and backhanded Catherine across her face, fel ing her with the weight of the blow.

“Bastard!” Justin snapped, and packed every ounce of his frustration into the punch he dispensed, causing Vincent to stagger and fal . Justin gazed with satisfaction at his brother in the dirt, then he lifted Catherine and touched her swel ing cheek. “A lover who beats you. Good choice, Cat.” He sighed, examining her face. “Tel me where Beth is.” Vincent groaned, and stood, rage contorting his features.

“I’l make you sorry until the day you die.”

“I am al atremble,” Justin responded dryly, unable to look away from his wife’s cut and swol en lip. He loved this woman once. What a fool he’d been. “Where is she, Cat?

Where is Beth?”

“In the bloody coach,” Vincent spat.

Shock jolted Justin. He tasted the bitterness of bile in his throat as he raced toward the coach.

“No!” Catherine screamed.

A shot rang out.

Gul s shrieked and took flight.

The horses reared and bolted.

A cry escaped Justin's lips. He lunged and grabbed the coach’s bracings. Prayed for strength, but couldn’t stop its forward surge. The horses scrambled for ground where there was none. Justin dug his heels into the dirt. The cords in his arms knotted and tore.

Al was lost.

But he could not give up.

“Beth!” he screamed as he was dragged over the edge and toward the sea-washed rocks below.

Bio: Annette Blair

A National Bestsel ing author for Penguin Books, Annette Blair left her job as a Development Director and Journalism Advisor at a private New England prep school to become a ful time writer. At forty books and counting, she’s added cozy mysteries and bewitching romantic comedies to her award-winning, Regency, Victorian, and Amish Historical Romances.

Happily married to her grammar school nemesis, Annette considers romance a celebration of life. Besides working on a new story, Annette loves hearing from her readers, antiquing, and col ecting glass slippers.

Contact her at:

www.annetteblair.com

http://www.facebook.com/annetteblairfans http://twitter.com/annetteblair

Awards and Accolades:

SEA SCOUNDREL

1997 RWA Golden Heart Finalist

1991 A Heart of the Rockies Award

1991 A Dallas Area Romance Authors Award
Annette Blair Booklist

Operation Petticoat, February 2013

Sisters of Sprit Anthology, Moving Pictures, Novel a, Dec 2012/Jan 2013

Cloaked in Malice, July 2012

Jonquils in the Snow, Mammoth Book Ghost Romance, June 2012

Holy Scoundrel, June 2012 ebook

Proper Scoundrel, May 2012 ebook

Captive Scoundrel, May 2012 ebook

Sea Scoundrel, May 2012 ebook

Butterfly Garden Audio Book, April 2012

Jacob’s Return Audio Book, March 2012

Untamable Rogue, January 2012 ebook

Unmistakable Rogue, January 2012 ebook Unforgettable Rogue, January 2012 ebook Undeniable Rogue, January 2012 ebook

Butterfly Garden, Oct 2011 paperback & ebook Skirting the Grave, July 2011

Kissingate Magic, Mammoth Book Scottish Romance, January 2011

Jacob's Return, May 2011, paperback & ebook Vampire Dragon, April 2011

Fal in Love Like a Romance Writer, February 2011

Naked Dragon, January 2010

Death by Diamonds, July 2010

Bedeviled Angel, August 2010

You Can't Steal First, Hot Ticket Anthology, Sept 2009

Larceny and Lace, Aug 2009

A Veiled Deception, January 2009

Never Been Witched, Feb 2009

Gone with the Witch, May 2008

Sex and the Psychic Witch, August 2007

The Scot, the Witch & the Wardrobe, Dec 2006

You Can't Steal First, Hot Ticket Anthology, May 2006

Scoundrel in Disguise, May 2006

My Favorite Witch, January 2006

The Butterfly Garden, April 2005

The Kitchen Witch, Oct 2004

A Christmas Baby, Oct 2004

An Unmistakable Rogue, Oct 2003

An Unforgettable Rogue, Oct 2002

An Undeniable Rogue, Mar 2002

Thee I love, Oct 1999

Lady Patience, Sept 1999

Lady Faith, March 1999

www.annetteblair.com

http://www.facebook.com/annetteblairfans http://twitter.com/annetteblair

THE END