by Laura Martin
From baby bump to marriage vows!
Rosa Rothwell knows her pregnancy is scandalous. She will do anything to protect her baby, even staging a daring escape from her family’s Italian home. Rosa has no idea what the future holds—until a handsome but infuriating stranger offers his help.
Convinced his family is cursed, Lord Hunter believes he’s far better off alone. But the pregnant debutante’s sweet nature touches him deeply. Can he confront his demons at last, and give them both a new future...as husband and wife?
“I have a proposition for you,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“I would like you to listen to what I have to say and think before you give me an answer.”
Rosa smiled at him, but her expression turned serious as she studied him.
“I think we should marry.”
Rosa almost choked as he said the words.
“Don’t jest, Thomas,” she said. “I know I am unmarriageable, but please don’t poke fun.”
“I’m completely serious.”
“Why would you want to marry me? You’re not in love with me. You barely know me.”
All very good points, but he knew enough. “You need to marry, and soon, or the child you carry will forever be illegitimate.”
“That’s not what I asked. I know why I’m in desperate need of a husband.” Rosa grimaced. “But no man in his right mind would take me on.”
“Maybe I’m not in my right mind.” She regarded him in silence, almost warily, until he spoke again. “Just listen and I will explain.”
Author Note
I never thought I would write a romance where one of the protagonists lives under the shadow of the threat of an inherited disease—it isn’t a subject that immediately lends itself to images of happiness and passion. However, complex neurological disorders are an issue very close to my heart, and when I found myself wondering what it would be like to live two hundred years ago with one of these diseases I couldn’t let the idea go.
Although not identified in the book, the disease running in Thomas Hunter’s family is Huntington’s disease, a hereditary disorder of the central nervous system. If a parent is affected, their children all have a 50 percent chance of developing the disease. This we know today, from modern clinical research, but in 1820, when genetics and theories on modes of inheritance were far into the future, a disease that ran in the family would often be thought of as a curse. There was no way of knowing if you would be affected, and when planning this book I couldn’t let go of the unimaginable strain that lack of knowledge would put someone under.
I have tried to be as accurate as possible in Thomas’s descriptions of the disease his father and brother died from, but as with many illnesses it affects people differently. What I hope is accurate is Thomas’s journey to accepting the uncertainty his future holds, and allowing himself a little happiness on the way.
LAURA
MARTIN
A Ring for the
Pregnant Debutante
Laura Martin writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing, she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read from cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel—especially visiting historical sites and far-flung shores.
Books by Laura Martin
Harlequin Historical
The Governess Tales
Governess to the Sheikh
Linked by Character
An Earl in Want of a Wife
Heiress on the Run
Stand-Alone Novels
The Pirate Hunter
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Under a Desert Moon
A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante
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For Luke and Jack—you keep me smiling.
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 Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Warrior's Damsel in Distress by Meriel Fuller
Chapter One
Rosa lifted her head from the pillow as the door opened and looked at the unappetising bowl of stew before turning her gaze to her odious cousin. He watched her as she dismissed first the dinner and then him, a cold contempt behind his eyes.
‘You should be grateful for the scraps I bring you,’ Antonio Di Mercurio sneered as he flung the bowl of brown slop on to the rickety wooden table. ‘Whores don’t deserve to eat with the rest of the family.’
‘Would it hurt you to be civil?’ Rosa replied in her broken Italian. She tried to remain aloof, but could already feel the anger threatening to take over. Her cousin had been needling her for the past four weeks, trying to provoke some kind of reaction, and Rosa knew it wouldn’t be long before he succeeded. There were only so many insults she could turn the other cheek to before retaliating.
‘Civil? Maybe you should work on being less civil. Might save the family from further shame in the future.’ Antonio laughed heartily at his joke, made the protective sign against the evil eye with his hands and turned to leave.
Rosa picked up the bowl Antonio had just set down and flung it at her malicious cousin, but he was already out of the room and the dinner splatted against the closed door. Letting out a growl of annoyance, Rosa flopped back on the bed and tried to relax. She knew she shouldn’t let Antonio upset her so much, but it was difficult being in a foreign country with people she didn’t know. The Di Mercurios might be her family on her mother’s side, but they didn’t act warm or loving. In the four weeks she’d been staying in the villa in Italy not one of them had said a single kind word towards her.
Rosa suddenly sat up straight and looked at the door. In Antonio’s haste to avoid her flying dinner he might have forgotten to lock it. She didn’t remember hearing the click or the grating of the metal key in the ancient lock. Hardly daring to hope, Rosa stood and crossed the room. She gripped the handle, wondering whether it was a trick, an unkind ruse planned by her cousin to give her the hope of freedom.
Knowing she couldn’t give up on even the slightest chance of escaping her imprisonment, Rosa pushed down on the handle and nearly cried out with happiness as the door opened. Quickly she glanced out into the corridor and saw it was deserted; the Di Mercurio family had no need to station a guard outside her door when they kept it locked all
day and night.
Rosa carefully closed the door and rested her head against the rough wood. This was her one and only chance to escape. For twenty-three hours a day she was locked in this small chamber, only let out for one hour’s exercise around the grounds daily. When outside her room she was always watched closely by one of her numerous uncles or cousins, all intent on keeping her hidden from the world so she wouldn’t bring shame to their family. So now really was her only chance and she wouldn’t let the nerves that were bubbling away inside her spoil it.
Grabbing her travelling cloak, Rosa collected together the few items she felt she couldn’t leave behind and made a neat bundle. Just before leaving the room she pushed her hand under her mattress and removed the small purse of money she’d managed to keep hidden throughout her journey to Italy and subsequent imprisonment in the villa. Then, without a backwards glance at the room that had been her prison cell for the past month, Rosa darted out into the courtyard.
The garden was shrouded in an inky blackness and it took Rosa’s eyes a few minutes to adjust. Luckily she knew this part of the grounds from her daily exercise excursions from her room and as she felt her way along the villa wall an escape route began to form in her mind.
‘Don’t be like that, Maria.’ Antonio’s voice carried through the night.
Rosa stiffened, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she thought the whole world must be able to hear.
‘I never promised this would be anything more than a few nights of fun. You’re only a maid after all.’
Rosa couldn’t hear the words of Maria’s reply, but she understood the gist of her feelings from the tone. No doubt Antonio had implied he would give the servant much more than a quick fumble. Normally Rosa would have stormed over and confronted her cousin, but tonight she had to be selfish. She couldn’t bear to be locked up for another five months, but more importantly she wouldn’t let the Di Mercurios snatch her baby away and send it to live with some other family. Going forward, Rosa would have to be selfish, it wasn’t just her own future she was fighting for now.
Creeping softly through the night, Rosa moved further away from the villa, making sure she kept the perimeter wall to her right. She was heading for a huge lemon tree at the southernmost corner of the grounds. There she was confident she could make it over the wall and to freedom, and even the most vigilant of her family wouldn’t be able to see her climbing the tree that far from the house.
With the lemon tree looming above her Rosa checked she hadn’t been followed before testing out the branches. There was no movement from the villa, even Antonio and his disappointed maid had fallen quiet and Rosa concluded they must have returned inside.
Rosa had been climbing trees since she was a little girl, but concern for the baby inside her made her pause and evaluate for a moment longer. Knowing she had no choice, she hiked up her skirt and began to climb. Within two minutes she was sitting on the stone wall, regarding the drop on the other side. It was further down than on the villa side of the wall, due to a sloping of the land, maybe six or seven feet. There was a rough path running alongside the wall with nothing to cushion her drop. She could probably jump without doing herself too big an injury, but the tiny life inside her was another matter. Maybe if she lowered herself slowly whilst holding on to the top of the wall she would be safe.
She was still contemplating her options as she heard movement coming along the path. Footsteps and a low whistling became gradually louder as Rosa pressed herself into the stone and wondered what to do. At this height whoever was approaching might not see her, but if they happened to look up for any reason her escape attempt would be ruined.
The whistling got louder and Rosa knew there was nothing for it but to climb back over the wall until the man had passed. It went against every instinct to return to the grounds of her prison, but she kept telling herself it was only temporary. In a few minutes she would be back on top of the wall and on her way to freedom.
As she swung her legs over she felt herself toppling slightly. With the extra weight she was now carrying around her middle her equilibrium was off just slightly and as she windmilled her arms to try to regain her balance Rosa knew it wasn’t going to be enough. With a scream she fell backwards, wrapping her arms protectively around her belly and praying for a miracle.
* * *
Thomas felt his breath knocked from his lungs as something careened into him from above. One moment he’d been walking along lost in thought and the next he was flattened, unable to move.
‘Oooh...’ a soft voice moaned on top of him.
Thomas reached up and his hand met soft fabric. If he wasn’t much mistaken there was a woman lying on top of him, but he had no idea where she had come from.
‘Excuse me,’ he said in Italian eventually when the woman made no attempt to move. He almost laughed at the stiff formality of the words—even after three years of living abroad you still couldn’t remove his innate good manners.
There was some wriggling, then fingers digging into his ribcage as she manoeuvred herself upright. Thomas watched in a daze as the young woman ran her hands over her body as if checking for bumps and bruises, caressing her abdomen through the material of her dress.
‘Are you hurt?’ she asked eventually, once Thomas could see she was satisfied she had not injured herself in any obvious way. She spoke in Italian, but there was an accent that made him wonder if she was not native to this part of the world.
Testing out his theory, Thomas replied in English, ‘Just a little winded.’
‘You’re English.’
He could hear the note of fear in her voice and noticed how she begun to lean away from him as if he were about to do her harm.
‘Yes,’ he replied tersely. ‘Would you mind letting me up?’
‘Oh,’ the young woman said, mortification in her voice as she looked down and realised she was still straddling him. Quickly she stood, but as she transferred her weight to her left foot she cried out in pain. From his position on the ground Thomas saw her stumble and then come lurching back towards him. This time it was her elbow that caught him in the stomach and a slender knee in the groin area. For a moment Thomas felt the whole world blur with pain before he was back on the dusty country road with a woman on top of him.
‘I’m sorry,’ the young woman mumbled, too focused on her own pain to realise the extent of the damage she had inflicted on him.
Thomas just grunted, lying still until the ache had subsided, before gripping the young woman around the waist and firmly setting her on the road beside him.
Before deciding what to do next, he regarded the woman in front of him for a few moments. She was dusty and dishevelled, and at the moment her face was screwed up with pain, but if Thomas wasn’t much mistaken this was no common thief or intruder trying to escape the Di Mercurio property. She was too well dressed, her bearing and her speech too polished.
‘Why did you jump off the wall?’ Thomas asked.
Immediately he saw the young woman bristle.
‘I didn’t jump. I fell.’
‘Let me rephrase the question. Why were you climbing over the wall in the first place?’
‘That is none of your concern,’ she said primly.
Thomas watched her for a few seconds and then shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t about to browbeat the information from her, but she would tell him.
‘Would you like me to escort you back to the Di Mercurio villa, or fetch someone to come and get you?’ he asked lightly.
He actually saw the pallor bloom on her face as the blood drained away.
‘Please do not concern yourself,’ she said. ‘I’ll just get on my way and you can continue with your evening.’
‘You will need my help...’ he motioned to her left ankle ‘... I’d wager you won’t get far on your own.’
‘Truly, plea
se do not let me detain you further,’ she said with exaggerated politeness. Thomas could see he was beginning to irk her, but found himself unable to stop with his goading. He was enjoying this interaction more than he had any for months now.
He looked on with interest as she tottered to her feet, grimaced and bit down forcibly on her lower lip, presumably to stop her crying out in pain as she tried to put weight on her left foot. Thomas’s concern turned to amusement as she began hopping down the road and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud.
‘I don’t think anyone has ever gone to such lengths to avoid my company before,’ he mused loudly as he pushed himself upright and began to stroll along beside her.
She didn’t even spare him a look, just hopped resolutely onwards.
‘I hope you didn’t need to be somewhere in a hurry. You’re rather slow at hopping.’ This did earn him a glance, but no conversation.
Suddenly she stopped, changed direction and hopped unsteadily to the side of the road. Thomas watched with interest as she hefted a heavy fallen branch from the ground and tested it as a makeshift crutch. It didn’t look that helpful.
‘So let me guess,’ he said as she staggered onwards. ‘You’re a disgraced maid and you stole the family silver.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Two more steps, then she rested, looking back over her shoulder and appearing disappointed with how little progress they’d made.
‘You’re being forced to marry one of the unpleasant Di Mercurio boys and you’re fleeing on the eve of the wedding.’
‘That would be a very good reason to run,’ the young woman muttered under her breath.
‘I’ve got it,’ Thomas exclaimed. ‘They were going to offer you up as a ritual sacrifice to the devil.’
‘Why are you following me?’ she demanded.
‘I thought you might need some assistance.’
She stared at him with wide eyes and motioned to the nearly useless crutch. ‘You’re not providing any assistance so will you just leave me alone.’
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