A Rogue's Surrender: Regency Novellas

by Lauren Smith

  Over the past few weeks she’d snuck into the Rothmore house multiple times in the dead of night. There was no sign of them. But he must have been holding them somewhere. He’d made threats to make the radicals disappear and then her brother and sister-in-law had gone missing. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  As she stared at the man she was about to marry, the sick taste in her mouth didn’t dissipate but some of her anxiety faded.

  Rothmore might not be a nice man, but he wasn’t cruel, either. She trusted her instincts when it came to reading people, and while the baron might be crotchety and cantankerous, there was nothing evil in his eyes. If he had done something with Daniel and Madeline, that meant they were safe. Perhaps imprisoned, but not in danger. They just had to remain patient until she could free them.

  Her gaze was caught by his son, Lord Vancleef, who stood at his father’s side. He’d expressed an interest in courting her when she and her family had first arrived but every time he looked at her, her skin crawled. He might have been closer in age, but his father was the lesser of two evils. Besides, while his son looked at her with undisguised desire, his elderly father treated her like a glorified housemaid, hardly a woman at all. He’d made it clear he was merely looking for someone to run his household and seemed to have little interest in getting her into his bed.

  Still, she felt a jolt of revulsion when the minister took his place beside them and joined their hands. All eyes were fixed on her in the small gathering. Both the baron and his son were watching her like she might run away.

  Not that the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

  She might have if she could have thought of any other solution. But really, it had been more than a month and if she didn’t find her family soon, she would be all alone in the world. She had few choices left.

  Besides, if they didn’t return to her, she would be forced to marry. It wasn’t like she had distant relatives who would take her in, and while Daniel earned a decent income, she wouldn’t be left with enough to be independently wealthy. But no…she couldn’t think about that options.

  They would come home to her. She would make sure of it.

  “We’re gathered here today…” The minister’s voice was a dull, buzzing sound as her brain and her gut fought a battle.

  Mentally she knew this was what she had to do, but her body rebelled. Her heart squeezed painfully.

  She wasn’t a romantic, by any means, but even she could admit that this was not what she’d imagined her wedding day to be. She should have had friends in the pews and her family at her side. She should have been giddy with excitement and breathless with anticipation.

  She should have been looking up into stormy gray eyes, not these watery blue ones.

  Her breath caught in her throat as the image of the man she dreamed of marrying filled her head. Inhaling deeply, she wiped the image from her mind. She’d given up that fairytale daydream years ago. Even so, her heart cried out to her that this man standing across from her was not who she was meant to marry.

  Seconds seemed to tick by in slow motion as she waited for her turn to declare her obedience and love to this stranger standing across from her.

  If anyone thought that Lydia Ashford would be obedient to any man, he had another thing coming. That thought helped her resolve strengthen. She pushed her shoulders back and tilted her chin up high.

  She was doing this for family. Once she found them, they would help her out of this mess. That was what annulments were for, were they not? Her fears were unfounded and she vowed then and there to see this plan through and deal with the ramifications after.

  She never got a chance to see what those ramifications might be. Nor did she have an opportunity to see the wedding through.

  At that moment the doors to the chapel slammed open as if shoved by the hand of God Himself. Everyone in the chapel gasped in unison as a large, dark-haired man with a bandana around the lower half of his face rode into the chapel on his horse, not slowing down as it headed straight toward the altar. Straight toward the minister.

  Merciful heaven.

  He was heading straight toward her.

  Her head ached but nothing hurt so badly as her pride.

  It wasn’t every day one was unceremoniously tossed over the back of horse, backside in the air, in front of God, a minister, and a husband-to-be. She didn’t care much about her loss of dignity. What irritated the hell out of her was that she had been caught so off guard. As it was her wedding day, she’d left her concealed knife at home.

  Ridiculous mistake. Though this ninny-headed captor hadn’t bothered to tie her hands or my feet so she could get herself out of this debacle once the horse slowed down. In the meantime, she bounced, bruised, and cursed as loudly as she could.

  When the horse slowed, she made her move, kicking and twisting until she nearly fell over the edge.

  Nearly.

  A large hand stopped her, pulling her back onto the mount roughly. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Lydia’s entire body froze. And then it heated. She stiffened even as her muscles went weak. Her body seemed to go in opposite directions at once as relief, shock, and horror vied for attention.

  “Gabriel?” Her voice came out as a squeak as the horse came to a stop and she scrambled upright to see his face.

  He pulled down the material covering his face and the glare he fixed her with left her temporarily speechless.

  It didn’t last long.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She slithered off the horse’s back as he dismounted. He came behind her and tried to aid her but she lashed out by kicking him in the thigh for his efforts. Really, a man couldn’t kidnap a woman and then expect to be treated with civility.

  He muttered an oath under his breath but she still felt his hands on her waist helping her off the horse whether she wanted his assistance or not. And she did not.

  “Get your hands off me.” Her tone was too harsh and she could feel the heat in her cheeks, a sure sign that her face was turning crimson.

  She grit her teeth and clenched her hands into fists as she struggled to regain some measure of composure. Her chest was heaving as she tried to breathe normally. The rough ride had knocked the wind out of her and then, just as she’d managed to recover her breath, Gabriel had touched her, sending the air from her lungs once more.

  Glancing around, she realized that Gabriel had ridden straight out of the chapel through the back doors and into the woods that surrounded the Rothmore property. She swung back around to face him, no longer heeding his glare. “Have you gone mad? What did you think you were doing back there?”

  He took two steps toward her until he was looming over her. When he spoke it was through clenched teeth, “Saving you.”

  Her eyes widened as his words struck her like a physical blow. Before he could continue, she took a step toward him so he was so close she could kick him again if need be. She hated how tall he was. Or how short she was. Either way, she detested the fact that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. But she did it, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance. “You were saving me? From what?”

  His expression darkened and his brows fell. “From yourself, apparently.”

  She gasped with outrage. How dare he? What right did he have to judge her actions? Before she could sputter out any of her thoughts, he continued in that self-righteous tone that made her head spin with anger. “What the hell was going on back there?”

  She leaned forward, as if she might intimidate him with her closeness if not her size. “What do you think? I was about to be married.” She uncrossed her arms so she could swat his arm. Hard. “Until you came along and ruined everything.”

  His jaw tightened and he stood straighter. Blasted man was trying to rub her nose in the fact that he towered over her. “We are not discussing this here. Get back on the horse, we need to get out of here.”

  Her mouth fell open at his command. “Not bloody likely.”

&nbs
p; He leaned down and spoke in a low, slow voice. “I just kidnapped the bride-to-be from a baron. We need to leave.”

  She poked his chest as she spoke, noting absently that it was solid as a rock. “You need to leave. They’ll be looking for you. I am willing and able to go back to that church and marry the baron, as I set out to do this morning.”

  “Like hell you will,” he growled. His eyes flashed with anger and…something else. Something far more passionate and so intense it stole her breath away, though not her fire.

  “You’re not my guardian, Gabriel, and you’re certainly not my husband. You cannot tell me what to do.”

  The sudden silence was deafening. She heard his heavy breathing along with her own. It seemed either they were both winded from the ride or they were suffering from the same overload of emotions.

  Whatever Gabriel was suffering from, it clearly took a toll on his sanity. Because his scowl disappeared and for one sudden moment she was blinded by a flash of a smile that robbed her of thoughts, words, and the ability to move.

  She’d never seen that smile before. To be fair, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him smile at all before, let alone that smile. The grin was mischievous and resolute and…oh dear, it was sexy as hell.

  “Can’t I?” The words were said on a growl and before she could open her mouth to respond, he scooped her into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The sound of horses’ hooves and shouting could be heard coming from the direction of the chapel. She could call out. There was a chance they would hear her.

  But something stopped her. This ridiculous man with his iron grip around her waist and his stern glare had somehow managed to rob her of all her faculties. It wasn’t until he tossed her up onto the horse in front of him that she recovered her senses. But by then it was too late.

  Gabriel had kidnapped her.

  Again.

  Chapter Four

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Wren was pacing the Ashfords’ small cottage, his face the picture of distress.

  His normally clean-cut blond hair was a disheveled mess from twenty minutes spent running his hands through it as he paced and shouted in front of Gabriel.

  Gabriel summoned the other man to help him come up with a plan. So far, his friend had done little more than panic and judge.

  Gabriel shifted in his seat in front of the fire. Not that he was proud of his actions. He’d never thought he’d see the day when he kidnapped a woman, let alone Daniel’s little sister. The woman he’d sworn to protect.

  But then, that was exactly why he’d done it. Could no one else see that? He needed to protect this damn woman by any means necessary. Especially if she was bound and determined to get herself into trouble.

  Lydia certainly hadn’t understood. She’d given him a tongue-lashing on the ride back to her house. She’d even managed to get in some more kicks and blows as he’d finagled her inside the house and into her room.

  “Where is she?” Wren asked.

  He took a deep breath, preparing for another lecture when he informed his friend that he’d locked her in her room.

  A delicate, lilting, all-too-familiar voice came from the doorway. The now unlocked and open door he was sure he’d bolted tight. “I’m right here.”

  He shot up out of his chair and took two steps toward her before pausing, uncertain of what he was about to do. She seemed to have the same thought as she raised one brow in what could only be described as a challenging look.

  “How did you get out?” he finally asked, curiosity winning out over annoyance. He’d locked her in to ensure she wouldn’t go running off to do something stupid again.

  She rolled her eyes at the question as she straightened her gloves. If she was hoping to show off the fact that she’d also managed to escape from the cord he’d tied her up with…well, she succeeded.

  “Go back to your room,” he ordered.

  She ignored him as she walked past him and flopped down onto the settee where she was promptly joined by a concerned Wren. “All you all right, darling?”

  Darling. Gabriel gave a snort of disdain. Wren had always been a sweet talker—all charm and elegance. Gabriel’s exact opposite, in that sense. Wren’s flirtatiousness had never bothered him. Until now.

  “She’s fine,” he growled. Thanks to him. If he hadn’t stepped in, what then? She would have been married.

  Her voice interrupted his train of thought. “I’m fine, thank you, Wren.” She reached out and patted his hand, and Gabriel made a sound that was remarkably feral. Bloody hell, he needed to get a grip. He’d been in a fit of temper ever since Vivian had shown him Lydia’s letter detailing her plans.

  Lydia continued, apparently oblivious to his temper. “I’m fine now that you’re here, Wren. Do you know Gabriel tied me up and locked me in my room?”

  Wren gaped at him, his eyes round with shock. “You didn’t.”

  “He did.” Lydia sounded remarkably calm about it all. Too calm.

  “Why would you do such a thing?” Wren had clearly taken it upon himself to be her champion. Misguided as that might be, he couldn’t blame the fellow. Lydia had a soft innocence about her that would make any man ache to take care of her. Keep her safe, sheltered, and happy.

  But Wren, like all the others, had no idea that she was the most thick-headed, stubborn, and determined young woman in existence. And frustrating. He couldn’t forget frustrating. Right now she was fixing him with a haughty stare, one that said she knew exactly what he was thinking and was three steps ahead.

  Most likely because she was. And no, this was not paranoia. It was years of experience dealing with her. As her self-appointed guardian in Daniel’s absence he’d gotten to know Lydia better than most, and she was clever. Possibly too smart for her own good, because her high intelligence was matched with a complete and utter lack of self-preservation and a sense of determination that put Napoleon and his army to shame.

  But now was not the time nor the place to attempt to enlighten Wren. Not with Lydia standing there looking far too pleased with herself. Almost as if…

  “Lydia, what are you up to?”

  Her wide-eyed innocent look didn’t fool anyone in the room. Not even Wren, who let out a snort of amusement at her antics.

  When she realized her act was lost on this crowd, who knew her too well, she threw her arms up and flopped back in her seat in a manner that was completely at odds with the demure ladylike façade she’d just donned. She pouted up at Gabriel. “Stop glaring, it’s rude.”

  “Ruder than kidnapping you and keeping you tied up?” Wren asked, honest curiosity in his voice.

  “Yes,” Lydia said. “For I can understand his earlier actions, even if they were far too dramatic.” When Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, she continued uninterrupted. “And unwarranted.”

  “Unwarranted?” Gabriel’s voice rose, which was a rare event and one that had Wren and Lydia staring at him in surprise.

  Wren sighed. “Gabriel, take a seat. One of you needs to explain what exactly is going on here.”

  To his dismay, he and Lydia both started speaking at once, sounding like a couple of bickering children. Wren put a stop to their attempts to speak over one another with a raised hand and a surprisingly fierce glare. “One at a time.” He nodded toward Lydia. “Ladies first.”

  Gabriel watched with some amazement as this woman—this infuriating, bullheaded woman—straightened her shoulders and smoothed her skirts before smiling prettily up at Wren. “It’s all very simple really. I was about to be married, and Gabriel ruined everything.”

  Gabriel shot back up out of his seat. “Tell Wren who you were planning to marry. And for the love of God, please explain to me what the hell you were thinking.”

  Lydia gave him a chastising look as she made a tsking sound he hadn’t heard since he’d left the schoolroom. “Language, Gabriel.”

  Wren’s lips were twitching in an
obvious attempt to keep from smiling. “Yes, Gabriel. Please do mind your language. There’s a lady present.”

  “She is no lady,” he grumbled as he stalked over toward the settee where Lydia sat. “She’s a little hellion.”

  She blinked up at him before giving him a dazzling smile that hit him square in the solar plexus and threatened to steal his breath away. It was no secret that Lydia had grown up to become quite the beauty. And her charm could never be denied. But she’d never looked at him like that before. Never smiled at him like that.

  His muscles tensed as desire made him hard.

  There was nothing girlish about that smile. Nothing youthful or sweet. That smile was all woman and it shook him to his core. Where the hell had Daniel’s little sister gone? The girl who’d followed him around the grounds with a look of adoration and respect? Hell, maybe he should have agreed to marry her, at least then she would be morally obligated to honor and obey.

  And love.

  He shoved that thought away. Lydia could never love a hardened, jaded brute like him, no matter what vows she was forced to say aloud in a church. The thought of her loving him was just as laughable as the idea of her honoring or obeying him. Or anyone, for that matter.

  He turned to Wren. Maybe he could talk some sense into her. “Ask her who she was about to marry.”

  Wren turned to her with a look of tolerant patience, every bit the older brother. “Who were you planning to marry, my dear?”

  She cast one quick, irritated glare in Gabriel’s direction before responding. “The Baron of Rothmore.”

  Gabriel felt a stab of vindication as Wren made the connection and his eyes widened in horror. “The man your brother was investigating?”

  Lydia pursed her lips in lieu of an answer.

  “Yes,” Gabriel answered on her behalf. “She was about to commit herself to the man who’s threatened to imprison radicals in the area.”

  At Wren’s horrified look, Lydia chimed in. “He’s not so bad, really.”

  “He’s old enough to be your grandfather.” Wren’s expression had turned to disgust, and Gabriel couldn’t blame him. The idea of beautiful, lively Lydia being shackled to a gray-haired man with a limp and a child who was older than her…it was revolting to imagine.