The Mysterious Lord Millcroft

by Virginia Heath

  You dream of wicked rakes, gorgeous Highlanders, muscled Viking warriors and rugged Wild West cowboys from another era. Harlequin Historical has them all! Emotionally intense stories set across many time periods.

  Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Historical every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!

  Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.

  Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice

  OR

  EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.

  Click here to join for FREE

  Or visit us online to register at

  www.HarlequinMyRewards.com

  Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.

  An Outlaw to Protect Her

  by Harper St. George

  Chapter One

  Being the madam of the most notorious brothel in Montana Territory came with certain privileges. Financial security and independence rode high at the top of that list for Glory Winters. In fact, she would go so far as to say that those were the only benefits that really mattered. For they allowed the other freedoms to exist. Without them, she’d never have been able to open her home to women running away from unfortunate situations. Nor would she have had the resources to purchase nearly an eighth of the town of Helena, making her the single most prosperous female landholder.

  Unfortunately, those very same privileges that she so enjoyed came with some definite negatives. One of those negatives sat across the table from her now. He grinned, giving her a flash of the gold crown capping his left bicuspid as he tossed back the remainder of his brandy. Glory suppressed a shudder as he swallowed, making the beginnings of what would soon be a double chin wobble as he did so. He brought his handkerchief up and pressed it to his mouth before wiping it across his sweaty forehead.

  “Excellent beefsteak as usual, Miss Winters.”

  Drawing on the impeccable manners she’d been taught at her mother’s knee, Glory offered him a dazzling smile. He was a guest and she wouldn’t insult him, but making conversation with him made her skin crawl. “Thank you, Mr. Harvey. I’m so pleased you enjoyed your meal.” She intentionally drew out the vowels to make her Southern drawl more pronounced. It never failed to charm even the most cantankerous gentleman. Though she used the term gentleman loosely in the case of William Harvey. The only thing noble about him was his dress. He was a snake in the trimmings of probably the most expensive suit she’d ever seen on a man. For a town that had made millionaires out of humble miners, that was saying a lot.

  “You’ve done quite well for yourself here.” He sat back in the chair, leather creaking as he laced his hands over his lap.

  Glory kept her smile in place. The words hung heavy in the air between them, filling it with silent tension broken only by the hushed conversation at one of the other tables across the dining room. Harvey always had something up his sleeve. She recognized this as the moment before he would strike and she tried to prepare herself for how bad the bite would be. One thing she had learned in her years here was to never underestimate the greed of men, especially when they saw a woman who had something they wanted.

  Harvey wasn’t the first to want a stake in her business. He wouldn’t be the last.

  “You’re too kind,” she said.

  “And you’re too humble. I remember when this place was little more than bare floorboards and straw mattresses.”

  She tried not to wince. Victoria House had never been quite that shoddy. When she’d arrived with her dear friend Able, the place had been a neglected mansion that had seen better days, but it certainly hadn’t been a hovel. They had slowly transformed it into the grand club it was today. She’d hired a proper chef, and they had several dining rooms and parlors where gentlemen could come to relax surrounded by opulence. There were plenty of saloons down the road where they could go to get a whiskey for half the cost with cheaper buy-ins for poker and faro, but they came to Victoria House because they liked the atmosphere. The dust of sophistication that coated the mansion fed their need for luxury.

  These men had pulled gold, silver and copper from the earth to make themselves wealthier than they’d ever dreamed possible. The social salons of New York and London might not welcome their new money, but Glory was happy to give them a taste of that same opulence right here in Helena. Even her gowns came straight from Paris. The men were more than willing to hand over a portion of their riches for a taste of that life.

  “Well, I’ve always known the value of a little hard work. As do you.” She wasn’t above pouring on a little flattery.

  He inclined his head as if it were quite the task to lord over the men who did the backbreaking work of maintaining his gold mines. “It’d be a shame to see all of this hard work go to waste.” He raised a hand and indicated the room with its silk wall coverings, Persian rugs and brass finishings.

  Ah, and there it was. He was after her wealth. Now to figure out his game before he could lower the trap. She’d perfected her poker face years ago, so she managed not to reveal so much as a flicker of her lashes. “Hard work rarely goes to waste.”

  His smile faded, replaced by cold calculation. “You are aware that statehood is just around the corner for our humble little territory? Helena is in the running for state capital. Thanks to the railroad, nice Christian folks are moving here and they don’t want to see an establishment such as this in our midst. Surely you can see the benefit of having a friend like me.”

  Rumors were that Harvey would be elected to the legislature; it was the main reason she tolerated his odious presence. She couldn’t afford to alienate anyone with political clout. “But I thought we were friends,” she countered.

  He shrugged, his cold gaze sliding over her exposed shoulders and down farther in a slow glide that made her want to scrub away the filth he’d left behind. “We could be closer, Miss Winters. Much closer. I could help you keep everything you’ve worked for, and you could help me.”

  She didn’t even want to entertain the thought of what helping him would entail. “I think the fine people of Helena will come to understand how much good I do for the town. My taxes and personal donations have contributed to the school that was recently built.”

  He laughed. “Money only goes so far. The reputation and honor of our fair city is at stake, particularly when it comes time to vote for statehood. Why, a notorious place such as this might not be able to exist in a law-abiding state.”

  “Then the fate of Victoria House is sealed either way,” she said with a shrug of her shoulder.

  “Ah, but I have friends, Miss Winters. And soon I’ll have influence. If we were...friends...I could extend that influence to you.” He licked his lips, leaving them wet and shining in the light of the candle flickering on the table between them.

  She swallowed past the bile that threatened to rise in the back of her throat, and opened her mouth to tell him in her sweetest voice that no way in hell would she ever be that sort of friend to him. Because she was a madam, men often assumed incorrectly that she was also for sale and she had to set them straight. Thankfully, Able intervened before she said something foolish and made an enemy they didn’t need.

  “Miss Winters.” His large frame took up nearly the entire doorway of the dining room. “You’re needed upstairs.”

  He had a sixth sense when it came to saving her. It had been that way ever since they escaped together twelve years earlier. She simply wouldn’t have ma
de it out of that house in the South Carolina low country all the way to Helena had he not almost literally carried her the entire way.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Harvey. Duty calls. It’s been a pleasure.” She rose and nearly gasped audibly when the man leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. No one ever touched her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Able step into the room, ready if he was needed.

  “Think about what I’ve said, Glory. You may not have that long to make up your mind,” Harvey said. His eyes flashed with cruelty as he let her go just as Able came to a stop next to his chair.

  “Is that a threat?” She bit the words out through clenched teeth.

  “Not at all.” He grinned, but it wasn’t the least bit friendly. “Merely an observation of things to come.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Harvey.” Without another word—as much as she hated him and all he stood for, she wasn’t willing to make Harvey an enemy—she strode out of the room with Able close behind her.

  “Thank you for intervening,” she whispered once they’d walked far enough down the hallway to not be overheard.

  Able made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat. “I’ve never liked that man. Don’t trust him.”

  “You and me both.” She opened the door leading to the servants’ quarters in the back of the house and paused to make sure no one followed them. Closing the door behind them after Able had stepped inside, she said, “He wants Victoria House.”

  Able drew in a sharp breath through his nose. “He won’t get it.” The light of the electric wall sconce reflected off his medium-brown skin, revealing a brow that was smooth and not furrowed in worry. His dark eyes were calm. Quiet and sensible, he’d become the barometer against which she measured the scope of their problems. There wouldn’t be reason to worry until he was worried.

  Nodding her agreement, she said, “It’s nothing we haven’t faced before.” A couple of years ago they’d faced a similar threat, only this one had been a group of investors looking to purchase the place from her at a value far below market. Little had they known that Able was part owner and any decision she made would have to be corroborated by him. Once they’d found out they’d resorted to force instead of seduction. In the end, they’d dealt with those men and she had confidence that Harvey could be handled as well.

  “Is everything else going well?” she asked.

  “Fine. We’re a little busier because of the faro tournament across the road, but everyone is behaving themselves.”

  “In that case, I’ll go get a little work done in my study and give Harvey some time to leave. Let me know if I’m needed.” Able agreed, and Glory took the back stairs up to her study on the mansion’s third floor. The top floor was private. Her apartment was attached to her study and the other ladies who lived at Victoria House full-time had rooms there. It wasn’t decorated quite as ostentatiously as the rest of the house. The wall color was a soft cream with a blue-and-gold runner softening her steps in the hallway. Each door boasted a wreath or some other decorative trinket that reflected the resident’s personality. In short, this floor felt like home and was a respite from the bustle of the rest of the house.

  Up here the William Harveys of the world felt far away. Glory let out a breath, already anticipating the nice long soak in her bathtub she’d take when the evening was over. It seemed like the nights were getting longer, or maybe she was simply getting older. She’d be thirty in a couple of years, which didn’t seem particularly old, but this wasn’t where she’d imagined herself at this point. Life was strange in that way. Nothing ever seemed to happen the way she meant for it to happen, but she’d learned that it could still be good. She had about a million things to be thankful for, not the least of which were security and independence. It was more than she’d had a decade ago.

  She was smiling when she approached her study, but the smile faltered when she realized that the door wasn’t latched. A gentle nudge revealed that her assistant’s desk sat empty. Glory turned on the wall sconce to reveal that no one was in the antechamber at all. How odd. Charlotte, her assistant, always closed up when she finished her work for the evening. A stack of correspondence ready to post the next morning sat on the corner of Charlotte’s small desk, exactly as she’d left them. It was possible that Charlotte had forgotten to lock up, but a strange sense of foreboding made her stomach tumble.

  Glory took in a deep breath, consciously avoiding looking across the room at the door that led to her study. Glory was the only person with a key to that door. If it was open then it meant that someone had broken in and she’d have to face that her sanctuary wasn’t really a sanctuary at all. But she was being silly. Of course it was locked. To prove it to herself she put her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt and wrapped her fingers around the warm metal of the key. It was still safely with her. Charlotte had simply forgotten to close the door to the hallway.

  Her heart pounding, she turned toward her door. It was mercifully closed. An exhale of relief left her feeling deflated and weak. She put a hand on the corner of Charlotte’s desk to keep her balance. Even after all these years she was wary of any irregularity. She knew all too well how quickly life could come crashing down with very little warning.

  There was no light coming from beneath her door and no sound came from within her study. No one had been inside. She knew that, but her heart resumed its pounding as she approached the door with her key in hand. The cool metal of the latch chilled her palm and she gave it a quick turn to test the lock. Her key held useless in her other hand, the door latch made a clicking sound as it unlatched. She gave a little push and the door creaked, swinging open to reveal the interior of her office. Moonlight flooded in through the windows facing the street, spilling onto the carpeted floor. No one was inside, but nevertheless she moved forward cautiously.

  As soon as her feet crossed the threshold she saw it. It was a square piece of parchment sitting in the middle of her tidy desk, and it seemed to have a nearly ethereal glow in the moonlight. It had not been there when she’d left earlier in the evening.

  Turning on the electric sconce on the wall didn’t help. The white parchment lost its glow, but it didn’t seem any less dangerous. It hadn’t been sent by post. There was no envelope, no markings at all. She crossed to her desk, watching the note as if it were a living thing that could jump out and grab her at any moment. Blood pounded through her head, filling her ears with its roar. Somehow her life would change when she read that letter. She just knew it. Good things rarely came along unexpectedly.

  Her fingers trembled when she reached for it. The stiff paper was cool under her touch, barely crinkling as she sucked in a deep breath and flipped it open. The first five words on the page jumped out at her, sending a shard of terror straight through her heart.

  I know who you are.

  Copyright © 2018 by Harper St. George

  ISBN-13: 9781488086953

  The Mysterious Lord Millcroft

  Copyright © 2018 by Susan Merritt

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicate
d with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com