Three Times a Bride

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by Catherine Anderson


  Heather extended a finger toward the babe. Beatrice curled a tiny pink fist around it and held on fast. “Now then, Beatrice. Here is the story I will tell you. There once was a young lady who was all the rage in London. But this young lady…I think we shall call her Lavinia, yes, Lavinia!”

  Beatrice stared at Heather raptly, as if she understood every word.

  Victoria’s lips quirked, for Miles was shaking his head, an indulgent smile on his lips. When he held out his hand, she accepted it wordlessly.

  Heather continued. “Well, Beatrice, Lavinia was very opposed to marriage, but she came up with a most unusual idea in order to lay to rest her papa’s insistence that she marry. Can you imagine, Beatrice, Lavinia followed a man—an earl—into a garden and kissed him! But her plan failed, you see, for her papa demanded she marry this man!”

  Hand in hand, Miles and Victoria quietly retreated. At the threshold, they paused to listen once more.

  “Oh, but this scandalous bride was at wit’s end, being forced to marry this earl, for though he was quite handsome, he was a wicked one indeed!”

  Miles was taken aback. “Handsome, yes,” he concurred in a whisper. “But wicked?” He shook his head in mild affront. “I think not!”

  Victoria’s eyes were dancing. “A woman’s perspective,” she informed him gravely. She pressed a finger to her lips, for Beatrice was yawning, and her eyes had begun to droop.

  Heather hastened to finish. “And so, Beatrice, the scandalous bride Lavinia set about taming her wicked earl and making him fall quite madly in love with her…”

  Miles pulled his wife into his arms. “She did indeed,” he murmured against the smooth skin of her temple. He drew her into the hallway where he claimed her lips in a long, ardent kiss that sent their senses soaring.

  When at last he released her, a teasing smile curled her lips. “Ah,” she said playfully, “but the scandalous bride does have one regret.”

  One dark brow arched roguishly. “And what might that be, countess?”

  Victoria twined her arms about his neck. “Had she known what fate awaited her that long-ago night, she’d have kissed her wicked earl much, much sooner…”

  It was SAMANTHA JAMES’s love of reading as a child that steered her toward a writing career. Among her favorites in those days were the Trixie Belden and Cherry Ames series of books. She still loves a blend of mystery and romance, and, of course, a happily-ever-after ending. The award-wining, bestselling author of eighteen romances and one novella, her books have ranged from medieval to Regency to the American West. Please visit her on the web at www.samanthajames.com.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at

  IN PURSUIT OF A SCANDALOUS LADY

  The first in a new series from USA Today bestselling author Gayle Callen

  The biggest secret in London is about to be…revealed.

  Every gentleman is wondering: Who is the beauty in the scandalous nude portrait hanging in one of London’s most fashionable clubs? Is it true that she’s a member of the ton? Who would be so daring? So reckless?

  Julian Delane, Earl of Parkhurst, has a good idea. So good, in fact, that he’s willing to make a wager on it. If only the bet were all that’s at stake…

  Determined to clear the family name from a scandal that claimed his father’s life, Julian believes the ravishing model will lead him to answers. Rebecca Leland—spirited, adventurous, with a bit of a wild streak—is just as determined to evade his questions. But when Julian finally corners his quarry, he may find Rebecca well worth the pursuit.

  Rebecca felt a secret little thrill. She saw the way both women and men stepped out of Lord Parkhurst’s way. He ignored them all, his every focus on her. Awareness was a prickling flush that started at the nape of her neck and spread along her body. She barely felt Susanna’s fingers clasping hard on her arm, as she had to look up and up as the earl came closer and closer. Good lord, he made her feel positively dainty.

  She’d been longing for something different to happen to her—and now here he was, large and bold and threatening beneath a veil of civility.

  Lady Rosa beamed at her daughters. She had the same shade of dark brown hair as Rebecca, with only a little gray to betray her age. Susanna had inherited her warm brown eyes. She was a striking woman, displaying the easy elegance of her birth, yet at the same time showing her compassion and strength. She’d endured the fear of losing Rebecca to countless childhood illnesses and suffered through a year believing her son dead. Her marriage had almost floundered under the weight of a lifetime of scandal, but Lady Rosa had emerged victorious. Now the only triumph she seemed to truly want was to see her daughters well—and happily—married. And Rebecca almost regretted that she could not appease her mother in such a way.

  “My dear girls, how pleased I am to find you together,” Lady Rosa said, beaming. “Lord Parkhurst, allow me to introduce my daughters, Miss Leland and Miss Rebecca Leland. Oh dear, I’ve already gone on so long about them, you probably feel as if you know everything there is to know!”

  Rebecca’s smile stiffened. Everything there was to know, indeed. Lord Parkhurst probably did think such a thing, especially after the way he’d studied the painting for what seemed like forever.

  And then it was as if she were in the dark, candlelit saloon again, standing too close to this giant of a man, meeting his intelligent, assessing gaze. He should seem out of place in this false garden, where people talked with little substance. Instead, she could imagine him one with the forest, hunting a beast of prey.

  And she realized that she was the prey.

  A flush of heat had her wondering if he could see her blush.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies,” the earl said, bowing his head politely. His voice was mild rather than challenging, though still deep and rumbling.

  She and her sister curtsied. Rebecca could feel some of Susanna’s tension subside. Up close and by the light of day, he seemed a bit…different. There were lines of strain across his forehead, as if he regularly frowned. His eyes were hooded, almost tired.

  Had he spent much of the night thinking about her, as she’d thought about him?

  No, she wasn’t worth that to him. He was a bored aristocrat who’d found something to amuse himself for a few days—a month at most, she reminded herself. Though he might look different, he was surely the same as every other man of her acquaintance.

  “Is this truly the first time we’ve spoken, Lord Parkhurst?” Rebecca asked politely. “I feel like I’ve seen you at several events.”

  “And I have seen you, Miss Leland.”

  He spoke with all politeness, but she heard another meaning in his words, and barely withheld a shiver.

  “I wish to congratulate you all on the miraculous return of Captain Leland,” he continued.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Lady Rosa said with a happy sigh. “I was…quite devastated by the loss of my son. With his return, my husband and I are restored in spirit and in our hearts. The captain is spending time with his cousins this month.”

  “Ah, so I heard,” he said, glancing at the Leland sisters. “The captain himself told me. We have had several shared investments recently.”

  Why hadn’t he said that he knew her brother last night? Rebecca wondered with annoyance. She was feeling more and more deflated. The earl was not so removed from Society. She only wanted him to be.

  “Did you meet my son at university?” Lady Rosa asked.

  Lord Parkhurst linked his hands behind his back, his appearance casual—far too casual. Rebecca sensed…something beneath the surface.

  “No, I did not, my lady.”

  “Ah, then you must have gone to Oxford. My husband lectures at Cambridge.”

  “I came into my title at eighteen,” Lord Parkhurst said. “I did not have time for much else.”

  Lady Rosa’s expression turned momentarily pained. “Do forgive me, my lord. I had forgotten that your father died so many years ago.”

  Rebecca looked b
etween them, curious at what wasn’t being said. But if she asked her mother for details later, Lady Rosa would think her interested, and never let her hear the end of it.

  To cover the vague unease she sensed in her mother, Rebecca said, “Our cousin, Madingley, did not attend university either, for exactly the same reason.”

  He nodded. “I remember that.”

  “Even though you are without an advanced education, my lord,” Lady Rosa said, “I hear men talking with much admiration of your knowledge and skill.”

  “Admiration is it now?” His wide mouth quirked in a faint smile. “That is putting it kindly. But yes, there is education to be had, even if it is self-motivated. Yet formal education is something that should be taken advantage of—as I keep telling my brothers.”

  “How many brothers do you have, my lord?” Rebecca asked.

  He glanced at her, those gray eyes impassive. “Two, Miss Rebecca, eighteen-year-old twins.”

  “Young then,” Susanna said, nodding. “I feel like my eighteenth birthday was so long ago.”

  Lady Rosa flashed her a mortified frown, as if Susanna should never allude to her advanced, unmarried age of twenty-seven.

  “Youth does not excuse common sense,” Lord Parkhurst said.

  “Perhaps they see that you do not have a university education, my lord,” Rebecca said, “and yet you seem to have survived.”

  They looked at each for a moment—a moment too long, for Lady Rosa’s brows rose.

  “Susanna, do escort me to the dessert table,” Lady Rosa said. “I am suddenly quite famished. Enjoy your afternoon, my lord.”

  Wearing an apologetic look, Susanna was led away.

  Julian watched the gaze exchanged between the two sisters and withheld his amusement. Susanna thought she was leaving Rebecca with the devil himself—and who could blame her, after their evening together?

  But Rebecca…he did not quite understand her mood. Last night, she’d been bold, in command, even fearless, though three men held her and her relatives practically captive. Today she was a subdued lady of the ton, patiently allowing her mother the lead, as any daughter who expected to be led to the altar would.

  “Lady Rosa did that quite neatly,” Julian remarked.

  “She has had much practice,” Rebecca said dryly.

  “Then I suggest we reward her.” He held out his arm. “Would you care to walk?”

  She eyed him, her eyes faintly devilish, her lips curved in a lovely smile. Then she placed her hand lightly on his arm. “I imagine I cannot come to harm in a conservatory.”

  “You could always scream,” he countered.

  “And find myself married before the week is out? I think not.”

  “Ah, you are crushing my self-esteem. Would not many young ladies wish to be married to an earl?”

  “Perhaps not many, for you are not married.”

  “By choice. And neither are you.”

  “Stating the obvious, my lord.”

  They walked quietly for several minutes, weaving their way out of sight of the other guests, although the murmur of voices never quite went away. At the rear of the conservatory, the glass separated them from the walled garden outside. They paused as if to admire it, but Julian knew she must not be thinking of the view.

  He was thinking of his view…of her. Her lovely rose-colored gown hugged her torso, revealing herself to be shaped much as she’d been painted. She was slender but not fragile, small, yet rounded. Her hair was styled artfully, curled, with carefully placed ribbons. Her bodice was high enough that he found himself wondering if she hid the Scandalous Lady beneath her garments.

  Patience, he reminded himself. He’d spent the morning speaking with people about her family. Though he’d heard of several of the family scandals, the Lelands and the Cabots certainly did not seem like thieves. And Rebecca was far too young to have stolen the diamond herself almost ten years before. So how had she come by it?

  He’d realized during the long night that the best way to discover answers to his questions was to earn her trust. He had diligently tried to be unassuming at the luncheon, wanting her to believe that his intensity of the previous evening was more about his overindulgence. And to some degree, that was true. He shouldn’t have intimidated her, standing too close, looking so menacing, which was always rather easy for him to do.

  She didn’t seem intimidated. She inhaled the scents of the flowers all around them, then exhaled almost on a sigh—but not a sigh of resignation. There was something very…unusual about her nonplussed reaction to the wager.

  But then again, only an unusual woman would pose for a nude portrait. He wondered how unfettered her morals truly were.

  And that aroused him far too much, he realized. He could not let himself dwell on her nudity, her lack of inhibitions. He had to focus on the Scandalous Lady, and bringing it back to its rightful owner—him.

  He began the hunt for information. “You and Miss Leland seem close to your cousin Lady Elizabeth.”

  She eyed him, a smile touching her full lips. “We are of an age, and we were raised together at Madingley Court.”

  “Your families all lived together?”

  “Have you seen Madingley Court?” she asked, amused.

  He nodded. “Ah, I see. The palace of a duke, of course. So you were not too crowded living together.”

  “Not at all,” she answered, searching his face with the faintest confusion.

  He knew she wondered at his motives, why he didn’t bring up the wager. And his talk of crowded living conditions revealed too much of his own childhood issues.

  “So the three of you were like sisters,” he said.

  “We still are,” she answered, her voice firm. “We support each other through anything.”

  “Obviously,” he said. “They risked much for you with their declaration last night.”

  “We would risk anything for each other.”

  “You’d risk exposure and humiliation?”

  He thought she’d drop her hand from his arm, but she didn’t, only looked up at him coolly.

  “Are you threatening such a thing?” she asked. “I would have thought you a gentleman.”

  “I am a gentleman, Miss Leland. But that painting does not make a gentleman remember the civilized part of his brain.”

  He felt her stiffen.

  “But then you knew that would happen when you posed,” he continued mildly. “Or did you not think beyond a momentary thrill? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “Are you lecturing me, my lord? A true gentleman would protect a lady’s sensibilities, would forget the things he’d seen.”

  “You have not displayed a lady’s sensibilities, have you?”

  She dropped her hand and faced him now, speaking in a low voice, her hazel eyes flashing. “Now you’re offending me. You know nothing about me.”

  “I would like to.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You want to win a wager with your silly friends.”

  “Which you and your silly female relatives made possible by your behavior last night.”

  “How disapproving you sound, my lord.”

  “No, I am simply stating a fact. Your guilt makes you believe that everyone is censorious.”

  “Guilt?” she cried, then looked down the path and lowered her voice. “I feel no guilt whatsoever.”

  “Then why else would you attempt to steal the painting?”

  “For the simple reason that it was supposed to be in France, not here where people who know me will see it.”

  “Then why pose, Miss Leland? Why risk it?”

  She paused, and in her mercurial eyes, he could see her weighing what to reveal. He waited almost impatiently—and he was never an impatient man. Then to his surprise, she stepped closer. He could feel the heat from her body, imagined how it would feel with just another step, as she pressed against him. His logical brain threatened to shut down, and that had never happened to him.

  “Did you ever just want to be
adventurous, my lord?” she asked softly.

  IN PURSUIT OF A SCANDALOUS LADY

  by Gayle Callen

  On sale now from Avon Books

  About the Authors

  CATHERINE ANDERSON, the award-winning author of both contemporary and historical fiction, lives with her husband and three canine friends—a mixed spaniel named Kibbles and two Rottweilers named Sam and Sassy, who seem to think they are teacup poodles and that obedience training is for people.

  LORETTA CHASE holds a B.A. from Clark University, where she majored in English and minored unofficially in visual art. Her past lives include clerical, administrative, and part-time teaching at Clark and a Dickensian six-month experience as a meter maid. In the course of moonlighting as a corporate video scriptwriter, she fell under the spell of a producer who lured her into writing novels…and marrying him. The union has resulted in more than a dozen books and a number of awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s Rita® Award. You can talk to Loretta via her email address [email protected], visit her website at www.LorettaChase.com, and blog with her and six other authors at WordWenches.com.

  It was SAMANTHA JAMES’s love of reading as a child that steered her toward a writing career. Among her favorites in those days were the Trixie Belden and Cherry Ames series of books. She still loves a blend of mystery and romance, and, of course, a happily-ever-after ending. The award-wining, bestselling author of eighteen romances and one novella, her books have ranged from medieval to Regency to the American West. Please visit her on the web at www.samanthajames.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

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