by Robyn DeHart
He’s known as The Saint, but she’s tempting him to sin…
England, 1838. Gabriel Campbell, Duke of Lynford never intended to carry that title, but when his reckless brother gets himself killed in a duel over a woman, Gabe has no choice. Now he’s sworn off love, blaming the woman that broke his brother’s heart and led to his untimely death.
Lilith Crisp, Lady Thornton, knew from a young age that pretty girls grow up and get married off to the highest bidder. Being paraded around London as her husband’s trophy has taught her some unique skills and now she can manipulate any man for his darkest secrets.
Gabriel’s position in the Brotherhood of the Sword leads him directly to Lilith’s door. For Gabe, Lilith is the one woman he’s always wanted, and Lilith is now forced to deal with a man who seems immune to her charms. But a secret about Lilith’s niece brings them together to face a danger that threatens not only their lives, but the fate of England’s Crown. Resisting Lilith is getting more and more difficult and Gabe finally recognizes that he can’t keep blaming her for his brother’s fate. Finding love means forgiving the past and that might be the one thing they simply can’t do…
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Robyn DeHart. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Scandalous is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Alethea Spiridon
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill
Cover art by Period Images
ISBN 978-1-63375-642-7
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition April 2016
ADVANCED READER COPY
Not for sale or redistribution. Final content may vary.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
Discover the Brotherhood of the Sword series… Undercover with the Earl
More from Robyn DeHart… A Little Bit Wicked
A Little Bit Sinful
A Little Bit Scandalous
No Ordinary Mistress
For Her Spy Only
Misadventures in Seduction
Get Scandalous with these historical reads… How to Bewitch an Earl
To Win a Lady’s Heart
Lady of Intrigue
A Spy Unmasked
To my own budding astronomer, M, you are a shining star and I love you like crazy.
And the hero of my own romance…Paul, you make this crazy world slow down enough that I don’t get too dizzy. You keep me centered and never fail to make me laugh. You’re my heart.
Prologue
London, 1833
Lilith Jansen stared up at the inky night sky, imagining that the stars were winking just at her. She’d been able to bear only a half of an hour inside the packed ballroom before having to sneak outside for some solace. In truth, she could stay out here all evening, but she knew her father would never allow that. Soon he’d be looking for her, and he’d sternly force her back into the ballroom where he’d try to peddle her off to the highest bidder.
Since coming out last Season, she’d already received a handful of proposals, but her father had deemed not one of them worthy. He was looking for one thing and one thing only—a fat purse. After her mother died, her father had done little but gamble away their funds and then curse her for not bringing in heftier sums from her suitors. She’d tried to tell him, it was she who was supposed to bring money to the husband in the form of a dowry, but he’d gotten so angry, he’d nearly struck her. She never brought up the subject again.
Until the suitor with the biggest purse came along, she supposed she would bide her time and wait for the inevitable. For much of her first Season, she’d wasted time fantasizing about a wealthy, handsome, and kind man who would sweep in and fall desperately in love with her. That had yet to happen. And the more she was around other couples in London, the more she realized that it wasn’t only her parents who hadn’t been a love match. That seemed as rare as a falling star.
“My lady, are you hiding from someone?”
Startled, she turned and found a gentleman watching her. Either he’d silently approached, or she’d been so enraptured with the stars, and her own thoughts, that she hadn’t heard him. “Ah, no.” She’d briefly noticed him earlier in the ballroom. He was wickedly handsome with light brown hair that fell in soft waves about his head, and shrewd hazel eyes looked directly at her. A silent but palpable tremor seemed to shimmer between them. “I was…” She forced herself to look upward.
He followed suit.
“Are they not magnificent? You can see them so clearly over here where the light is dimmer.” Once her eyes were off the handsome stranger she could once again appreciate the heavens.
“The stars?” he asked. “Yes. Though admittedly there are those who shine brighter.”
She again looked to him, confirming that his words had been a compliment as he gazed directly at her. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a formal introduction.”
“True. It is quite scandalous that we’re even speaking.” He winked at her. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”
She grinned. “My lips are sealed.”
“That is a pity, dear lady.” He bowed slightly. “Lord Gabriel Campbell,” he said, retrieving her hand and bending his head over it. His warm breath permeated the thin fabric of her glove as his lips pressed to her wrist.
Lord Campbell. She knew the name, or rather she knew the reputation that went along with the name, and now she understood why he was known as a rake. He’d scarcely spoken to her and she already felt partially seduced. A warm flush covered her chest and neck.
Again she looked to the stars to try to distract herself. “Do you see that cluster of stars there?” She pointed up and to the right.
“Ah, yes, the Seven Sisters, is it not?”
The fact that he recognized them pleased her. “Yes, the Pleiades are commonly called that. I’m not quite certain why, but they’ve always been a favorite of mine.”
“Fascinating. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, by the by.”
“Lilith Jansen. Quite nice to meet you, my lord.”
“But we haven’t just met.” He winked. “We are old friends now, are we not?”
She smiled and nodded.
His eyes traveled the length of her, and immediately her body responded—her breath caught, and she found herself biting down on her lip. She’d had suitors, more than she could count, but this man, something about him was definitely different. Granted, he was a notorious rake, which should shoot off warning signals in her head. Instead she found herself wanting to lean closer to decipher precisely what balance the green and brown were in his eyes.
He closed the distance between them
as if reading her mind; his gaze never wavered off her. “The stars are lovely, but not as lovely as you, my lady. I suspect that someone will come looking for you soon.”
She eyed the doors that led back into the ballroom. “I suppose you’re right.” Namely, her father. If he made an appearance, he would, no doubt, embarrass her. If he knew she’d been out here discussing the heavens with a gentleman, he’d most certainly threaten to throttle her. He’d never actually done so, but she certainly wouldn’t be surprised if one day he did.
“Tell me, Lady Lilith, are you out here merely to enjoy the evening sky or are you also not a fan of these ordeals?”
She laughed. He’d given her a perfect opportunity to pretend that her interests had been something other than the stars. Ladies weren’t supposed to be given to academic studies, at least according to her father. She should flirt and get as much male attention as possible without being inappropriate. “I shouldn’t be so transparent. These balls are rather tedious.” Not entirely untrue, though she found herself longing to be more honest. “That being said, I rarely get the freedom to enjoy such a beautiful view.”
“Nor do I,” he said.
Her cheeks flushed.
“Your secret is safe with me. In truth, I too find these parties trying. I’d much prefer to be home reading. Though I admit it would be nice to sit with such a lovely creature while enjoying my philosophy books.”
So he, too, had interests that defied Society standards.
He reached over and toyed with the dance card that hung from her wrist. “Have you been hiding out here long?” he asked. “I should think a woman of your beauty would have a filled card within ten minutes of arriving.”
She gave him a sideways glance. In truth, she could fill her card faster than that, but she’d become accomplished at sidestepping men whom she did not wish to encourage in their pursuit.
“Brother, have you found a dance partner for me?” a man asked as he approached. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Introduce us, Gabriel.”
The muscles along Gabriel’s jaw tensed, but he nodded nonetheless. “Lady Lilith Jansen, may I present my brother, the Duke of Lynford, Rafael Campbell?”
The duke winked, then bowed deeply.
Rafael was more conventionally handsome than Gabriel, but she found her eyes drawn to the taller, younger brother. Though he was likely out here attempting to do nothing more than seduce her, she’d felt as if he’d seen her, the real her. A foolish notion, that.
“Well, then, I do believe the next dance is a waltz, and I should like to claim it.” The duke lifted her dance card.
She raised her eyes to Gabriel’s, willing him to interject and claim the dance as his own, but he merely bowed and stepped aside. Disappointment flooded her. It was futile, she knew that. The Duke of Lynford was the one with the purse strings, so he would be the one her father would select for her. It mattered not that the younger Campbell was the first man in London to pique her interest.
Duty demanded that she take the duke’s arm and allow him to lead her back into the ballroom. She stole one last glance back at Gabriel, but found him gone. Disappointment flooded her, but thus was her lot in life. She supposed she should be pleased she’d captured the attention of a duke; it certainly would thrill her father.
Chapter One
London, 1838
Gabriel Campbell, Duke of Lynford, stepped down from the carriage and surveyed the area around him. He’d been back in London for less than forty-eight hours after being assigned to hiding Queen Victoria whilst she healed from a minor injury. Personally guarding the queen was an important task, but he was not accustomed to being relegated to babysitting, and the only reason he’d been the one selected was because of his own personal vow of celibacy. His comrades in the Brotherhood of the Sword, the covert and elite organization dedicated to protecting the Crown of England, jestingly referred to him as the Priest.
But this assignment, this was more of what he was used to. Earlier that evening he’d received a message from Lord Somersby. There had been a shooting, and one of their own had killed the man who’d just three days before broken into Queen Victoria’s bedchamber and tried to assassinate her. Gabe had been tasked with examining the scene, retrieving any evidence, and dealing with the dead body.
The location for the old Tyburn Gallows sat directly behind him, and just beyond the trees, many of London’s finest would be riding through Rotten Row in a few hours. They had to get the mess cleaned up before that happened. The Brotherhood had caught the would-be assassin the night he had broken into the queen’s chambers and held him for questioning, but he’d managed to escape, and they’d lost track of him. His death meant that Gabriel couldn’t question the man to discover if he was working alone or if he had an accomplice who also wanted the queen dead. Still, there could be clues on his person that could provide them with necessary information.
He could have sent others to the park to gather any potential evidence, but recently things had not been running smoothly. They’d already lost the attempted assassin once. Gabriel was ready to manage things himself to ensure that this particular attack on the Crown was resolved. He knew from past experience that doing so was the best way, and often the only way, to ensure that things got done. He had brought some lower-level assistants with him; they’d need to take the body back to the offices for examination.
“Over here, my lord,” one of the men called.
Gabriel stepped over some low shrubbery and made his way over to where the man stood in a clearing. At his feet lay the body of the would-be assassin. Something about him seemed familiar.
“Give me the light,” he told the assistant.
The man knelt and held the lantern over the body. Blood caked the right side of the dead man’s face. His hair was neither long nor short, but stuck out in wild tufts of black and gray. Gabe didn’t touch him or examine the wound; he’d do that back in the offices when he had proper tools and light. The dead man’s clothes were dirty and ill-fitting, whereas his boots were notably expensive and well cared for. He looked at the face again.
Gabriel swore. This was not a thug as he’d been told. This was William Crisp, Earl of Thornton.
“What is it, my lord?” the man asked.
“We need to get this body back to our offices immediately. I want to give him a full examination. First, send your most trustworthy man back to me.”
The man stood and called to the others waiting by the carriage, who, in turn, hustled over. Together they heaved Thornton’s body up and hurried back over to the waiting wagon.
“I’ll be there directly,” Gabe told them. “Please take the body into the examining room.” That was what they called it, though it was nothing more than a large room that had once been a parlor and had been reconfigured to a room hosting a long table and a wall of cupboards. It served many purposes, and despite Gabe’s ever examining only one other body, that had been the room where he’d done it.
A young, serious-looking man ran over to him. “I was told you needed further assistance.”
“Indeed.” He wrote down an address and tore the parchment from the book and handed it to the man. “Go here and ask to speak to Lady Thornton. Instruct her that something has happened to her husband, and she is to wait at her home. Someone will be along shortly to speak with her.”
The man stood silent for a moment, gripping the parchment. “My lord? Is it not an inappropriate time to make a social call?”
“I appreciate your fervor, but this is not a social call. It is strictly business.” He patted him on the shoulder for added effect.
The young man nodded and ran off.
Gabriel needed to make quick work of examining the rest of the area so that he could get to Potterfield, the leader of the Brotherhood. He’d need to decide on how they’d proceed. Gabriel also needed to speak with Somersby, the man who’d been here tonight when they’d met with Lord Thornton.
Certainly Somersby knew Thornton, at least in
name, if not his face. Perhaps he’d not recognized the man. Still, Somersby would know if this was the same man who’d attempted to kill the queen, or rather, the stand-in for the queen. If it was, then they were dealing with something that likely was more far-reaching than they’d assumed. Up until tonight, everyone had decided that it was merely a random madman. If it was actually a peer of the realm, then that was a different matter all together.
It was well past midnight, but that did nothing to stop Gabriel from knocking on Lord Potterfield’s door. The butler answered after the second knock, wearing his nightgown and cap. He frowned. Gabe straightened his spectacles.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I must see Lord Potterfield. It is an emergency.”
“Indeed. Come in then, my lord. You remember where his study is?”
Gabe nodded, and the butler left him to find his way to Potterfield’s study. Not ten minutes later the man in question stepped into the room. He looked far more alert than his butler had been, still wearing his evening clothes. That was Potterfield, always put together, always on task; it was the very thing Gabe admired most about him. And more than likely it was the reason why a lowly baron had risen to the top of the Brotherhood organization. It took a strong character to command a group of aristocrats who were accustomed to giving orders rather than taking them.
He cut a lean figure; though he stood a few inches shorter than Gabe, he still commanded the room.
“Lynford, to what do I owe this late-night visit?”
“Did you receive the message from Somersby?”
“I did. I trust you handled the matter,” Potterfield said. He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Of course.”
“Yes, I suppose you were rather eager to get back into the field, as it were.”
Gabe nodded. “It would appear that the situation is far more difficult than we first believed.”
“In what way?”
“The man who was killed, the man who attempted to kill Her Majesty, he is not who we thought. He is someone far more important.” Gabe ran a hand through his hair. “This will shake the very walls of Parliament.”
