Lord Misrule
by
Donna Cummings
Book 1 of The Matchmaking Earl Series
Juliana, Lady Courtenay, is no stranger to scandal. Not after her late husband died in the bed of another man. Now that the mourning period for her unwanted marriage is over, she is impatient to celebrate her freedom—and what better way than with a love affair during the most festive time of year? Finally she can experience the excitement of spending the entire night with a man completely devoted to her pleasure. Except when she asks Lord Misrule to be her very first lover, the rogue declines.
Lord Misrule is eager for a diversion that will banish the regrets that always resurface during the Christmas season. Yet he cannot accept the desirable widow's tempting offer. If he did, it would be impossible to adhere to his strict rules for affairs—no debutantes, no innocents, and no attachments—all of which are necessary to prevent future misfortune.
But when it seems Lady Courtenay will choose a less-than-honorable man to be her lover, Lord Misrule's chivalrous nature insists he charge to her rescue. He offers her a twelve-day affair, intent on providing her a fortnight of pleasure without causing her heart, or his, a lifetime of harm.
Previously published in the A Very Wicked Christmas anthology
Copyright 2016 Donna Cummings. All Rights Reserved.
Cover by Carrie Peters, http://www.cheekycovers.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter One
“I swear you are hellbent on never again enjoying Christmas.”
Nicholas Harding, Lord Blaise, smiled at the consternation on his friend Martin’s face. “How could anyone find this season an enjoyable one?” He surveyed the crush of people laughing and dancing merrily in the overheated ballroom. “The relentless good cheer, spread over a multitude of days—nearly a fortnight. I find it all rather exhausting.”
Martin snorted. “Nothing exhausts you. I have seen you spend the night at the gaming tables, after dancing attendance on every female at a ball, and then hieing off to pass the remaining hours with an energetic opera dancer.”
Nicholas shrugged, his lips twitching. “That would be my customary routine, yes. But the Christmas revelries always manage to intrude. Another good reason to wish them gone.”
“Perhaps this year will be different.” Martin’s voice was gentler, even hopeful. “You can once more take on the mantle of Lord Misrule.”
Not after it had been the cause of all his troubles in the first place.
“And perhaps it shall be like last year,” Nicholas countered, “spent with a beauty from Covent Garden. Or the one before that, when a lovely widow gifted me with many wonderful, memorable moments.”
Martin studied him for a moment. “You know you are always welcome to spend the holiday with my family. Although I understand if you decline, since they are such a boisterous lot.” He wrinkled his nose. “Once I am finally leg-shackled, I shall refuse to have as many children as my parents did. It is impossible to have a moment’s peace with so many siblings constantly underfoot.”
Nicholas laughed, his good mood restored by his friend’s wry comments. “I appreciate your generous offer. But we shall all be better off if I devote the next fortnight to less familial, more pleasurable pursuits.”
“You may be right. Though I doubt you shall find anyone here to join you. Anyone you have not already engaged in a liaison, I mean.”
Nicholas had his doubts as well. Still, he perused the assembly once more, hopeful for a diversion. Someone he could enjoy while keeping each one of his rules intact: no debutantes, no innocents, and no attachments.
A young woman unexpectedly caught his eye. How could she have not? Her beauty was remarkable—dark hair, a lovely countenance, and a smile flitting about lips that were meant for long, leisurely kisses.
“Who might that be? I do not recall seeing her previously.” Her eyes seemed to dance with merriment, completely captivated by everything going on around her, as if seeing it all for the first time. He nearly groaned at his bad luck. “She’s a debutante, isn’t she?”
Martin looked in the direction Nicholas nodded, and started chuckling. “Not at all. She was recently widowed. Just coming out of mourning actually.”
“Widowed? That cannot be possible.”
“How do you not know these things? Oh, I forgot. You were rusticating then, because of… Anyway, she is Lady Courtenay, and her husband—”
“I remember that name. Some sort of scandal that was hushed up. Not involving her, though.”
“Her husband died in a bed that was not his own.” Martin lowered his voice even further, although no one was close enough to overhear him. “It was a blessing, in one way, since he would have likely faced criminal charges. There’s still speculation as to who the other man was.”
Nicholas glanced her way again, quite taken by Lady Courtenay’s joie de vivre, despite what must have been a difficult marital situation. He would have expected someone a bit more jaded, world-weary even. Instead, she was an intriguing mix of innocence and barely-contained excitement.
Just the sort of woman he made it a rule to avoid.
“She could be in the market for the company of someone such as yourself,” Martin added.
“You are playing matchmaker now?”
“Lord Hartstone, the matchmaking earl. It does have a certain cachet.” Martin grinned. “And with all of these siblings that must be wed one day, I may as well practice with you.”
“I am confident the line of succession can wait at least another fortnight.” Nicholas contemplated the beauty across the room and then shook his head. “Besides, we would not suit.”
“How can you know without even speaking to her?”
Nicholas shrugged, but he knew precisely why they would not suit. She reminded him too much of another young woman, one who had mistaken Lord Misrule’s lighthearted attentions as something more. Her eyes had brimmed with optimism when she had publicly declared her love, but the joy had quickly faded to bitterness, and finally hopelessness.
Guilt had been his constant companion ever since.
“I know what sort of woman I need,” Nicholas said. “And I am quite certain this one does not possess any of those qualities.”
Martin snorted his disbelief, but Nicholas ignored it, heading towards the card room.
Hopefully he would find some amusement there, needing a few blissful hours to escape his dread of the upcoming festive season—and the regretful memories that always accompanied it.
~ * ~
Juliana, Lady Courtenay scanned the crowd once more, seeking the man she was determined to have as her lover.
He was nowhere to be found. Surely he had been invited. No society event would be complete without his attendance. Perhaps he had departed before she had even made her way into the crush of revelers.
She tamped down her disappointment and strolled around the edge of the crowded ballroom. Several interested glances were thrown her direction, but it was easy enough to ignore them. Their attentions were usually due to her l
ate husband’s scandalous demise, or the large fortune he had bestowed upon her.
Juliana stopped, enchanted by the unbridled joy of the participants dancing and chattering with each other. Greenery had been brought in to decorate the ballroom, making it festive, as well as fragrant. There were even sprigs of mistletoe hanging in little alcoves, a daring invitation to steal kisses when no one was looking.
She smiled. This was not only a wonderful entrée into society after her ill-fated marriage, it was the perfect setting for embarking on her very first love affair.
Her gaze finally landed on the handsome gentleman across the room, the one she had sought. He glanced her direction, and when he did not look away, a frisson of excitement raced up her spine.
It was no wonder he was called Lord Misrule, a twist on the title given to the one who presided over the most raucous of holiday festivities. His hair was nearly as black as his elegant evening wear. His expression might have been described by some as forbidding, but then his lips lifted in a slow smile, as if he knew every one of her secret desires, as well as his role in them.
Her face heated instantly. She had been too shy to flirt with him during her brief coming-out years ago. But during the loneliest moments of her marriage, she had comforted herself by imagining what it might be like to share a kiss with Lord Misrule under the mistletoe, or, even more shocking, to have that dark-haired gentleman be the first to set foot over her threshold at the New Year.
This year she would not need to imagine it. She would know firsthand.
Juliana saw him abruptly leave the ballroom. She held her breath for a moment, gathering her nerve, and then hurried after him. It was utterly mad, what she was doing, but she could not contain her excitement.
He sauntered in the direction of the card room, and she trailed behind, as discreetly as possible. She apologized when she accidentally elbowed someone in the crowd, and stopped momentarily to express her regret at stepping on a hem.
When she glanced up once more, he was gone. Her heart sank as she frantically sought him out. He was tall, so it should have been easy to spot him amongst the numerous guests milling about. She stood on tiptoe, her eyes darting every direction to catch a glimpse of him, unwilling to accept defeat.
At last!
She spied him strolling towards the terrace doors instead of the card room. It suited her purposes even better. Juliana followed him, pulling her shawl closer, though it was more decorative than functional, and was not likely to keep the bracing temperature at bay for very long.
Hopefully he would accept her proposition with alacrity, preventing both of them from catching their death before they could commence this affair.
He slipped through the door, closing it behind him. Or he attempted to, but she followed him outside.
He was momentarily startled, but his expression instantly showed his appreciation at being joined by her. He gazed at her as if cataloguing every feature. From his smile, he was clearly pleased by what he saw.
She shivered, from anticipation, as well as the cool December air wending its way through her thin silk dress.
“It is such a crush inside,” she said, her voice a little breathier than she expected. “I am not accustomed to crowds of that size.”
“Then you have not attended any of Lady Radwell’s events. She does not consider it a success unless there are twice as many in attendance as her ballroom can comfortably hold.” He grinned. “I suspect half of them tonight are still attempting to leave from her previous ball.”
She laughed. “Then we must count ourselves fortunate that we escaped, even for a moment.”
“Most fortunate.”
His blue eyes locked with hers, and she felt her heart racing, unused to such intense regard. His words seemed laced with meaning beyond their lighthearted discussion of the event. Yet she was not certain, having so little experience with society, or with rakes like him.
It made her decision even more exhilarating. She opened her mouth to deliver her proposition, but his words halted her.
“I feel duty-bound to warn you away. Being alone with me is ruinous to a young woman’s reputation. But if you slip back inside now, no one will be the wiser about this clandestine meeting.”
“I appreciate your suggestion.” Juliana dared to move a pace closer. “But I am not concerned about preserving my reputation. I know my name is bandied about by everyone in the ton.”
He did not pretend to misunderstand her. “Your name is bandied about for reasons having nothing to do with you. Or me.”
“At present, yes.” She smiled, and he inclined his head, as if intrigued by her answer. “But who knows what will result when the New Year arrives?”
He lifted his eyebrows slightly. “It sounds as if you have some sort of plan.”
“I do. I plan to have you as my lover.”
Chapter Two
Nicholas would have gasped, except he did not relish the thought of cold air rushing into his lungs. His body responded instantly to her bold words, however, and his thoughts immediately went to having her in his bed, slowly undressing her, trailing kisses over every inch of her exquisite skin…
He drew nearer, ready to pull her into his arms, giving his hearty assent. But her eyes were shining with anticipation, not the avarice of an experienced woman eager for a new lover.
He tried to brush his misgivings away, concentrating instead on the delights of making love to this beauty. Her breathing had sped up, her lips parted expectantly, and her bosom was rising and falling in the most entrancing way.
Yet he knew that disappointment, not this lovely creature, was fated to be his companion this evening. She might be a widow, but she was also overflowing with innocence. He could not be the one to destroy that. Once in a lifetime was too much, even for him.
Nicholas lifted her gloved hand to his lips. “I fear I must thwart your plans, Lady Courtenay.”
“But why?” He saw a flush spread across her cheeks, yet she did not drop her gaze. “Oh, of course. You do not find me desirable.”
He nearly choked. “That is not at all the case. In truth, I find you much too desirable.”
She studied him, as if gauging the truth of his words. “You cannot take a lover that you find too desirable?”
He shrugged, hoping the explanation would suffice. He had no intentions of revealing anything more. One day she would thank the fates that he had let her escape with her happiness intact.
When he did not answer, she reached for the door handle, but then halted. “You are not at all what I expected,” she said in a bemused voice. “The gossips are constantly talking of how you never spend the night in your own bed, but now I wonder.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “Now you know why gossip is so irresistible. It tends to give a person a more exciting life than the one they actually lead.”
“So you do spend the night in your own bed?”
He winked. “A portion of it, yes. But I count it the most boring part of the evening—the hours I spend actually sleeping.”
“Ahh, you do not sleep in the bed where you…entertain yourself.”
“I ensure it is not merely entertaining for myself. Once the ‘entertainment’ has ended, the lady is sleeping quite peacefully. Blissfully even.”
Her lips pursed with a hint of disapproval. “Unable to notice you are departing.”
“It would be churlish to wake them, would it not?”
It was her turn to laugh. “You have managed to take a roguish moment and transform it into a charitable one. Just as you refused me and complimented me at the same time.”
“It may be one reason I am so popular with the female population.”
“The ones you do not find too desirable.”
What an intriguing chit! He was tempted to accept her offer after all, for it had been much too long since anyone had engaged him in this fashion. Yet if history had taught him anything, it was that her sweet mien was at risk, even more so if he bedded her. Could
he be blamed for trying to be chivalrous, for once? Not that anyone would believe he had acted in such a high-minded manner.
He could scarce believe it himself.
“There have been very few of those,” he finally admitted. “The ones I find too desirable.”
She continued to examine him for several moments. He braced himself for an argument, or petulance, or something other than what she actually delivered: a slow smile which lit up her face.
This time he did catch his breath. Her expression was nothing short of rapturous. He could not help but imagine bringing that same expression to her face, after she had found a release only he could give her.
An odd sensation of possessiveness overtook him. Perhaps he had spoken too rashly, refusing her as he had.
“Lady Courtenay—”
“I apologize, my lord. I have been away from society longer than I realized, and I am still learning how to get on.” She bobbed a quick curtsey. “I appreciate your candor, as well as your kindness, and can only hope you will not hold my enthusiastic request against me.”
“I—”
She opened the door and swept inside the ballroom, yet not in a huff, nor with any evidence of vexation. He tried to tell himself it was a relief not to have to deal with tears and bruised feelings and recriminations, now or in the future.
So why the devil did he feel so downcast all of a sudden?
Nicholas sauntered into the ballroom, seeking another glimpse of Lady Courtenay, even though he had already warned himself away from her.
Apparently he had little interest in heeding his own good advice, or his rules.
“No one to keep you company this evening?” Martin drawled.
“I have actually turned down a most intriguing invitation.” Nicholas chuckled. “And now I wonder why.”
“Do tell. I have not been so fortunate myself.”
Lord Misrule (The Matchmaking Earl Book 1) Page 1
