Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Black Diamond Series
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
Sneak Peek at The Virtuous Viscount
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Thank you
You Can Help!
God Can Help!
Free Book Offer
The Baron’s Blunder
Susan M. Baganz
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Baron’s Blunder
COPYRIGHT 2016, 2017 by Susan M. Baganz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Contact Information: [email protected]
Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated are taken from the King James translation, public domain.
Cover Art by Nicola Martinez
White Rose Publishing is a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC
www.pelicanbookgroup.com PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410
White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC
Publishing History
First Prism Edition, 2016
First White Rose Edition 2017
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-5223-9763-2
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Grandpa “The Earl” Wichern
I’m grateful you joined our family.
Lord, don’t even bother bringing me a man.
What were You thinking anyway?
The Honorable Henrietta Percy
Err
Πλανάω planaō plan-ahʹ–o
(cause to) roam (from safety, truth or virtue):
go astray, deceive, err, seduce, wander, be out of the way.
(Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance)
Do not err, my beloved brethren.
James 1:16
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth.
1 Corinthians 13:6
Black Diamond Regency Romantic Suspense
The Baron’s Blunder (Prequel) novella
The Virtuous Viscount (Book 1)
Lord Phillip’s Folly (Book 2)
Sir Michael’s Mayhem (coming soon)
Lord Harrow’s Heart (coming soon)
The Captain’s Conquest (coming soon)
1
Spring, 1808
Great Britain
The sun blinded him, yet a flash in the distance caught his attention. Sure enough, another robbery of a coach by some land pirate. Not again. Disgusted, Lord Charles Percy urged his mount into a gallop as he drew his pistol and cocked it. Slowing his mount and aiming true, he shot the gun out of the ruffian’s hand. The thief’s horse tossed the rider to the ground before racing away.
Charles drew his mount alongside the carriage. The horse’s sharp hooves almost stepped on the bounder who was writhing on the dusty earth grasping his wrist.
Charles aimed the pistol.
“I didn’t mean to hurt no one. Don’t kill me.” The man scrambled to his feet and started to run, but Charles was a crack shot and brought down the man with a strike to the arm.
Dismounting, he strode to where the fellow moaned on the ground and with one of Hoby’s finest boots, pushed the robber on to his back.
The filthy villain stared up at him, eyes wide with fear.
“Get up. I must march you to the magistrate since your horse has abandoned you.”
The man rose, clutching his bleeding arm.
Grabbing him by the collar, Charles shoved him toward the road and then wrapped the man’s wrists behind his back with rope from his saddle. He pushed the would-be thief to the ground. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot the other arm as well.”
How many of these blackguards had he caught recently? Five, if his count was correct. It was as if God had given him a divine mandate to erase the countryside of the vermin. It wasn’t a role he cherished or sought.
He strode to the carriage and discovered the occupants standing outside, watching. A beautiful debutante tapped her foot, obviously not impressed with his deeds of daring.
He doffed his hat and bowed. “My ladies, Mr. Percy at your service.”
Standing upright, his eyes met the sparkling coffee-colored gaze of a dazzling woman with golden silk hair and azure dress with darker blue pelisse. She extended her gloved hand to him. He accepted it and bowed over to place a kiss an inch above its surface. “Your servant.” He took in the woman beside her, dressed in a shocking shade of puce but with regal bearing. He took her hand and did the same.
“We are indebted to you, Mr. Percy.” The older woman’s narrowed gaze made him wonder if he’d erred.
“You are unharmed?”
A broad smile overtook the young woman’s face. “Thanks to you we are now safe.” A hint of sarcasm laced her words.
The older woman shook her head at the ingénue. “I am Lady Grey and this is my niece, the Honorable Henrietta Allendale. My charge was ready to dispatch the criminal with her pistol when you arrived, saving her from that distasteful act.”
“He saved the thief’s life. If I’d shot him, he’d be lying dead.” Miss Allendale’s chin rose a notch. The challenge in her tone was clear. She could have done better than him. Intriguing.
“Most distasteful and shocking display of vulgarity, my dear,” the older woman chided.
Charles’s eyebrow rose a fraction as he took in the Miss Allendale and fought a grin. It wouldn’t do to encourage the girl. If memory served, this was Lord Remington’s sister. Charles was doubly glad he’d assumed his less prestigious moniker. While she intrigued him, most unattached women her age had only one thing in mind—capturing a wealthy, titled gentleman.
And this gentleman was not willing to be caught.
“I’m sorry I failed you by keeping him alive, my lady. I often opt to let the law or God decide in matters of life and death and do not seek to play that role myself lest I tarnish my soul.”
“A believer, then?” the older woman asked.
“Aye, that I am. May I assist you back into your carriage so you can safely resume your journey? I’ll ensure this man is dealt with by the local constable.”
He stood and helped Lady Grey before turning to Miss Allendale. She put her hand in his and leaned forward. “I know not what game you play, sir, but you, my lord, are no mere mister,” she whispered. She entered the carriage and their gazes met.
He swallowed hard and finally released a smile. Marcus had once described his sister as wily and astute. Charles did not envy his old classmate the chore of corralling this young filly. He strode to his horse and chuckled. She’d probably have rapped his knuckles soundly for such a comparison if she’d heard it.
“What you laughin’ at?” the criminal asked.
“My own amusing thoughts.” He lifted the man to his feet. “Come now, lead the way;
and remember my finger has an itch.”
The frown on the man led Charles to believe that perhaps this one would actually listen and keep him from firing his weapon again. Rounding up criminals was a tedious business, but at least today it won him the opportunity to meet a woman with whom he’d enjoy sparring again.
If only he could keep her from people who knew his title. She might take him in disgust then. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t in any danger of losing his heart or his head.
The sun hid behind a cloud giving some relief from the heat of the day as he walked his criminal to the next village. He could hardly wait to be done and get to London to meet the Honorable Henrietta Allendale once more.
~*~
“Henri, turn around will you? It is unseemly to be mooning after a man you’ve only just met.”
“I realize that, Aunt Dorothy, but he was quite handsome, was he not? And I daresay he was lying about his identity. But why? Is he truly humble or trying to hide something? But of course”—she settled back into her seat—“everyone conceals something, don’t they?” She bit back her grin at the thought of just how well Mr. Percy looked in those trousers. If her aunt understood where her mind had wandered, she’d be on the receiving end of a sound scolding. “I wonder what it is?”
“Stop that. You’ll have him a pirate from Barbados avoiding capture.”
“Pish, posh! Such silliness, dear Aunt. He has a proper English accent and not one of the lower orders. No. He is of a higher station than he claims. Mister Percy is not landed gentry, I guarantee you that. Did you observe the polish on those boots? And the signet ring on his left hand? His coat was custom made, if I understand anything about fashion. His horse is an expensive animal with perfect lines and gait. No, Aunt Dorothy, he is of the aristocracy, and I do hope I meet him again.”
“Leave it be. He’s not a man to be trifled with, I dare say.”
“Trifle? Me, trifle with any man’s affections? No. I suspect this one is avoiding the parson’s mousetrap as much as I am, so he’s perfectly safe.”
“No man is safe. Well, except for your brother, perhaps.”
“Marcus is too safe, if you ask me. How’s he ever to find a wife if he won’t dance with any miss more than once in a fortnight? You realize the only reason he attends all the social rounds is to cultivate the political allies he needs.”
“He is young, my dear, and has much to prove to many. I’ve no doubt he’ll make his mark, and when he’s ready, God will bring the perfect girl to his doorstep to be his bride.”
“I hope you don’t mean literally to his doorstep, Aunt. Do you realize how many young women have claimed to have sprained their ankles in front of our home? Poor Edwards and Mrs. Agnes have tended a multitude of foolish ingénues whilst my dearest brother does his business elsewhere. It’s making him quite suspicious of any woman who even looks his way. One might think he’s prideful for all that, but he’s really not. Just afraid of being trapped.”
“Not a fear you share?”
“There is nothing to be anxious about, for it shall not happen. I will not allow a man to compromise me, and will stay within the guidelines set by society, Marcus, and yourself. I shall be fine and can live quite happily this way for many years to come.”
“But if Marcus were to wed, would you want to live in the same house as the Viscountess?”
Henri frowned. “I never considered that. My, that might make life abundantly more difficult, but I’d have a sister—which would be delightful, I’d hope.”
The carriage barreled along as each woman relaxed into the squabs.
Henri smiled as she recalled the stormy grey eyes and the blond hair of her rescuer. She really hoped they would meet again…and soon.
2
Several days later, Charles spied the woman who haunted his dreams as he came out of the haberdashery after placing an order. He stepped forward and bowed. “Lady Grey and Miss Allendale. What a delight to meet you again.”
“The pleasure is ours. We are indebted to you for your dispatch of the thief the other day.”
He stood upright, and the twinkle in Henrietta’s eyes belied her serious tone. “’Twas an honor to come to the aid of two beautiful women. I trust the rest of your journey was made without any further trials?”
“Other than the dust and the constant bouncing?” The corners of Lady Grey’s lips rose a fraction. “My nephew owns the finest of coaches, but still, they can be quite stuffy.”
“I’ve often complained to my dear aunt here, that it is sad that a woman is not allowed to make that journey on horseback. I, for one, would enjoy that immensely,” Miss Allendale stated.
“Would you, now? Hours in a saddle can make one quite sore if the rider is not used to it.” Charles raised an eyebrow.
A delightful shade of pink colored Miss Allendale’s cheeks. “Perhaps for a novice rider, but I’ve been known to ride our grooms into the ground. The horses often outlast them.”
“You should encourage your brother to hire grooms with far more stamina,” he parried.
“We are headed to Gunter’s for ices. Would you care to join us?” Lady Grey asked, putting an end to the exchange.
“As much as I would enjoy such a prospect, I have an appointment to keep.”
“Well met, Mister Percy. Adieu.” Henrietta winked at him as he doffed his hat in farewell.
Returning it to his head, he watched them walk down the street.
Intriguing young woman, indeed.
~*~
Henrietta leaned into Lady Grey. “No mere mister visits that shop. What do you think? Is he an earl, or perhaps a viscount like Marcus? And why would he pretend to be something less?”
“You are full of flights of fancy. Perhaps you might ask Marcus about this man when he comes to town.”
“Perhaps, but that could be weeks from now. That fire at the Browns’ was quite inconvenient, as is my brother’s insistence that he participate in building a new place for the family.”
“Mrs. Brown is enceinte and due within a month. He’s only doing what is right.”
“I realize as much, and if I didn’t adore him, I’d be vexed at just how perfect he is.”
Lady Grey chuckled. “Perfect? You, of all people, understand just how imperfect he is.”
“True, as does Jared. But we love him anyway. His faults are few, to be sure. But I will ask him about Mr. Percy next I see him.”
“Good. Now may we set thoughts of this young man aside and enjoy an ice?”
“Yes, dearest Aunt. We may.” They entered Gunter’s and enjoyed the refreshment there.
And while Henrietta didn’t speak of it, her thoughts were full of the fine figure of a certain gentleman. Her heart was in no danger from her little imaginings and she found it an enjoyable pastime to speculate on the peculiar puzzle he presented.
~*~
Charles settled into a chair across from his companion, Sir Michael Tidley, at White’s. A glass of wine was poured for him. He sipped it and sighed.
“Oh, no. Say it isn’t so, Charles.” Michael groaned as he leaned forward with his brow furrowed.
“Say what?” Charles asked. He struggled to keep the image of a beautiful blonde from the forefront of his thoughts.
“You’re moonstruck over a woman, aren’t you? Dangerous stuff in our business.”
“I am merely intrigued. By a young lady I met on the road the other day as I apprehended another miscreant.”
“Did you leave him alive?”
“But of course.”
“Does this lovely lady who has piqued your interest have a name, perchance?”
“Miss Henrietta Allendale.”
Michael sat back and a smile spread across his face. “You’re quizzing me! Marcus’s sister? She’s trouble. I have first-hand experience. As a child, she played with Katrina who lived next door, but more often than not was raising some kind of breeze. She’s a crack shot, though, which is impressive, and her left hook is nothing to sneeze
at. And from what I understand she has no desire to wed.”
Charles shook his head. “She has too much spirit for most of the men on the marriage mart.”
“And too much money. Many of the lads out there would gladly put up with her for that dowry.”
“Is she playing hard to catch, perhaps?” Charles asked.
Michael shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t fool yourself. You’re probably just the man to put up with her. When she realizes it, you’ll be caught and not seeking escape.”
“She is a beautiful woman.”
“Wake up, my good man. This kind of thing is what’ll get you killed. Stay focused.”
“One problem.”
Michael moaned. “What?”
“Before I knew who she was I introduced myself to her as Mr. Percy.”
“She didn’t believe you, did she? Being found in a lie will be a serious obstacle if you really are enchanted with her.”
Charles frowned. “She already suspects I’m not who I say I am.”
“There’s a reason I avoid her company. Far too perceptive, by half.”
“Is she? Lord Hughes might find her useful.”
“Perhaps he already has. I wouldn’t know, and it’s all the better I don’t.”
“Any news?”
“Jared wrote. He’s afraid. The war is getting worse, and he said he’s almost been caught more than once. Some of the French have been brutal in their torture.”
“Not surprising if they can behead people a la Madame Guillotine.”
“Keep him in your prayers.”
“Aren’t you praying for him?”
“I don’t have faith enough for that.”
“I pray you’ll change your mind one day.”
Michael sighed. “I appreciate your devotion to God, as well as Marcus’s, but leave well enough alone.”
“I’m concerned for your soul, Michael. There’s nothing for me to be gained by your accepting Christ than knowing you’ll be at peace and have His power with you as you go about your work.”
“God could want little to do with a man like me.”
“Your origins have nothing to do with being acceptable to God any more than they did with you being my friend. But God loves you more.”
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