Marrying Mischief. Lyn Stone

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Marrying Mischief - Lyn  Stone


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I suppose manners force me to thank you for your hospitality,” Emily said.

      “I am compelled by the same to assure you that you are quite welcome. Use the bellpull if you need anything. There are no maids about to dance attendance, but someone eventually will come to bring whatever is lacking.”

      She swept past him as regally as she could manage and left the library. Whatever was lacking, he had said. That was just about everything she could think of, but certainly nothing a tug on a bellpull would provide.

      Chapter Two

      Nick had known she was not married, of course. His subtle questioning of her brother Joshua aboard ship had relieved that worry before they had begun the voyage home.

      The earl had written six years ago that Emily and the pockmarked postmaster were about to be wed. Nick had stayed drunk for an entire week, then vowed with all sincerity to forget the vicar’s daughter and her faithless ways.

      His father had lied, of course. But Emily had not answered Nick’s subsequent letter wishing her well. Obviously she had wanted him to believe that she was settling into a marriage with Jeremy Oldfield.

      Nick knew nothing good about the postmaster, who had been a self-righteous bore and a bully in their younger days. Those traits frequently grew worse with age and Nick had worried about Emily because of that. However, his relief in discovering she was unattached was now marred by what she had just declared about his ruining her chances for a happy life. He had never once considered that.

      Perhaps she had overdramatized the case because his leaving had made her angry. Emily always had possessed a talent for exaggeration. That quality, too, might have increased with age.

      As for aging, either Emily had changed or his memory was faulty and his dreams had ceased to do her justice. The years had enhanced rather than dimmed her beauty. Blond flyaway curls framed a lovely heart-shaped face that had grown even more exquisite without its girlish roundness.

      Her figure looked fuller, more womanly. To be expected, of course, that she would mature and surpass the prettiness he remembered.

      And her mouth, so expressive in both joy and anger, stirred him still. He had almost given in to the urge to plunder it as he had done so eagerly that one time. But at the last moment he had refrained from doing so. She obviously wouldn’t thank him for it now.

      Her eyes were the same clear and guileless blue, framed by softly curling lashes. However, the absolute trust and adoration he had seen in them once had vanished completely over the years. The absence of that hurt more than he would have believed.

      In truth, it made him soul sick. If what she said was true, his attraction to her might have ruined her life. If only he had been more circumspect, less thoughtless, but at twenty-two he had not fully realized the impact his interest in her would have on her future.

      Now, taking what she had said into consideration, he could see how none of the men in the county would dare trespass on property the earl’s son had publicly claimed and therefore declared off-limits. And that is exactly what he had done with that kiss.

      The very next day, on the earl’s orders and under determined escort, a furiously struggling Nicholas had been set aboard a packet for India to commence learning the vagaries of trade as his father’s representative.

      Apparently his son engaging in business seemed far less demeaning to Earl Kendale than having him inappropriately engaged with a village girl.

      The old man’s warning, issued not an hour before the ship sailed, still rang in his ears. “If you return and insist upon continuing your suit of this little adventuress, I shall ruin her entire family. Loveyne will find himself and his two brats upon the road without a quid among them and with nowhere to go.”

      A horrifying prospect for anyone.

      His father had continued. “She’s a fair-looking bit of fluff, Nicholas, but not for you. Not even as a playfellow. As long as you stay away, she will be safe.”

      Nick had objected vehemently even as he realized he had no choice but to do as instructed. The earl’s threat had been clear and concise.

      His father had laughed. “You’ll be set free as soon as the ship’s well under way. When you are, you keep my bargain in mind, my boy. Picture our eccentric, good-hearted Vicar Loveyne destroyed by the dismissal. He knows nothing else but tending his little flock, now does he? Even if he does, I’ll see him turned off by anyone who hires him. And the girl, Emily? That little baggage can take to the streets.”

      The earl leaned nearer as if to impart a secret. “Trust me, I’ll see to it that she does. And that skinny brother of hers looks just the right size for sweeping chimneys. How old is he now, five or six?”

      Nick had known from experience that his father never bluffed nor made idle threats. The Earl of Kendale had possessed the power, the means and the motive to destroy the entire Loveyne family and he would have done so without a qualm.

      Though his father had never applied cruelty just for the enjoyment of it, he certainly never blinked at crushing anyone or anything that did not suit him.

      Nicholas had his orders. He was to learn shipping from his father’s factors in India, see a bit of the world, then come home and wed appropriately. Wed Lady Dierdre Worthing. His father had left him no choice about the first commands, but against that last, Nick had rebelled. He had stayed away from Bournesea and had never seen the earl, nor replied to his correspondence since that day.

      Apparently his father had solidified plans for the marriage during his absence, Nicholas recalled with a frown. On arriving home three days ago he had found the contract stating the terms of Nick’s betrothal to Dierdre Worthing.

      His own name had been forged below Dierdre’s. Nicholas was assuming her signature was genuine. For all he knew, she could be as oblivious to the entire matter as he had been. He had not heard a word from her in all this time.

      Maybe she was already wed. Heartening thought, but unlikely. Unless she’d become betrothed and married within the past few months, he would have read of it in the newspapers shipped regularly from London.

      His father had risked a scandal with the forgery, obviously counting heavily on Nick’s unwillingness to reveal the deception once he discovered it.

      He wished he could attribute his father’s dishonest meddling to love and concern for an only son, but Nick knew it was borne of a need to master everyone and everything.

      If Emily had shown any interest at all today in resuming what had been begun between them with that kiss seven years ago, Nicholas would have been perfectly willing to pursue it. But she had not. Quite the contrary.

      For Emily, their former attachment, innocent as it had been, had proved disastrous. She must hate him. Because of his interest in her, she was not married and probably never would be. She had declared quite fixedly she was through with men altogether because of him. He knew Emily’s determination once she made up her mind.

      But Emily, a governess? He shook his head. Vintley was no saint. Nicholas remembered him well, and doubted the lecher would treat her with the respect she deserved. The very thought of her assuming such an unguarded position was unacceptable and that was all there was to it.

      Emily had made her decision, however, and Nicholas knew he would never be able to sway her on the matter of taking any financial assistance from him to prevent her working. He had to admire her for refusing his offer of support, even while it angered him that she did so.

      Even an offer to renew the close friendship they once enjoyed, she would view as suspect. And probably would fling something at his head for good measure if he persisted. He would, anyway, of course. How could he do less? He’d missed her terribly.

      He smiled wryly at the thought of her temper. For a girl reared as a vicar’s daughter, Emily did possess a fiery spirit plus impulsive and headstrong ways. That had drawn him to her like a lodestone. He had always admired her fiercely independent


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