Heart of a Scoundrel (Handful of Hearts Book 4)

by Jenna Jaxon

  Cocking his head, Kit frowned. “How so?”

  “Had I remained in Wellesbourne I would not have incurred the expenses that must now be reimbursed to you. I swear to you, I never would have done so had I any inkling you still lived.” Oh, folly too foolish to be borne. And her debt to her cousin was not even the worst of it. Had she never come to London she would not have met Richard, would not have loved him, nor lost him. The pain of that loss had settled into an ache that throbbed with each beat of her heart.

  “But, cousin—”

  Sitting straighter, she fixed him with a steely eye. “I insist, cousin. Every penny will be returned.” She turned back to Richard and stilled his hand. “I see now that we were never meant to be together.” Swallowing back tears, she gripped his hand with the small bit of strength she had left. “Your father’s decree was for the best, after all. Now you will wed a woman who has the station and wealth to match your own. In the end, you would not have wanted me. You have done well to escape such a mésalliance.”

  “Amanda!” Richard’s shocked look and indignant tone made her wince, but she must be brutally honest with them both.

  “My dear cousin, please do not distress yourself over a few pounds.” Kit grasped her other hand, bringing her attention back to him. “The money is of little consequence to me. I praise the Lord God each day that my wits have returned to me. I am in England once again, and have found my family again, what little of it is left.” Dropping his gaze to his lap, he squeezed her hand then ran his thumb over her knuckles, in what should have been a soothing motion but wasn’t. “Ever since I learned of Grandfather’s death, I have been thinking what to do to best mend the fences broken when your mother and her father fell out so many years ago.”

  “Kit, you need not—” The money was his; she wanted no part of it now. It would not bring her Richard back.

  “No, Amanda, I must speak. I am quite decided in my mind. It is only fair, since Grandfather’s monies and estate will now come to me, that I ask you to become my wife.”

  With a gasp, Amanda jerked her hands back. “Kit! You cannot be serious.”

  “But I am, cousin.” His eyes were kind and compassionate, but his jaw was firm. “If we marry, we heal the breach that has plagued our family these many years. You are assured of a home, a good position in society, and you will want for nothing for the rest of your life.”

  “But we scarcely know one another, Kit.” Staring at him, her mind raced for an argument against his plan, for his scheme unfortunately made sense. If she refused him, she would be resigning herself to a life of quiet spinsterhood, caring for her father as he grew old, relinquishing any hope for a family, for children of her own. The price would be to marry a man she did not love. A good man, to be sure, one for whom she had the utmost respect and some fondness, but whom she doubted she would ever love. Certainly not as she loved Richard.

  “Such things are easily remedied, cousin.” Smiling, he took her hand once more, and her stomach dropped. “You will come stay with my mother and myself, and we will become better acquainted before we are actually wed. I will return to my occupation as schoolmaster in Thame, and you will learn to run the household and become part of our town’s society.” He glanced around the glittering ballroom and shrugged. “Not as grand as this society, of course. Still, we have our own entertainments and charity events.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “As my wife, you will take your place as someone respected in our community.”

  She threw an agonized glance at Richard, but his face was as if carved from marble. Amanda held her breath then slowly let it escape. Her choices seemed evenly matched, if looked at with a detached eye. A home and a life of service in either case. One proposed a return to the familiar, the other posed the possibility of children. Neither offered a life with the man she loved. Did it then matter very much at all which option she chose?

  * * * *

  Seething with a scarcely concealed rage since Mr. Weeks had appeared, Richard clenched his fists and concentrated on not planting the man a facer. How dare he suggest Amanda marry him and live in what would amount to squalor compared to the life she should be living? She was meant for finer things, a place in Polite Society where he could meet her at entertainments during the year, could perhaps steal moments alone with—

  The absurdity of the situation hit him like a blow to his gut. Of course he would not see her again after tonight. Her inheritance gone, she could do nothing more than accept this oaf’s offer, unless she preferred to remain with her father, the surgeon, all her life. It should matter little to him, and yet his heart had been seized in a vise that seemed to squeeze the life out of him.

  “Very well then, Kit—”

  “Amanda, wait.” The words leaped from his mouth before he could even think to form them.

  She turned to him, a miserable frown marring the beautiful features. “Richard, please do not interfere.”

  “But I must, my love.” Gabbling, without a notion in his head what he was saying, he nevertheless continued. “You were distraught on the dance floor and did not allow me to finish what I was saying.”

  Taut lines appeared around Amanda’s mouth. “What more did you need to say? Your father will not allow us to wed. You are to marry the daughter of a duke.”

  The woebegone face, tears still sparkling on her cheeks, touched something deep within Richard. This woman loved him with a depth of feeling he’d never have thought possible. She believed in him, in his intrinsic good. He could not, would not see that trust shattered. Not while there was a hope of heaven before him.

  The choice was his to make. He could continue as Father demanded and remain the favorite son or follow his own desires and face the consequences of those actions.

  He seized her hands and brought her to her feet. “I said that he was adamant that I marry Lady Edith.” Taking a deep breath, Richard gazed into the dazzling blue of her eyes, wanting more than anything in the world to see them every day for the rest of his life. “I did not say I would do so.”

  “What?” Her little gasp thrilled him as those beautiful eyes widened.

  “I intend to tell Father I refuse to marry Lady Edith.” He touched her cheek, collecting her tears on his thumb. “And that I will marry no one but you.” Smiling as the astonishment lit her face, he grasped her other cheek. “If you will have me.”

  “But…but you said he will disinherit you.” A glimmer of doubt darkened Amanda’s face.

  “Likely he will.” Unequivocally. Father was too used to getting his own way to brook any dissent. Funny, but he no longer cared about his father’s approval. Only Amanda’s. “I will need to throw myself on the mercy of my mother for support. However, I believe she will like you. Even better, she will enjoy immensely the idea of doing something against my father’s wishes.” Grinning, he envisioned his mother’s delight in at last thwarting one of his father’s designs. “Still, if it means having you as my wife, I will gladly relinquish anything he would withhold. It’s only until his death, when I will come into his title and the entailed lands.”

  “I believe I can ease your path in a modest way, my lord.” Mr. Weeks spoke up, his once jovial countenance now more sober, yet determined. “It is customary to offer a dowry when a woman is to be married. I will secure five thousand pounds as her settlement.”

  “Oh, Kit, no!” Looking from one man to the other, Amanda stared in disbelief. “That is half your fortune.”

  “I insist, my dear.” He bowed to her then nodded toward Richard. “I am well set up as I am for my simple needs. The money is yours, as long as you accept the gentleman, that is.”

  Heart thumping, Richard pulled her closer to him and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Will you marry me, Amanda?”

  Eyes glistening with tears once more, she nodded and whispered, “Oh, yes, Richard. Yes, I will marry you.”

  A sudden hush seemed to fall over the crowded Assembly Rooms. With a quick glance, Richard ascertained that the eyes of all those pre
sent were on them, waiting feverishly. Well, for once he wasn’t afraid of being an on-dit that would resound at the breakfast tables in the morning. “Thank you, my love, for making me the happiest man alive.”

  Very deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers, the lovely pink petals of her lips soft and warm and oh-so-willing.

  She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest, and making heat rise throughout his body.

  A little sigh escaped her as he stole inside her mouth. Incredible sweetness urged him to plunder gently, exploring, experiencing every inch of her as never before. Not only her mouth but her whole being entranced him: the curve of her breast, the roundness of her hip, the smallness of her waist, the sweet scent of jasmine that clung to her and drove him wild. And now she was his. Forever.

  After what seemed an aeon of bliss, he raised his head and blinked. A crowd of Almack’s patrons had gathered around them, their expressions ranging from the utter shock of the older matrons whose mouths had dropped in a unanimous O, to the delighted stares of the giggling young ladies, to the grinning gentlemen, chuckling and elbowing each other.

  The final person, of all people, his gaze came to rest on was Lady Celinda Graham. Given her earlier ultimatum, her scowling, outraged visage should’ve made him tremble and retreat. Elated instead, he simply fastened his arms more securely around Amanda and urged her head onto his shoulder. “I do beg your pardons, ladies and gentlemen, for making such a stir, but Miss Amanda Sharpe has just consented to be my wife, and I was quite carried away by her acceptance.”

  Fortunately for them, they would no longer need to attend Almack’s, as after this spectacle the patronesses would likely ban them en masse.

  The eruption of applause sounded thunderous, and Amanda hid her face until all he could see were the tips of her ears, turned a bright red.

  “I see our little discussion has borne fruit, Somersby.” Lady Celinda gave him a careful smile. “Everything has worked out for the best, I believe. Although,” she leaned closer so only he and Amanda could hear, “I will still have my eye upon you. You must treat my friend as befits her sweet nature or I will make good my promise.”

  Amanda lifted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “What promise has she made you, Richard?”

  “To remind me to be a scoundrel no longer, my dearest, and to love you as I should.” He nodded to Lady Celinda. “A promise she will never need to keep, I believe.” Lowering his lips to her ear, he whispered, “For my heart will keep me always faithful to you, my love.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Jenna Jaxon is a bestselling, multi-published author of historical romance in periods ranging from medieval to Victorian. She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, she’s always loved a dark side to the genre—a twist, suspense, a surprise—and tries to incorporate all these elements into her own stories. She lives in Virginia with her family and three rambunctious cats, Marmalade, Sugar, and Olive. When not reading or writing, she indulges her passion for the theatre, working with local theatres as a director. She often feels she is directing her characters on their own private stage.

  Jenna is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America and is very active in Chesapeake Romance Writers, her local chapter of RWA.

  She equates her writing to an addiction to chocolate, because once she starts she just can’t stop.

  Connect with me online:

  Blog: Jenna’s Journal

  Twitter: @Jenna_Jaxon

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Jenna-Jaxon/146857578723570

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4960704.Jenna_Jaxon

  Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005CHPBD2

  More Works by this Author

  Handful of Hearts series:

  A Kiss Beneath the Mistletoe (Book 1)

  Heart of Desire (Book 2)

  Heart of Delight (Book 3)

  Hearts at All Hallows’ Eve (Book 5)

  The House of Pleasure series:

  Only Scandal Will Do (The House of Pleasure, Book 1)

  Only Marriage Will Do (The House of Pleasure, Book 2)

  Only a Mistress Will Do (The House of Pleasure, Book 3)

  Only Seduction Will Do (The House of Pleasure, Book 4)

  The Widows’ Club series:

  To Woo a Wicked Widow (The Widows’ Club, Book 1)

  Wedding the Widow (The Widows’ Club, Book 2)

  What a Widow Wants (The Widows’ Club, Book 3)

  Other titles:

  Time Enough to Love

  (Betrothal, Betrayal, Beleaguered, Beloveds)

  Excerpt from Heart of Desire, Book 2 of Handful of Hearts

  Chapter 1

  London, May 5, 1820

  Packed to the gills, Lady Hamilton’s ballroom glittered with candlelight, fine silks and satins, and every type of precious jewel known to the world. The music had a lively air, the first dance being a waltz, and Miss Katherine Locke would’ve thought herself fortunate to be out again in Society after a long, cold, dull winter in Somerset save that her partner, Lord Haversham, was the rudest man in London. Well, his lordship was about to discover that Kate Locke was not one to suffer fools lightly.

  “So you refuse to allow your sister to waltz, yet you are quite willing to stand up with me and dance this, according to you, most scandalous of dances.” Kate smiled into the odious wretch’s face. “My lord, I should say that smacks of hypocrisy.”

  “Indeed.” Lord Haversham turned them skillfully at the end of the floor. “I would say it showed a want of character in your brother for allowing you to dance it with me. The waltz should be danced by married couples and no one else.” He pulled her close against him, so their bodies almost touched.

  She gasped at her proximity to the rogue. How dare he make a spectacle of them on this crowded dance floor?

  “You see?” he whispered, peering into her face, his gaze intent upon her mouth.

  All she could see were his dark eyes, as the crisp scent of his sandalwood cologne filled her nose.

  “Ainsley should be horsewhipped for allowing it.”

  “I’ll see to it he horsewhips you if you don’t let me go.” Kate gave a hopping step and smashed her foot down on top of his.

  Lord Haversham lurched forward, actually falling onto her.

  For the briefest moment, they stood pressed together in a warm embrace that made Kate tingle all over. Then outrage swept through her, and she pushed him away. “How dare you,” she seethed, trying to pull away from him.

  “That was your fault, and you know it. And if you make a scene that results in me having to marry you, I swear I will lock you in the tower at my grandfather’s castle and throw away the key.” Lord Haversham righted himself and smiled at her with clenched teeth.

  “Of all the students at Oxford, my brother had to befriend you?”

  “He had you for a sister—his luck was due for a change.”

  “Well, I wish mine would change, Haversham. If I have to endure you for five more minutes, I will fall down in a dead faint just to get away from you.” Kate wanted to scream in frustration at her brother’s best friend, but the man was right. Any scandalous behavior could end with her compromised and married to Haversham before the month was out. The Season had just begun. She refused to let it end in a single night with the man who’d been the bane of her life for years.

  “Luck must be on your side tonight, as the dance has, mercifully, come to an end.” He dropped her hand as though it burned him and offered his arm. “Shall I see you to your brother?”

  “Lord, yes.” She barely touched his proffered arm. The less contact with him the better. “Nathan must see that I completed the dance with you.” She avoided his eyes. “Ah, there he is, talking to our cousin, Lady Celinda.”

  “Do you think she will be slighted if I don’t ask her for the next dance? I am weary of having my toes stepped on, although
she may have better dancing form than my last partner.” Lord Haversham didn’t break a smile, but his walnut brown eyes twinkled with merriment.

  “I think she’ll be delighted to escape having a conversation with you about your antiquated views on the social graces.” Beyond caring who heard her, Kate allowed her voice to rise above the hubbub of conversation. “And if your poor sister isn’t allowed to waltz before she is married, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  They stopped in front of her brother and cousin, the one trying to contain his laughter, the other glancing about the room with an alarmed expression on her face. Kate could only thank goodness they were not at Almack’s. She might very well lose her voucher. Lord Haversham always knew exactly what to say to goad her into inappropriate behavior.

  “There, Nathan. My forfeit is completed.” Kate jerked her hand from the crook of her escort’s arm. “Come, Celinda, let us retire to the refreshment room. I’m absolutely parched and must have some lemonade. Sadly, when a gentleman has no idea how to lead his partner, the dancing is much more exhausting.” She sent an arch glare at Lord Haversham as she snared Celinda’s arm. She simply couldn’t escape the wretched man quickly enough.

  “Please allow me to fetch you some refreshment, Miss Locke. I would not want you to suffer one bit more than necessary.” Haversham’s sickeningly sweet tone set Kate’s teeth on edge.

  “Oh, God forbid I put you to work, Lord Haversham.” Kate smiled and returned his saccharine attitude. “It would be the on-dit of the night.”