A young man determined to prove his older brother wrong.
Jerome Cadogan, younger brother to the Earl of St Clair, is a good-natured scoundrel. His blond, blue-eyed looks are not the least marred by his broken nose, his reputation for trouble, nor his predilection of falling in love with unsuitable women. Reeling from a stinging lecture delivered by his brother the earl, Jerome faces having his allowance cut off if he can’t mend his ways. Determined to prove that he can be every bit as mature and sensible as St Clair, Jerome swears off drinking, carousing and getting into trouble.
A scandal looking for a place to happen.
Sadly, his dearest friend Bonnie has other ideas. Lurching from one disaster to the next in her wake, Jerome is tearing his hair out and knows he must end their friendship before his brother ends him.
Yet when a hulking Highlander turns up to claim Bonnie for his own, Jerome ought to breathe a sigh of relief, but it appears his heart has done something unforgivable and fallen in love with the most unsuitable woman of all.
Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Chapter 1
I feel like I’m running pell-mell towards a cliff’s edge, and though I know there’s a sheer drop to face, I can’t seem to stop myself. I never considered myself a stupid girl, but surely this is madness. Yet the alternative is to give in and do as I’m told and marry a man I don’t want and live in a place I have no wish to be.
The cliff’s edge it is then.
―Excerpt of an entry from Miss Bonnie Campbell to her diary.
10th September 1814, Holbrooke House, Sussex.
Bonnie contemplated the inside of her eyelids, shining red as the sun warmed her face. Sleep tugged at her mind, drowsy from the lazy afternoon and the delicious picnic she’d eaten with her friends. It would be easy to drift off, to forget all the worries that crowded her mind of late, like spectators to another’s misfortune, gathering to gawk and gossip and thank the heavens it wasn’t them run down by the mail coach, or fallen on their face in the dirt.
Bonnie was used to spectators, used to people casting her disapproving glances and tutting and whispering. It was jealousy, she told herself, they were simply jealous that she had the guts to do the things they wanted to do but hadn’t the nerve. What did she care if they thought her a hoyden?
She opened her eyes, dazzled by the midday sun, and blinked up at a sky of azure blue, as blue as Jerome Cadogan’s eyes. Lord but she was a cliché, a foolish little nobody in love with a devilishly handsome man far beyond her reach. He was a wicked charmer with a roguish laugh and twinkling blue eyes, and no more mind to put a ring on her finger that he had to become the next Archbishop of Canterbury. She might be a ward of the Earl of Morven, but her family were not illustrious. Respectable enough certainly, but Jerome Cadogan, brother of the Earl of St Clair could do a great deal better.
Her only hope had been to get him to fall as madly in love with her as she had with him. Bonnie let out a soft huff of laughter as she considered just how well that plan had worked. Jerome loved her all right, just like he loved the rest of his motley band of friends. He thought her a jolly good sort and merry as a grig, and treated her just as he might one of his boisterous roaring boys, not like a gently bred young lady. Not that Bonnie was frail and gently bred. There was nothing the least bit fragile about her. Her figure was voluptuous, verging on plump, she considered herself nigh on unshockable, and she had a knack for saying the first thing that came into her head, usually loudly enough to be heard several streets away.
No, she knew the type of lady Jerome fancied well enough by now and it wasn’t her. Not even nearly. He had a reputation for falling in love at the drop of a hat, and always with women who were far from suitable, much to his older brother’s despair. Apart from their unsuitability these women had other things in common. They were blond and blue-eyed, daintily pretty and in obvious need of rescue. Bonnie might be the epitome of unsuitability but there the comparison ended. She had dark hair, vaguely green eyes, a robust figure and was more than capable of knocking a man out cold with a well-aimed blow to the nose if the need arose. She sighed, aware of her own idiocy and worse, aware that her friends all knew of her infatuation and pitied her for it.
They’d done their best to warn her off, to tell her that Jerome just didn’t see her that way, would never see her that way, and it wasn’t that she didn’t believe them, she did. She knew they were right. Even Jerome, bless his soul, had warned her he wasn’t the marrying kind when he’d caught her eyeing him with something more than friendly affection and the penny had finally dropped. He’d been sweet about it too, making sure she knew how much he valued her friendship and assuring her that it was his loss, for he’d make the most appalling husband if ever he was forced to take a wife. He’d caught at an imaginary rope and pretended to hang himself with it at this point, and Bonnie had laughed at his antics even though her heart was breaking. Ah well, better to have loved and lost … pfft. What drivel. If she could fall out of love with Jerome Cadogan as easily as she’d tumbled into it, she’d do so in a heartbeat, but her heart beat for him alone, and she didn’t know how to make it stop.
Why couldn’t she have just pleased everyone and fallen for Gordon bloody Anderson? The idea of it made her shudder. The glowering, bad tempered fellow and his glowering, unwelcoming castle, Wildsyde, had nothing to recommend them in Bonnie’s view. He wouldn’t know fun if it fell on its head with a label attached pronouncing FUN in capital letters. Well she was damned if she’d marry a man who thought her frivolous because she liked to laugh and longed to dance and enjoy life, no matter what plans Anderson had for her dowry or what Moven had promised her father before he’d died. That had been his promise, not hers. She’d not let them lock her up in some ghastly castle in the Highlands, away from all her friends and with no other occupation than to give her husband as many brats as she could manage before the activity killed her like it had killed her mother. No thank you.
The trouble was, she couldn’t avoid it indefinitely. She was living on borrowed time. Anderson would come for her soon, she knew, and as she lived on Morven’s money, there was no escaping her fate, not really. She could, and would, put it off for as long as possible, however. Perhaps if she behaved badly enough Anderson would refuse to marry her. He only wanted her for her dowry in any case, and if she was damaged goods…
Perhaps that would be enough to make him refuse her?
The idea persisted though she knew it was dangerous. Yet it meant she could have what she wanted, for a brief time at least. She could give herself to the man she loved and be honest with Anderson about what she’d done. Either it would change her fate, or it wouldn’t. Perhaps Morven would disown her, but she didn’t think so. No doubt he’d pack her off somewhere she’d cause him no further embarrassment, but that had to be better than mouldering in some Godforsaken castle in the backend of nowhere, surely.
Well, it would likely come to naught anyway, she thought gloomily. Jerome simply didn’t see her in that light, so he’d probably not want to ruin her, even if she handed herself to him on a platter, though, it had to be worth a try.
Bonnie stared at the lake in front of her as she considered the idea, her gaze falling upon St Clair and Harriet. They’d finally sorted themselves out and were very clearly in love. Lucky Harriet, she thought with a sigh.
Matilda, who was sitting beside her, glanced over at the sound.
“Lucky things,” Bonnie said, smiling wistfully as Matilda nodded her agreement.
“Indeed.”
“We’re not all so lucky, are we?”
“No,” Matilda said, and there was a bleak note in that one word that Bonnie heard and recognised. “But you are young and pretty, Bonnie. There’s time yet.”
Bonnie shook her head. “No,” she said, wishing her voice hadn’t quavered, there was no point in bleating about it. “No, there’s not. I told you, I’m already living on borrowed time.”
Matilda reached out and took her hand and Bo
nnie squeezed it in return, grateful for the woman’s unerring support and understanding. Matilda understood because her time was running out too. “You’ll not be alone, Bonnie. Not forgotten or abandoned. Whatever happens. We won’t allow that. Your friends will always be there for you. I’ll come to Scotland and stay with you, I promise. No matter how far into the wilderness they try to bury you.”
Bonnie made a choked sound as her emotions swelled, and then laughed, and Matilda followed, blinking back tears.
“Lud, how maudlin we’ve become,” Matilda said, shaking her head. “This won’t do at all.”
Bonnie nodded. She couldn’t agree more. You were a long time dead and the living could join them in the blink of an eye as she well knew.
“Aye, there’s time enough for tears and wailing,” Bonnie said, scrambling to her feet, determination swelling in her heart. “I won’t waste a moment of what’s left to me.”
Taking a deep breath, Bonnie snatched up her drinking cup and headed for the lake.
***
Jerome sighed, content, and stretched in the sun like a lazy cat. He considered himself a simple fellow with simple tastes and it took little to please him. A sunny day, convivial company and good food and he wouldn’t have swapped places with a duke or a king. He certainly didn’t envy his brother the responsibilities of the earldom. No, no, the life of a younger son was by far preferable. No accounts legers and tenants bleating about this problem and that roof and the price of barley, no expectations to marry well and provide an heir and a spare, though it seemed Jasper had that well in hand, the sly devil. Harry Stanhope, who would have thought it?
Why hadn’t he seen it earlier, he wondered, for now it was as clear as the besotted grin on his brother’s face. The two of them adored each other. They been at each other’s throats for years and all the time… well, it just went to show, no one knew for sure what went on in another fellow’s head. Probably for the best that too, he thought, suppressing a grin as he turned his own thoughts to a comely new barmaid he’d spotted down at The Swan in the village. She was blonde and pretty, slender as a reed but with curves in all the right places, and she’d given him a smile that might have stopped short of come hither, but only just.
He’d just settled himself down to indulge in an agreeable daydream of how to get an invitation to come hither, when a shock of icy water hit him in the face, and he sat up with a yelp. For a moment he sat, dripping, too stunned to react further, and then he saw her.
“Why you little brat!” he thundered, as his outraged glare fell upon the culprit.
Who else?
“I’m going to throw you in the lake, Bonnie Campbell,” he warned her, pushing to his feet as she hitched up her skirts and gave a shriek. Jasper cursed and set off in pursuit. Bonnie glanced over her shoulder to see him belting after her and crowed with laughter, turning back and sticking out her tongue at him.
“You’ve got to catch me first, clod pole,” she taunted, before running off, into the trees.
Despite his annoyance Jerome laughed, charging after her into the cool shade of the woods. Bonnie squealed as he lunged for her and twisted away, just out of his grasp as she ran on again. She was faster than she looked though her face was flushed now, her eyes sparkling with devilry.
“Wretch!” he yelled, before snagging his toe on a root and falling heavily to his knees. “Curse it,” he muttered, hauling himself up to discover Bonnie had vanished. He could still hear her though, so he ran on, following the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs. What felt like a lifetime later, he paused to lean against a tree gasping. Good Lord but his lifestyle was beginning to take a toll on his stamina. He really did have to make more of an effort before he ran to fat like his friend Cholly, who was looking increasingly portly. Forcing himself onwards, he broke from the tree line where it gave out onto the edge of the lake.
There was a small inlet here, out of sight and secluded, which was just as well as he took in the sight in front of him and froze with shock.
“Bonnie Campbell, you’ll be the death of me yet,” he murmured as his gaze snagged and held on the woman before him, wearing nothing but her shift. She turned to grin at him, standing on a large rock that jutted out into deeper water.
“Bonnie, no!” he called, but too late. With quite remarkable grace, considering what a hoyden she was, she dived into the water.
Jerome ran to the lake’s edge, his heart in his mouth as he stared down into the dark water beneath him. It was deep here, so deep neither he nor Jasper had ever swam to the bottom. Not so much as a ripple disturbed the surface and panic gripped him. No. Oh, no, no, no.
He stripped off, never taking his eyes from the water and then dived in, swimming down and down until his lungs were bursting and he was forced to surface, coughing and spluttering. About to take a breath and dive once more he almost screamed as hand gripped his shoulders and dunked him under.
It was only for a second, but when he came up he found Bonnie shrieking with laughter and he had to fight the urge to throttle her.
“Plague take you!” he shouted, wiping water from his eyes. “That’s not funny you diabolical creature. I thought you’d drowned, curse you.”
“In this little puddle?” she said, pulling a face and obviously unimpressed. “I hardly think so. I’ve been swimming in lochs since I was a bairn, far deeper and darker and colder than this. This is like taking a bath.”
“Perhaps I’ll drown you myself then,” he muttered, and swam after her.
She gasped and tried to evade him, but was too slow this time and he grabbed her about the waist.
“Let go,” she protested, wriggling in his grasp, but Jerome was too incensed to do as she bid him. Though she had likened the temperature to bath water, in truth it was icy and in normal circumstances quite enough to cool any man’s ardour. Having a generous armful of barely clad female in his arms however was enough for Jerome’s body to sit up and take note of the situation.
Behave, he told himself sternly. Bonnie was out of bounds. He knew it. If he hadn’t known it, his brother had hit him over the head with the fact so repeatedly there was really no escaping it. Jasper had warned him his last little mésalliance was the last one he’d bail Jerome out of. To be fair, it had cost a pretty penny and hadn’t been his finest hour and Jerome had been trying to behave himself. Besides, Bonnie wasn’t his type at all, except when she turned in his arms and the fine fabric of her shift did absolutely nothing to make a barrier between her nearly naked form and his own, his cock didn’t seem to be of a mind to make a distinction.
Though the water was too bloody cold, her breasts were still warm and plump and pushed against his chest, the hard little nubs of her nipples a more insistent pressure upon his skin that made his blood heat despite the frigid lake. She gasped with surprise as his erection pressed into the softness of her belly and Jerome held his breath, waiting for her to shriek in horror and slap him. Except this was Bonnie, bold, wicked Bonnie, and he ought to have known better. She wrapped her legs about his waist, and pleasure jolted through him as his cock nestled between her thighs, and her mouth pressed against his. The pleasure was so intense and so unexpected, that he forgot to swim, and they plunged under the water again.
They came up a moment later, coughing and splashing and laughing. Jerome threw back his head and roared with the insanity of it and Bonnie watched him with delight ablaze in her eyes. He saw the devil in her then, recognised it as it called out to the devil in him, a terrible siren song which would lure them both into deep water and destroy them on the rocks if they weren’t very careful. It was why they ought to stay far, far away from each other, and why it was so very hard to keep her at bay. They were alike, two wicked peas in a pod, and all too ready to go to hell together.
With regret, Jerome turned away from her and swam back to the shore, stumbling across the rock to the grass and sitting down in a heap, gasping for air and willing his arousal to perdition. He looked up then and knew that was n
ever going to happen as Bonnie emerged from the water. Her long dark hair was plastered to her, dripping in thick coils about her shoulders, framing the mouth-watering abundance of her breasts. Jerome’s tastes had never run to excess, a tidy handful was quite enough for any man in his opinion, yet he wondered now if he’d not been a bit hasty as his gaze took in Bonnie’s lush curves. His breath hitched as the shift was all but transparent, clinging to her body and leaving nothing to the imagination. Her nipples were clearly defined, as was the dark triangle of her sex as his gaze travelled over her.
Heat exploded under his skin and his body throbbed, all the hotter and more insistent for knowing she’d welcome his advances, she’d made that plain enough. Yet she was an innocent, a young lady, not a willing petticoat or a Cyprian. There were rules. If one did not expect to offer marriage, one had no business in dallying with virgins.
As Bonnie knelt beside him, however, her pale green eyes darker than he’d ever seen them, this was almost impossible to remember. She pressed her lips to his again and he groaned, pushing her down onto the grass and filling his hands with her. She arched beneath his touch and sighed with pleasure as he gave a her full breast a gentle squeeze and then took her nipple in his mouth, suckling.
Oh God, he was doomed.
He licked and teased and grazed her with his teeth, desire a wild thing in his blood now, thrashing inside him and demanding release, and then he looked up. For just a moment he was caught in her gaze, in the emotion he saw there, the love. For just a moment longer his heart squeezed in his chest, and then panic won out and he pushed away from her, getting to his feet. He strode away, his heart thudding unevenly in his chest.
To Wager with Love (Girls Who Dare Book 5) Page 22
