The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2012 Laura Landon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance
P.O. Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781612184784
ISBN-10: 1612184782
To all my readers. You are the best! Thank you!
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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
About the Author
Prologue
London, England
May 16, 1852
You have to help me, Jonah. You simply must! Jonah Armstrong, the second son of the Earl of Haywood, looked at the pleading panic in Melisande’s huge blue eyes and felt himself weaken.
He couldn’t.
He detached Melisande’s clutching fingers from his sleeves and took a step away from her.
“I can’t, Melisande. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Yes, there is! You can take me to Gretna Green. When we return, you can tell Father you’ve married me.”
Jonah fought an overwhelming sense of panic. “I can’t marry you. I don’t love you. Nor do you love me.”
Melisande stomped her dainty blue slipper and glared at him with the fire he was used to seeing when the spoiled only daughter of the Marquess of Kendall didn’t get her way.
“I don’t love Hadleigh, either, but my father expects me to marry him!”
Jonah attempted reason, although he was sure it wouldn’t help. It never had with Melisande. “I would think you’d consider Hadleigh a good match. The three of us grew up together. You’ve known him your whole life.”
“Of course I’ve known him my whole life,” she answered, pacing a small area in Lady Camphort’s garden. “Which is precisely why Father shouldn’t expect me to marry him. He and I aren’t at all suited.”
Melisande reminded him of a caged animal pacing its too-confining cage. “Hadleigh is a wonderful choice,” Jonah said, making an attempt to point out Hadleigh’s attributes. “You will never lack for anything. He’s intelligent, has an excellent head for investments, and many already look to him for advice on a number of topics. Besides, he’s a duke. What more could you ask for in a husband?”
Melisande stopped pacing and glared at him with the most appalled expression he’d ever seen on her face.
“Do you think I care a fig whether my husband has an excellent head on his shoulders? Or whether he’s intelligent? Or whether he’s sought out for advice? Intelligent men make the worst sort of husbands. Everyone knows that.”
Jonah studied Melisande for a moment before he asked, “Then what are you looking for in a husband?”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Very well, the fact that I would be a duchess is worth something, I suppose. As is the fact that he’s relatively handsome, as far as looks are concerned.”
“But?”
“You know Hadleigh as well as I. We grew up together. We spent our childhoods together.”
“That should be a point in Hadleigh’s favor.”
Melisande threw her arms up in disgust. “Hardly!”
She paced the tiny area again, the skirt of her expensive gown snagging against Lady Camphort’s prize rosebushes. Jonah heard the glittery material rip with each pass, but Melisande didn’t seem to care.
“Please, calm down.” He reached out to slow her agitated footsteps, but she slapped his hands away as if she didn’t want his sympathy or his understanding. The spoiled female had always had a temper. He and Hadleigh had witnessed it often. But Jonah had never seen her as agitated as this.
“How can I calm down? I’ve never been more desperate than I am at this moment. I refuse to marry Hadleigh. I refuse!”
“I can’t see why,” Jonah said again. “You know him better than any other suitor who has asked for your hand.”
“That’s just the point. I know what he’s really like. He’s opinionated and domineering, and he’ll rule me with an iron hand. Don’t you remember how it was when we plotted ways to escape the tutors his father employed to give us an education? We always had to go along with what Hadleigh decided. He wouldn’t give up until we did.” She paced around a bed of beautiful asters, this time coming perilously close to stepping on the blossoms. “The same was true when we plotted ways to avoid that ugly, bratty sister of his. Hadleigh always decided where we’d hide to escape her, and we had to go along with what he said.”
“That’s because Hadleigh came up with the best idea.”
“Oh, leave it to you to stand up for him. You were always his most loyal follower.”
Jonah frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re so repulsed by him. You used to be quite fond of him. And how can you say his sister was ugly? She wasn’t. She was simply at an awkward age. Besides, she only wanted to be included, and looking back, even you have to admit we were cruel not to include her.”
“We were no such thing!”
Melisande fired her denial in a voice that hardly sounded like the lady Jonah knew she’d been raised to be.
“She was a ghastly brat. She should have been drowned at birth. Serves Hadleigh right. Now he’s going to have to find some unsuspecting fool who’s blind as well as desperate for her money who will stoop to marry her. She’ll never find a husband on her own.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“Can’t I? Have you seen her? If I were Hadleigh, I wouldn’t even acknowledge her. She’s nothing at all to look at.”
Jonah stopped. For the first time, he looked at Melisande—really looked at her. When had her thoughts turned so cruel? When had she begun to consider herself so elevated? And everyone else so far beneath her?
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she fired at him. “You thought the same thing. We all did. She’s as repulsive as that clumsy, bookish Amanda Radburn you always see her with.”
He couldn’t believe Melisande had become so hard, that she exhibited so little concern for others. How had this happened?
Suddenly, he knew. The change hadn’t just happened.
She’d always had those traits. It’s just that he’d never noticed them because he’d been enamored by her incomparable beauty, the same as everyone else.
Tonight, though, she didn’t seem nearly so beautiful.
“Why have you chosen me to free you from the betrothal agreement your father and Hadleigh signed?”
“Because we’re friends. You owe me.”
“I owe you?”
“Well, perhaps you don’t owe me,” she said, the tone of her voice turning softer, the expression on her face more demure. “But you had to realize that Hadleigh’s and my association with you opened doors that wouldn’t ordinarily have been opened.”
Jonah fought the budding anger inside him. “How did Hadleigh’s association with me—or with you, for t
hat matter—open any doors?”
“Oh, Jonah, don’t be obtuse. Everyone knows that Hadleigh is rich as Croesus. So is my father. And they come from the finest bloodlines.”
“And me?”
Jonah unclenched his fists and pretended Melisande’s comparison hadn’t affected him like a vicious slap across the face. Even though it had.
“Well, you are only a second son. And your father was never known to invest his money wisely. Which is another reason you should jump at the chance to marry me.”
“That would be advantageous, now, wouldn’t it?” he answered, his mockery totally unnoticed by her.
“Of course it would. See, I knew you’d see it my way. I knew you’d realize the advantages of marrying me.”
“In case I’ve missed something, though, why don’t you spell out all the advantages for me?”
She sighed in frustration. “Oh, very well. There’s the money, of course. With the dowry my father intends to give the fortunate man who marries me, you’d be able to cover the insurmountable debts your father is amassing every day.”
Jonah was shocked. “How are you aware of the debts my father has?”
“Everyone knows how poorly your father manages money. Your brother, too. With the money that would come with my hand, you’d be able to make the necessary repairs to your family estate. It’s a disgrace, you know.”
“Would it be acceptable enough for you to live in one day?”
“Surely you’re joking?” Her expression was truly one of shock. “I could never make that my home. It’s hardly habitable. I wouldn’t dare consider it, not when I’ve been left a wonderful manor home to which to go when I’m not in London. It’s perfect for hosting summer parties. Much better than any place you could provide.”
“I see.” He settled back on his heels to look at this person he’d watched mature into what he’d considered a beauty of the highest degree.
Unfortunately, her beauty only radiated on the outside. He didn’t like anything he saw on the inside.
“Then, of course,” she said with a seductive smile on her face, “there’s me.”
“You?”
“Yes.” Her voice held a hint of frustration. “Any man would consider himself most fortunate to have me as his wife. You would be the envy of every man in London.”
“And Hadleigh? Doesn’t it bother you that he idolizes you? That he’s been in love with you forever? That you’re the only woman he’s ever wanted to marry?”
“Oh, pshaw.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “He’ll get over his infatuation with me. They all do.”
“But he worships you. He has since we were young. He’s talked of nothing but making you his wife. He’s—”
“He’s a boor! He doesn’t want to marry me. He wants to own me. He wants to tell me every single thing to do and have me jump whenever he gives an order.”
She paced again. The tearing sounds as the expensive material of her skirts caught on the thorns of the rosebushes screamed like irritating scratches on a windowpane.
“He’s authoritative and domineering. And he never sees anything the same as I do. Once he makes a decision, he refuses to see any other point.”
“In other words, he doesn’t let you constantly have your way.”
“He’s cruel! He’s opinionated. He’s totally unsuitable!”
“And me?”
Her facial features softened. “You’re much more amiable. You always have been. I could always get along with you.”
“You mean you could always wrap me around your finger.”
She stomped her foot on the ground. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“What advantages would you have if we married, Melisande?”
“I don’t like it when you use that tone of voice. You only talk like that when you’re upset with me.”
The pout of her full lips and the sad expression on her face were skillful acts she’d practiced to perfection.
“Very well.” He softened his voice. “What advantages would you gain from our marriage?”
“You know perfectly well. I’d avoid marrying a tyrant.”
“You never know. Maybe I’d be as much a tyrant as Hadleigh.”
“No.” She shook her head hard enough that several of her golden curls fell from their pins. “You’re much more agreeable than he is. Hadleigh is unyielding. He’s got such high standards for his wife. No woman could meet them. No one.”
“Not even you?”
Melisande laughed. “No, not even me.”
There was a look on her face, an odd expression that gave him cause for concern. “Why, Melisande?” He clutched her upper arms. He didn’t hold her tight enough to hurt her, just firm enough to let her know he was serious. “Why don’t you think you could meet his standards?”
He held her in front of him and looked her in the eyes. But she didn’t look at him. Instead, she clamped her lips tight and focused her gaze on the ground to her left.
“You can hardly expect me to marry you without telling me exactly why you would refuse the opportunity to be a duchess whose husband is rich as Croesus and choose instead the second son of an impoverished earl who is one step away from losing the very roof over his head.”
“But my dowry could save your father and your estate.”
“Why do I think you don’t care one fig about my father or the estate, but that you only want to be married? And soon.”
“Because I do. And I don’t want to marry Hadleigh. I want to marry you. Tonight. Now!”
“Why?”
“Because”—she pounded a dainty fist against her skirt—“because…because I must!”
“Why?”
She paced more rapidly, as if weighing what she was going to say. With a sharp turn, she spun around and faced him.
“Oh, very well. I see you are giving me no choice but to tell you all.” She lifted her chin and gave him a defiant look filled with superiority. “I need to marry because I am expecting a child.”
To say her words shocked him was an understatement. “You’re what?”
“It happens, you know,” she said with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. “And don’t suggest I use one of those potions some magic herb-healer has to rid one’s body of an unwanted babe. Women die more often than not.” She placed her fists on her hips and glared at him. “And I have no intention of giving up my life to avoid a little scandal.”
“So you would choose to marry someone you don’t love, and who doesn’t love you, rather than marry a man who has already asked for your hand and who in truth already loves you?” He couldn’t come up with a logical reason. “Why?”
“You’re jesting, am I correct?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Exactly what do you think Hadleigh’s reaction would be when he discovered the woman he married is having another man’s child? When he discovers his wife is presenting him with the next Hadleigh heir—except the child isn’t his?”
“Whose child is it?”
For the first time, Melisande had the good sense to look embarrassed. “That hardly matters now. Let’s just say that the brat’s father is not in a position to make me his bride.”
“He already has a wife.”
“Don’t make this difficult, Jonah. Of course he has a wife. Do you think I’d give myself to a man who could trap me into marriage?”
He shook his head again, more in disgust than as an answer to her question.
“Now, hurry.” She clamped the fingers of one of her hands around the sleeve of his jacket. “We don’t have much time. We have to leave as quickly as possible. Father intends to announce my betrothal to Hadleigh tonight.”
He shook his head as he pulled out of her grasp.
“Don’t be a fool, Jonah. Marriage to me will give you everything you need. Enough money to repair that dilapidated estate of yours. A beautiful bride. Plus, more money than you can ever spend. Surely that’s payment enough for any extra baggage
I bring with me.”
He looked at her in disbelief, then remembered Hadleigh’s short temper when he’d last talked to him. “You wouldn’t know why Hadleigh thinks there might be something between you and me that he has to worry over, would you, Melisande?”
“Of course not,” she answered, but he knew she was lying.
“Melisande?”
“Oh, very well,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Perhaps I did hint that something more than friendship had developed between us.”
“You what!”
“Well, I had to take the first step in convincing Hadleigh I wasn’t worthy to be his duchess.”
“Did it ever occur to you that your plan could backfire?”
“Backfre?”
“Yes. Instead of Hadleigh thinking that you might have a character flaw, he’s convinced you’ve been taken advantage of. He’s more determined than ever to marry you so he can protect you. And,” he added with an anger he didn’t bother to hide, “he’s convinced that I am now his competition. He’s more than a little angry at me, I can tell you.”
The word that came from Melisande’s mouth wasn’t one he’d have thought she knew, let alone used. His opinion of her dropped another level.
“I think you should explain your…dilemma and let Hadleigh and your father decide what is the best way to handle your situation.”
Her gaze narrowed, and Jonah saw Melisande’s desperation. “Don’t you dare become Hadleigh’s champion or pretend to give me sage advice. You will get much more from this relationship than I.”
“Will I?” He tried to keep the disgust he felt from his voice but knew he failed.
“I’m desperate. Hadleigh is probably looking for me right now so Father can make his grand announcement. Once he finds me, it will be too late!”
“It’s already too late,” he said, hoping she’d realize that was his answer.
“No! I need your name. I need you to marry me!”
He tried to hold her off, but she grasped him with both hands, showing remarkable strength. Her fingers dug through the material of his jacket and into his arms.
He pried her fingers away and stepped out of her reach. She stumbled backward and tripped over the hem of her gown. She wobbled, overcompensated, and fell to her knees in front of him.
The Most to Lose Page 1
