Harlequin Historical February 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Texas Ranger's DaughterHaunted by the Earl's TouchThe Last De Burgh

by Jenna Kernan

  Finding this Mrs Ladbrook might be the key. But if Templeton couldn’t locate her, no one could. Then he would give her a school of her own.

  Nearby. Where he could keep an eye on her. A school and a salary large enough to keep her in luxury. He would then have the excuse to ride over and see her from time to time, to inspect his investment.

  His throat dried. She might not welcome visits from the bastard earl.

  All right. He would have his reports second-hand. He would know she was safe, and from a distance he could protect her from harm.

  The ache in his chest eased slightly.

  And what if she found a man she did want to marry? What then? The thought of another man with the right to engage her wit in conversation whenever the mood took him, the right to touch her silken skin and arouse her passion... No. He would not think of his needs. This was about her happiness. Nothing else mattered.

  Something burned behind his eyes.

  He felt like a boy again, mourning his mother. Only this time, he knew it was different. There was no anger to balance the pain. No one else to blame.

  * * *

  ‘You sent for me, my lord?’

  Bane put down his pen and looked up. How was it that when she walked into a room she made it come alive? Or was it only him who came alive?

  At this moment she looked worried. Expecting he would prevent her departure on the morrow, just as he had prevented it today, no doubt. She thought him that kind of cur. And he didn’t blame her.

  ‘Please, sit.’

  She did so, sinking into the chair in front of his desk with natural elegance, her long slender limbs bending to her will, when he would much rather they would bend to his, her face calm and still, her eyes a deep shadowed blue.

  Perhaps he shouldn’t bother her with this, but she wouldn’t thank him for making her decision for her. ‘I found something among the papers Gerald tried to destroy. You might find it of interest.’ He passed over the piece of parchment he’d read with astonishment only half an hour before.

  Swiftly, she scanned the yellowed paper. A gasp left her lips as she raised her gaze to meet his. It was filled with wonder and disbelief. ‘But this is...’ She looked at it again.

  ‘From your father. It was he who consigned you to the earl’s care, in payment for some earlier favour. I am assuming our marriage was what was promised.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, her whisper husky, her eyes still fixed on the words. The paper trembled in her fingers. ‘Oh.’

  Tears tracked down her cheeks.

  He’d made her cry. He’d thought she might be interested. Or even pleased. Tears he had not expected. He wanted to hit something. Better that than giving way to the pain at the sight of her anguish.

  He got up slowly, afraid he might make things worse. ‘Mary,’ he whispered. He came around the desk to her side, put a comforting hand on her shoulder and was glad when she didn’t pull away. He dropped to his knees, put his head close to hers. ‘Mary, please. I would not have shown you this if I thought it would upset you.’

  She swallowed and choked on an apologetic laugh. ‘You don’t understand. I’m not upset.’

  With her shoulders hunched and one hand covering her eyes, she looked the very picture of misery. ‘You are crying.’

  She raised her head and her watery gaze met his. ‘Don’t you see what this means?’

  ‘Your father undertook some sort of service for the old earl and this letter calls the favour in.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I mean, yes, that is what is says. But it also says he loved me. He says my beloved daughter. In his last moments in this life, he thought of me, his beloved daughter.’

  He frowned. ‘Of course he did. You were his child.’

  A tremble quaked her body. ‘I didn’t know. I understood he had sent me away when my mother died. That he didn’t want me. To know that I was loved...’ Her voice cracked and broke. She buried her face in her hands.

  Bane remembered all the hugs and sweet kisses on his brow from his mother when he was young and swallowed the hot hard lump in his throat. He’d known without even thinking about it that he was loved. He’d known love in its purest form, even if he had lost it too soon. For years, he had shut himself off from its memory. Built walls of cold anger to keep the guilt at bay. The guilt for his part in his mother’s death. Now those walls were shattered, leaving him with his memories and vulnerable to her hurt.

  ‘Mary,’ he whispered. He swallowed again, for the words had been so long closed off. He cradled her face in hands that felt awkward and over large. ‘My darling. Look at me.’ A flood of emotion washed over him. Hope. Joy. And, yes, sweet warm love. They constricted his throat as her gaze met his. ‘Of course he loved you. I love you.’

  He stilled, shocked by the sound of what he had said. Shocked by the fact that he had dared to put his feelings into words. ‘I love your wit and your courage. I love your beauty. But most of all I love you.’

  Her mouth trembled as her gazed searched his face. ‘Please. I don’t need your kindness.’

  ‘When have I ever been kind to you?’ He brushed his mouth against hers. His lips tingled at this briefest of touches, wanting more. ‘It is I who needs kindness. All morning I’ve been plotting ways to keep you close, building a cage from which you could not escape. But I just couldn’t do it, sweet. It seems I can’t keep you against your will. I want you to be happy.’ He groaned. ‘But God, I don’t want to lose you.’

  ‘Oh, Bane.’ She flung her arms about his neck and sobbed against his shoulder.

  He’d made her cry yet again. He was an idiot. He’d made things worse. Awkwardly he patted her back. Forced himself not to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until she forgot his promise to let her leave. He had wooed her with seduction once, he would not lower himself to doing it again.

  Slowly her sobs subsided.

  He handed her his handkerchief and stood up while she dried her eyes.

  ‘You meant what you said about letting me leave?’ she asked in a shaky whisper and the glimmer of a smile.

  He nodded. The damnable lump in his throat did not allow for speech, but his eyes drank her in and he realised this would likely be the last time he would ever have a chance to be this close to her.

  ‘And if I wanted to stay?’

  His heart stopped beating. He swallowed. ‘Stay?’ God, was that croak actually a word?

  She stood up and, as always, he marvelled at how perfect was her stature, how elegant her neck, how feminine her figure. He had never seen her look more lovely, though her nose was red from weeping and her eyes still misty with tears.

  To his surprise, she placed her hand against his cheek. Without thinking, he turned his face and kissed her palm before her hand fell away.

  He felt its loss keenly.

  ‘I lied,’ she said so softly he had to lean closer to hear her words. ‘To you. To myself. I told myself I was trapped in this house by a man I didn’t trust with my life.’

  ‘You had every reason—’

  She stopped his words with a finger to his lips. ‘My heart knew what my mind did not. It always knew to trust you. If not, I would have found a way to leave that very first day.’ A small smile curved her lovely mouth. ‘I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you standing in the shadows like some dark avenging angel.’

  Warmth trickled into all the remaining cold places in his heart. Her warmth. Her generous spirit. ‘You are saying you love me in return?’ he asked cautiously, fearing he had misunderstood.

  Her smile broadened. ‘Yes, Bane. I am saying I love you.’

  He felt his way forwards with care. ‘Then you mean to stay? To marry me?’

  ‘If you truly love me and want me.’

  He crushed her against his chest, feeling the pounding
of his heart against his ribs. But did she really know what she was getting into with him? ‘I almost got you killed. I wanted to keep you safe and I almost got you killed the way I did my mother. If I had done the same to you, I would have gone mad.’

  She pushed back to look at him, a question in her eyes.

  All the old guilt rushed back. ‘I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve anyone’s love.’

  ‘You don’t get to choose who loves you.’

  ‘You would not, if you knew the truth.’ Painful though it was, he forced himself to remember that dreadful day when his life changed for ever. ‘I was ten. We had an argument. I ran off in a temper to the mine with some of the local boys. She hated me going anywhere near it, but the other boys always taunted me about being a coward and it seemed like a good way to get my own back. It got late and she came looking for me.’

  He inhaled a deep ragged breath. ‘We walked home in the dark, her trudging along behind me, because I was angry that she’d shamed me before my so-called friends. We were set upon by thieves. Big men. They held me down and they beat her. And there was nothing I could do. I could hear her crying out and the blows...’ The sickening sound rang in his ears. ‘I felt so helpless. She died of her injuries weeks later and not once did she berate me. But I knew. I knew it was all my doing. My temper that caused her death. I swore it would never happen again.’

  ‘So that is why you always seem so cold and controlled.’

  Her understanding was extraordinary. He let go a sigh. ‘Always, until I met you.’

  She smiled softly. But he hardened himself against his longing to kiss her. He wasn’t done.

  ‘I very nearly caused your death, too! What if you had died? I froze out the world after the death of my mother. Life would be unbearable if anything happened to you.’

  ‘What happened to your mother wasn’t your fault. Nor was what Gerald did.’

  ‘I know that. Yet in my heart I failed my mother and I failed you. How can you trust me to keep you safe?’

  ‘I don’t need you to keep me safe, I need your love.’

  The truth of it was blinding. He almost fell to his knees at the revelation. Yet even as the fear was vanquished, more doubts surfaced.

  ‘I’ll never be fully accepted in society,’ he forced himself to warn her.

  ‘I don’t care about society. I only care about you.’

  ‘What about children?’

  ‘I want children.’ She tipped up her face to kiss his cheek. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. I want your children. But...but I don’t know whose blood runs in my veins. I could be a Beresford, as my mother swore, or the son of a villain.’

  ‘And I am the daughter of a vicar. The mixture will be interesting, I am sure.’

  He looked at her beautiful mouth with longing. ‘You are determined, then?’

  ‘Am I ever anything else?’

  No, thank God. He kissed her until he was dizzy with wanting her in his bed. It was all he could do not to carry her off to his chamber and make sure this was not all a dream. Make sure she could never change her mind. But there was a better way to do that.

  ‘We will take that passage to London, first thing in the morning, and I will obtain a special licence.’

  ‘The banns will be read and we will be married in the parish church for all your people to see, as already arranged, according to my father’s wishes.’

  ‘You don’t know your father’s wishes.’

  She looked down at the note in her hand. ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I do.’

  Tears burned behind his eyes at the tenderness in her voice. ‘I don’t want to wait weeks to have you in my arms, in my bed,’ he groaned. ‘but if that is your wish...’

  Her arms came up around his neck. She kissed his lips, a small press of her lips against his, before she drew back with a smile. ‘There is absolutely no reason for us to wait until we are married, is there?’

  ‘You are a wicked woman.’

  ‘I’m a blue-stocking, remember.’

  Right then, with his blood pounding in his veins, he couldn’t remember a thing except his need to be inside her. He picked her up in his arms and strode for his chamber, knowing only one thing. She was his and he was the luckiest man alive.

  Epilogue

  ‘So Beresford, I finally get to meet your lovely wife,’ Templeton drawled.

  Bane narrowed his eyes as his friend, the blond darling of the ton and heir to the Marquisate of Mooreshead, bowed over Mary’s hand. He’d given this ball at his newly renovated London town house, invited the ton, in order to introduce her to society. He could hardly complain that so many of them, including his oldest and most trusted friend, had come. Most of them were curious to see who the bastard earl had married, no doubt. Still, he did not have to like that his best friend and well-known rake, Lord Templeton, was eyeing his wife like a wolf who had just spotted dinner.

  As usual he’d come late to the party. There were only a few more dances now supper was over and the last of the guests would depart.

  Gabe caught his glare and laughed. Damn, the man was far too handsome a fellow with a smile on his lips, even if he was one of His Majesty’s most dangerous spies.

  ‘I wish you both much happiness,’ Gabe said.

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’ Mary dipped a curtsy. She looked beautiful tonight in a gown of pale-rose silk, her hair arranged artfully by Betsy, her height lending her the elegance of a queen. Pride filled him, every time he looked at her, along with the desire to glare at any male who approached.

  ‘Do you plan to return to that pile of rocks in Cornwall?’ Gabe asked.

  ‘In time,’ Bane said. ‘It needs some major renovations before we will feel comfortable there.’ Like the closing up of passages behind the walls.

  Mary nodded her agreement.

  ‘Before you do anything to the house, would you be willing to lease it to me? For a year or so? Its inconveniences might prove very useful to my enterprise.’

  Mary didn’t so much as blink. They’d agreed they would keep no secrets from each other and, after receiving Gabe’s permission, he’d told her all about his friend’s work for the Foreign Office.

  He sent her an enquiring look and she nodded. ‘I owe you for finding my friend Mrs Ladbrook.’

  Bane had wanted the woman to pay back the money she had salted away, but Mary wouldn’t allow it. A woman alone had to do what she needed to survive. Besides, they were friends.

  She turned to Bane. ‘Since you will be busy making your mark in Parliament, and working for better conditions in the mines, and I have an idea for a school for miners’ children I would like to raise with the denizens of the ton, I don’t see why not,’ she said. ‘We will need its return when we begin our family.’

  A family was her dearest hope, he knew. But he hoped it would not happen too soon. He liked having her to himself.

  ‘Then it is agreed,’ Bane said to Gabe.

  ‘May I request this next dance, Lady Beresford?’ Gabe asked, with a sly look at Bane and a charming smile for his wife.

  ‘Mary is promised to me,’ Bane said quickly, unable to keep the possessive note from his voice.

  She shook her head at him.

  ‘You are,’ he said and swept her into the waltz with a warning glower at his friend. As they moved around the floor, he was overcome by a wave of contentment.

  ‘Are you happy?’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘Incredibly. Unbelievably. There is only one thing missing.’

  ‘Children.’

  ‘Your children,’ she whispered close to his ear.

  His groin tightened. ‘I am sure no one would miss us if it is your pleasure to try again.’

  A shiver passed through her frame. ‘It is always my ple
asure.’

  He manoeuvred her closer to the door and then whirled her out into the hallway. Giggling like children, they ran up the servants’ staircase to their chamber.

  ‘You, sir, are wicked,’ she said, leaning her back against the closed door.

  She looked wanton and quite delighted.

  His heart swelled as he pulled her close. ‘I am glad you are pleased, my dearest heart,’ he breathed softly against her neck, feeling her soft swells against his length with a powerful shudder of anticipation of the love and bliss he would find in her arms.

  * * * * *

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  Nicholas de Burgh kept one hand on the hilt of his sword and a wary eye on the company around him. He had been in worse places, but not many, and this inn might give even his brothers pause. Although the de Burghs were fearless, they weren’t stupid, and Nicholas blamed a bout of recklessness for his presence here.

  The stench of drink and vomit filled his nostrils, for these lodgings made no claim to cleanliness, a fact that seemed lost on the others who gathered in the dim common room. Indeed, those around him had the hardened air of men likely to do murder for a handful of coins.

  Except for one.

  It was the sight of that singular fellow that caused Nicholas to linger. Barely more than a boy, the stranger wore the distinctive robe of the Hospitallers and probably had returned from a stint of fighting in the Holy Land. Although a knight, his limp and seeming lack of a squire made him vulnerable to the thieves, whores and gamblers who frequented these places.

  The boy’s eyes were bright with either too much wine or some kind of fever, which might account for his lack of judgement. Or maybe he was so glad to be back in England that he forgot there were plenty of dangers right here at home.