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The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2

Page 62

by MacMurrough, Sorcha


  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  AFTERWORD

  ALL TITLES BY AUTHOR

  SYNOPSIS

  December 21, 1814

  The South of England

  The ultimate temptation!

  Dr. Blake Sanderson, married to his career and determined to alleviate the plight of the poor, never imagines he will wed or have a family until his friend Peter asks him to become the guardian of his step-sister Arabella.

  Blake recalls her as a small child. The lovely raven-haired eighteen-year old he is presented with turns his entire life upside down.

  For as all of the most eligible bachelors in London and Somerset pursue Arabella, Blake realizes that he has fallen in love with the one woman society and convention forbid him to have.

  Arabella meets handsome Dr. Sanderson at the site of a tragic accident. He is the only man she has ever been interested in. He's a gentleman after her own heart, dedicated to the poor, and passionate under his rigidly controlled exterior.

  When she discovers Blake is to be her guardian, she is devastated. As her friends parade beau after beau in front of her, Arabella becomes certain Blake is the only man she can ever respect, esteem and desire enough to marry.

  But how can she convince Blake of this before their enemies move in to tear them apart forever?

  REVIEWS

  This remarkably talented author has surpassed herself. Her heroes and heroines are endlessly fascinating, with such realism that we really feel all the ups and downs of their falling in love as if they are close friends.

  Blake is a noble hero, and Arabella a strong woman, warm and loving, but with a resilient streak which is tested to the limit as her suddenly peaceful world erupts into a nightmarish hell from which she and her beloved must fight to free themselves from through the depth of their love. Adventure, passion, suspense, mystery, and the most erotic love scenes, all combine in this unforgettable romance.

  -Evelyn Trimborn

  Absolutely superb. The author has created the most amazing couple, and their love lights up the pages of this excellent Regency romance. The lurid Gothic elements are spine-chilling, and their passion toe-curling. And of course, their Rakehell friends lend a hand to help along the course of true love. If ever a couple deserved their happily ever after, it's Blake and Arabella. I hung on every word as I read. This is one novel you will not be able to put down.

  -Annabelle Stevens

  GUARDIAN OF THE HEART

  A Rakehell Regency Romance Novel

  Sorcha MacMurrough

  HerStory Books

  Copyright the author 2004

  Second edition with all new material, 2008

  Third Edition, 2011

  Fourth Edition 2012

  All rights reserved. Under the 1988 UK copyright laws, the author asserts the right to be identified as the creator of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-58345-109-0

  Published by HerStory Books

  New York, NY 10011

  http://HerStoryBooks.com

  HerStory Books is pleased to publish high-quality romances in a variety of genres. Please visit us online for the latest titles, and a free newsletter, free novels and short stories, and more: http://herstorybooks.com/category/xciting-free-reads

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  Happy Reading!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sorcha MacMurrough is a multi-published author from Ireland who has taught English literature and English and Irish history. She has lived all over the UK and Ireland, including London, Edinburgh, and Dublin. Her favorite cities to live in or visit are Bath and York. She loves old houses, castles and estates and can usually be found touring these locales to help make all of her settings come alive for the reader. Sorcha loves the Regency period and the Napoleonic era in particular, which form the beginning of the modern world as we know it.

  Her novels have been chosen as monthly "Top Picks" by Romantic Times, and she has also been nominated for a Reviewer's Choice award for best novel of the year by Romantic Times. When she is not writing, researching and teaching, she cooks, knits Aran sweaters, and enjoys spending time with her large family. She loves Irish dancing and music, and beachcombing on the shores of Donegal, Sligo and Galway.

  Dedication

  To all my friends and family, who don't get to see or hear from me nearly as often as they would wish. And to my readers, who make it all worthwhile.

  CAST OF MAIN CHARACTERS

  Dr. Blake Sanderson, a Rakehell, a doctor in London, heir to Jerome Hall

  Captain Peter Davison, Blake's friend from his college days, Arabella's step-brother

  Miss Arabella Neville, Peter's step-sister

  Adam Neville, Arabella's eldest cousin

  Oliver Neville, Arabella's younger cousin

  Rosalie Crane Stanton, Blake's former fiancee

  Leonore Ross, Blake's former mistress

  Mr. and Mrs. Jerome, Present owners of Jerome Hall

  Alfred Jerome, their heir, now deceased

  Emma Jerome, his sister, also recently deceased

  Ellen and Georgina, Alfred and Emma's two youngest sisters

  Martin, their cousin

  Samuel, his younger brother

  Michael Avenel, a Rakehell, crippled former soldier, lives in Bath, special friends with Blake

  Philip Marshall, a Rakehell, a man about Town in London, special friends with Thomas Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere

  Henry Stone, Clifford Stones's younger brother, resides in at Stone Court in Millcote

  Josephine Stone, nee Jerome, his wife, Ellen and Georgina's eldest sister

  Malcolm Branson, friend of the Stones, works with his father, was engaged to Emma Jerome before her death

  Geoffrey Branson, Malcolm's father, local magistrate at Millcote

  Clifford Stone, a Rakehell, owner of Stone Court

  Vanessa Stone, nee Hawkesworth, his wife, a great scholar

  (for their story, see The Mad Mistress)

  The Duke of Ellesmere, Thomas Eltham, a Rakehell, lives at Eltham Castle

  The Duchess of Ellesmere, Charlotte Eltham, nee Castlemaine, his wife

  (for their story, see The Missed Match)

  Stewart Fitzgerald, the Duke of Clancar, Thomas Eltham's cousin

  Vevina Joyce Fitzgerald, wealthy Irish heiress

  (for their story, see Scars Upon Her Hear)

  Colonel Wilfred Joyce, Vevina's brother

  Elizabeth Eltham, Thomas's younger sister

  (for their story, see The Scarred Heart)

  Major Geoffrey Parks, Wil
fred's best friend

  Jonathan Deveril, a Rakehell, vicar of Brimley and Eltham

  Pamela Deveril, nee Ashton, his wife

  (for their story, see The Miss Matched)

  Sarah Deveril Davenport, Jonathan's youngest sister

  Jason Alexander Deveril Davenport, (Alexander), her husband

  (for their story, see The Matchless Miss)

  Alistair Grant, a Rakehell, a barrister in London

  GUARDIAN OF THE HEART

  CHAPTER ONE

  December 21, 1814

  A mail coach riding at a breakneck pace over the rutted road to London in winter was not the most luxurious way to travel. But Arabella Neville, lost in her worries, hardly noticed the discomfort as she huddled in her cloak in the facing seat.

  Every so often she peeped out at the frozen landscape as they jolted along. Thus far, after two days of her journey from Somerset, she had not had any traveling companion linger with her for more than a few stops heading toward the capital.

  Earlier that morning the reserved, brown-haired Mr. Greengage had come on board a few stops prior to Reading. He sat opposite her with his back to the driver and had behaved in all respects in a most gentlemanly manner ever since.

  He had been entertaining enough to help her pass the time. There was little to do otherwise, for on this, the shortest day of the year, the sky was grimly gray, and she could smell the snow in the air.

  "Your business must be quite urgent to take you out in such inclement weather," Mr. Greengage said politely. He refrained from adding, All by yourself, but his question hung heavy in the air.

  If only he knew. She gave the mild-looking man an assessing glance. He was handsome enough in a florid way, about mid-thirties. Professional. Solicitor by the look of him. "One could say the same of you, sir. I've been on the road for the past two days and am completing the final leg of my journey."

  "I've been called to the side of a sick relative, and I was going to Town in any event to celebrate Christmas."

  "Are you from London?"

  He nodded. "Do you know the city well?"

  "Not very well. I usually travel with my brother. He will be meeting me once I arrive," she lied.

  She offered up a prayer that her step-brother Peter had not left for India yet. Surely she could convince him to see reason. Could persuade him not to leave her with a complete stranger as her guardian when she was old enough to tend to her own affairs.

  Perhaps she could even persuade him to take her along. The Army could not be so cruel as to part them again when Peter had only just returned from the Continent, even though the war with Bonaparte had been over since April.

  "If he fails to arrive, you must allow me to escort you to his home. It's unwise to wander about the streets of London alone."

  "'Tis but a short cab ride from the coach depot, so I have no fears, sir. But thank you for the offer all the same."

  "Not at all. It's the least I can do." He shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable. "Dash it, these seats aren't very cozy."

  "At least we're not being jounced about too badly. Nor is it crowded."

  "No, that's one saving grace." He stopped to listen, his head raised in alarm. "Goodness me, that sounds like thunder."

  They lifted the shade to peer out the window and saw lightning streak the dark gray sky.

  "Oh my," she breathed, startled by the ferocity of the flashing jagged forks and the accompanying booms of thunder which made the very carriage tremble. She sat back abruptly, ringing her hands.

  Within two minutes, they heard a rattling on the roof of the coach and peered out again.

  "Look at the size of those hailstones!" Mr. Greengage exclaimed.

  "The poor driver, and the animals in the field."

  "Poor driver all right, and the postillion too. The storm is lashing it down."

  The coach perforce had to slow, for the two men responsible for it were undoubtedly trying to protect themselves from the frozen missiles, see where they were going, and keep control of the horses all at the same time.

  Arabella held her breath until the rattling finally stopped a few moments later. She and Mr. Greengage looked at each other and both heaved a sigh of relief.

  But within ten minutes, just as they stopped to get a hot drink, warm up, and change the coals in the two footwarmers at a roadside inn, huge white flakes began to waft down from the heavens.

  By the time they were finally warm, had had some refreshment, and changed horses, the flurry had become a steady fall of snow.

  The coach driver stomped in through the door of the snug parlor, shedding clumps of snow with every footfall. "We have to get the mails through no matter what," he said, rubbing his hands to restore the circulation to his numbed fingers. "Up to you if you want to go or stay. But you've got five minutes to decide."

  Mr. Greengage and Arabella glanced at each other. Both shrugged.

  "I must see my brother," she said. She smoothed her ebony hair and rose to wrap herself in her outerwear once more.

  "And I need to see my uncle."

  "Well, then, tell the servants to pack the footwarmers to the brim, and let's go," the driver said, before sweeping off again.

  "I'm just going to get some brandy, bread, and cheese for the journey. It will be bad enough being cold, without being hungry and thirsty too."

  She nodded. "Good idea."

  Arabella also bought some bread, meat, cheese and a large bottle of ginger beer for herself as well. Armed with her wrapped parcel, she climbed back into the interior of the coach.

  She soon bundled her gloves and bonnet back on, and huddled under the traveling rugs with her feet on her warmer. At least she had on a good thick merino wool gown and some heavy woollen stockings and flannel petticoats. She felt sorry for the men in this weather with just their trousers and perhaps some winter underthings.

  Mr. Greengage came in a few moments later with his own parcel and two large stone hot water bottles wrapped in burlap. He tucked one on either side of her, and sat next to the one in the middle of the seat. He drew his own traveling rug over them both.

  "Pardon the liberty in sitting next to you, but we need to make the best of this bad circumstance. I've not seen snow like this since I was a child."

  She thanked him graciously, and hugged the warmth of the bottle on her own side.

  He was not menacing in any way, but for the first time she questioned the wisdom of having set off on this journey so hastily, without so much as a serving maid for company.

  "How much farther until our next rest?"

  "Another fifteen miles to go before our overnight stop, if I'm not mistaken."

  Her ebony brows knit in consternation. It sounded awafully far all of a sudden. "Let's hope the storm eases soon."

  The driver whipped up the horses and headed out onto the main road. Soon they were plunging along the icy thoroughfare as fast as he could drive the team. Some patches were muddy and boggy, others frozen solid and slick with ice.

  Arabella clung to the leather strap next to her head and tried not to panic. The coachmen were experienced, and did this sort of thing all the time. All would be well, she was sure.

  Arabella was warm enough, but even she, who counted herself a good traveler, was starting to feel queasy at all the erratic lurchings of the vehicle.

  The wind began to howl, and the sky to turn almost as dark as night, though it was only about three in the afternoon.

  "Well, it is the winter solstice," Mr. Greengage reminded her as they clung onto their straps to keep their seats, when she commented on the sudden darkness. "The shortest day of the year."

  "Do you think we'll stop soon?" she called above the incessant rattle of the coach and howl of the wind.

  "Not until about four o'clock. The next village is some distance away, seven miles at a guess."

  "Perhaps the driver will decide to stop there for the night rather than try to press on."

  He shrugged one shoulder. "It migh
t be for the best. Then again, the storm could dissipate as suddenly as it began."

  He peered out for a moment, then released the shade once more, plunging them into almost total darkness.

 

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