The Hellion and The Heartbreaker

by McNare, Jennifer

  The Hellion and The Heartbreaker

  By Jennifer McNare

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as factual. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, or persons is completely coincidental

  Text copyright © 2012

  Jennifer McNare

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  England, 1840

  “Put me down this instant,” Scarlett demanded, her voice imperious despite the indignity of her current position, dangling head first over her eldest brother, Colin’s shoulder. Much to her chagrin, he simply continued to laugh as she thumped fruitlessly upon his back with her small fists.

  “Well now, what do we have here?”

  Scarlett immediately stopped pounding on Colin’s back and turned her head toward the voice. Her long red tresses swirled around her, standing out like brilliant flames against the white of Colin’s shirt as she hurriedly pushed them aside. It was Conner. She thanked her lucky stars that it wasn’t Tess, and knew she still had a chance. Although she adored Tess, her governess was no push over. Her harassed, yet much beloved brothers were much easier targets for the cunning wiles of her quick mind.

  She watched as Conner approached, quickly altering the look on her face from mutinous to despondent. Her brother shook his head, grinning at her morose expression, not seeming the least bit surprised to see her hanging upside down over Colin’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  Still grinning, he stepped forward and playfully tugged on one of her curls. “What have you done this time, Minx?” he asked.

  Scarlett felt a flash of ire at her brother’s assumption, but with a little effort she maintained the pitiful expression. “I haven’t done anything,” she whimpered with exaggerated dejection. “Colin’s just being an awful bully.”

  To her extreme annoyance, Colin and Connor looked at each other with barely concealed amusement, rolling their matching blue eyes, the same blue eyes that she and all four of her brothers had inherited from their beautiful English mother. She looked away, her jaw tightening as she fought to control her rising temper.

  “A bully am I?” Colin queried with a chuckle, grabbing Scarlett around the waist and setting her back on her feet in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow as she looked up and met his gaze, his expression skeptical. “Did I not just catch you trying to sneak out to the stables, young lady?”

  Standing well over six feet tall, Colin was an imposing figure. Large and muscular, he seemed enormous in comparison to her small frame, but she didn’t fear him, not in the least. In fact, she adored him. At present however, he was the sole recipient of her rapidly increasing ire. She fought the urge to stamp her booted feet on the polished marble tile that spread the length of the large two-story foyer, knowing there was another, more effective method of getting her way. She turned toward Conner, gazing up at him through the thick veil of her long dark lashes, affording him with the saddest, most forlorn look she could muster, and then turned back to Colin. “I just wanted to see the new horses,” she said with a sad little pout, her voice conveying the perfect combination of contrition and desolation.

  “Lessons first, Scarlett,” Colin stated firmly. “You know the rules.” He looked pointedly at Conner, the unspoken message was clear – stand firm!

  Scarlett stood before her brothers in her typical garb, a wrinkled and worn long-sleeved cotton shirt, a hand me down from one of the twins, tucked into a pair of faded breeches, another hand me down, and a gleaming pair of black riding boots, custom made especially for her by one of London’s premier boot makers. They were her most prized possession. She cast her eyes downward, staring at the tops of her boots, brushing the toe of the right one lightly from side to side against the marble floor. As usual, her red hair was unbound and fell around her shoulders in a tangled mass of unruly curls. She heaved a long drawn out sigh, and then after a moment’s pause, made a small sniffling sound. When she raised her head, Conner and Colin’s expressions were nearly identical, expressions that said, not this time Scarlett. Her lower lip quivered, she gave another dramatic sniffle, and with a prowess that would have done the most skilled stage actress proud, a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek. Their stern expressions faltered, and so quickly that it was almost laughable, their resolve crumbled before her eyes.

  “All right, but just this once!” Colin said, as Conner nodded his agreement.

  Scarlett mentally congratulated herself, for that simple phrase, just this once, was something she’d heard more times than she could count. She dashed the lone tear from her cheek and flashed her brothers a brilliant smile. Turning, she darted toward the front door, allowing Colin no time for second thoughts.

  They followed her outside, watching as she raced full speed across the beautifully manicured front lawn, her hair flying out behind her like a flaming cape as she sped toward the stables. “Are you certain she’s only twelve-years-old?” Conner asked.

  Colin chuckled. “She reminds me more and more of Papa every day.”

  Conner nodded in agreement. “Like mother too,” he said, a gentle smile curving his lips. “She’s the best of both of them, a whole lot of sugar and a healthy dash of spice.”

  A light breeze gently ruffled Colin’s red hair as he turned to his brother, his bright eyes twinkling. “A force to be reckoned with.”

  “We’ve spoiled her you know.”

  “I know,” Colin agreed, his amused tone betraying not an ounce of regret. “She’s had us all wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born.”

  Grinning, they followed Scarlett to the stables.

  Rory and Gavin, Scarlett’s sixteen-year-old brothers didn’t seem overly surprised to see her barreling into the stable yard shortly before noon. She should have been at her lessons for at least another hour, but neither of them so much as blinked as they noted her sudden appearance. They were home from boarding school on summer break, and she had missed them dreadfully. She loved all of her brothers immensely, but the twins were especially full of fun and youthful energy, and brought an added lightness to the estate when they were home.

  “Good morning, Trouble,” Rory teased, as Scarlett skidded to a halt beside him.

  “Are they here yet?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yep,” Rory responded, setting down the bridle he’d been working on and taking Scarlett’s hand, “they just arrived.” He led her into the massive stable, past numerous horse-filled stalls, walking in the direction of the rear paddock, their clasped hands swinging freely between them. The grooms smiled fondly at her as they passed, and she smiled warmly at each of them in return. She had known most of them her entire life and she loved them like family.

  The stable was her favorite place on the estate. She enjoyed the perpetual activity, the smell of fresh hay, the gentle nickering of the horses, and the playful banter of the young grooms as they went about their work. Sh
e helped out whenever she could, feeding and grooming the horses and mucking out the stalls along with the lads. She had spent more hours here than she could count.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Gavin had fallen into step behind them and she immediately reached out for his hand, clasping it in her free one as they walked toward the paddock. Hand in hand between her brothers and liberated, at least temporarily, from the schoolroom, Scarlett’s mood was jubilant.

  “Take a look at these beauties,” Gavin said when they reached the tall wooden fence, hoisting her up so that she stood on one of the rails, enabling her to get a good look at the new additions to the McPhearson stables.

  There were four of them, all beautiful, magnificent creatures, but one in particular caught her eye. He was an immense stallion. His coat, black as night, shimmered with a silvery tint in the bright sunlight. “Oh, look at him, he’s beautiful,” she exclaimed.

  “That he is,” Rory agreed, following her gaze.

  Gavin nodded, following the stallion with his eyes. “He’s a damn fine piece of horseflesh all right.”

  For Scarlett, it was love at first sight. She watched in blatant admiration as he raced along the perimeter of the fence, his powerful hooves tearing up large clods of dirt and grass as he came toward them. He tossed his head in her direction as he passed, and for a moment, their eyes seemed to meet. She felt an instant connection. She’d always loved horses, but there was something special about this one. She watched his graceful movements for several long moments, entranced. He was meant for her, she just knew it. “I want to ride him,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the splendid animal.

  “No way,” Rory proclaimed.

  “Absolutely not,” Gavin exclaimed at exactly the same time.

  Transfixed, Scarlett barely heard them. “Oh please, please can I have him?” she begged, turning her wonder filled gaze toward her brothers.

  “Not a chance, Minx.”

  Scarlett turned. She hadn’t noticed that Colin and Conner had joined their little group. “But Colin…”

  “Save your breath, Scarlett, there is no way you are getting up on that brute.” Colin’s features were set, his tone adamant. “Besides, he has already been promised to someone else.”

  “Promised to whom?” she demanded, her brow furrowing in irritation.

  “To the Duke of Worthe, that’s who. And I don’t think he would appreciate you gadding about on his new mount before he’s even had a chance to see him.”

  “You’re selling him to some stuffy old duke?” Scarlett demanded incredulously, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  “Alec Weston is neither stuffy, nor old, Scarlett,” Colin replied with an amused grin. “In fact, he happens to be a very good friend of mine.”

  “Well, if he’s your friend, I’m sure he won’t mind when you tell him that we have decided to keep him,” Scarlett retorted, her tone matter of fact.

  “I’m sorry Scarlett, but we are not keeping him.” Colin replied firmly, with a negative shake of his head.

  “You don’t think I can handle him, do you?” She eyed her brother knowingly. She had learned to ride almost as soon as she had learned to walk. Horses were the family business after all. However, despite her first-rate skills as an equestrian, her brothers continued to treat her like a baby, insisting she continue to ride Max, the docile gelding she’d been given on her ninth birthday, or a few of the more even-tempered mares they housed in the stable. It was maddening!

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” Colin admitted. “There is no way you could handle a brute like that, Scarlett, not yet anyhow.”

  “Humph,” she snorted in disagreement. She turned and searched the faces of her three other brothers, seeking their support. Their expressions turned guarded, and they all seemed suddenly to be looking elsewhere, skyward, over her shoulder, down at their shoes, none of them meeting her eyes. She glared at each of them in turn, and as the seconds ticked by the air grew fraught with tension. Finally she heaved a frustrated sigh and cast her eyes to the ground. Apparently she needed to change tactics. Taking a slow calming breath, she turned once again to Colin. She looked up and met his gaze, her lower lip quivering.

  “No, Scarlett.”

  So much for that idea, she thought, her temper quickly escalating.

  Colin visibly braced himself as Scarlett’s expression shifted once again into a mutinous glower.

  Despite her youth, the fiery temperament of the McPhearson’s Irish ancestors ran strong in her blood, and at present it was boiling. She stood on the fence rail nearly eye to eye with her brother, seconds seeming like minutes as they stared each other down. From the corner of her eye she noted Conner and the twins shifting restlessly in the background. She mentally weighed her options. Her brothers rarely denied her anything, but in this instance Colin’s demeanor was surprisingly unyielding. It was an unexpected development, and for once she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. After a moment, she looked away, turning her gaze back to the stallion. He was so beautiful. She’d never wanted anything more, but Colin wasn’t going to budge, she could tell. Beyond frustrated she jumped to the ground, turning on her heel without another word. She stomped back toward the house, kicking up little clouds of dust as she went, her arms swinging furiously at her sides. She wasn’t giving in, she just needed a plan.

  In silence, her four brothers watched her go.

  Conner was the first to speak. Glancing toward the stallion, he started to voice what they were all obviously thinking. “Perhaps…”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Colin said, cutting him off. “She’ll get over it.”

  The optimistic statement was met with three sets of raised eyebrows and three rather dubious expressions.

  Alec Weston arrived at the McPhearson’s country estate the following day, though it was nearly dark when his elegant traveling coach, emblazoned with the Worthe ducal coat of arms, finally rolled to a stop at the crest of the long gravel drive. A buxom young blonde with an accommodating smile and an eager-to-please disposition had delayed his departure from London, but the pleasurable romp had been well worth the late start.

  Smiling at the memory, he was in exceptionally good spirits as the door swung open and the coach steps were lowered. He nodded in greeting as two of the McPhearson’s liveried footmen exited the large stone manor, hustling toward the vehicle as he alighted, and then made his way to the front entrance. He was a bit stiff from the lengthy confinement and it felt good to stretch his legs. As he walked, his boot heels crunched softly against the loose gravel, a welcome sound after the long journey. Inhaling deeply, he savored the scent of clean fresh country air as he leisurely ascended the wide front steps. When he reached the entry, the McPhearson’s butler was immediately at his side to usher him in.

  “Good evening, Your Grace. Welcome to Grey Oaks.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, crossing the threshold and stepping into the foyer.

  “If you would care to wait in the parlor,” the butler said, motioning to the large, elegantly furnished room just off the foyer, “I will inform the earl of your arrival.”

  Alec nodded his assent and walked unhurried into the room. He’d been sitting for the past several hours, so he ignored the richly upholstered duvet and matching chairs and moved to stand before one of the tall, mullioned windows overlooking the front lawn. He watched dispassionately as one of the footmen unloaded his bag, and then sent the vehicle in the direction of the coach house. His thoughts drifted for a moment and then turned to Colin. They had met years ago at boarding school, had eventually become roommates, and then ultimately the best of friends. They had been quite a pair back then he recalled fondly, notorious for raising hell and causing trouble at the prestigious school that housed and educated a large majority of sons from the country’s most prominent and well-to-do families.

  Unfortunately, the tragic death of Colin’s parents had put a premature end to their youthful hell raising. Colin had left school early t
o act as guardian to his younger siblings, and shortly thereafter had inherited the title Earl of Kenston from his English grandfather. Those obligations, combined with the responsibility of caring for his four siblings, had permanently curtailed their boyish antics, but they had remained close friends nonetheless.

  Unlike Colin, he had inherited his own title, the seventh Duke of Worthe, at a much earlier age, having just turned thirteen when his own father died, seven years earlier. His mother, along with the trustees of his father’s estate had overseen their family’s holdings while he had completed his schooling, keeping the burden from his shoulders until recently.

  Now, with his education complete, it was he who controlled the vast Weston fortune. It was a huge undertaking, and gave him a much greater understanding and tremendous appreciation for the profound obligation that had fallen on his friend’s young shoulders. It also kept him in the city far more then he would have liked. Thus, he had been delighted when he’d received word from Colin that the McPhearson stables had acquired a new stallion, one that Colin thought he might have an interest in. He had jumped at the chance to leave London for even a short time, and now, he intended to enjoy the brief hiatus to its fullest.

  “Alec, you made it.”

  He immediately turned from the window, his expression slightly repentant as Colin entered the room. “I’m afraid I got a bit of a late start,” he said with a roguish grin, moving forward to grasp Colin’s hand in friendly greeting.

  Colin cocked his left eyebrow knowingly. “Blonde or brunette?”

  “You know me too well, Colin,” Alec said, smiling sardonically.

  “Indeed I do.” Colin nodded in amused agreement. “So, which was she?”

  “Blonde, of course.”

  “You always did have a weakness for the blondes,” Colin replied with a lighthearted chuckle.

  “While you my friend have always had a fondness for the dark-haired beauties.”

  “Perhaps that’s why we have always got on so well. We’ve never vied for the affections of the same women.” Their good-natured banter was easy and familiar. “It’s good to see you, Alec.”