Emily and the Dark Angel
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Teaser chapter
Praise for the Novels of Jo Beverley
Emily and the Dark Angel
RITA Award, Best Regency
Romantic Times Award, Best Regency Rake
Named as one of Romantic Times’s Best Romances of the Past 20 Years
“This marvelous love story has all the makings of a long-standing classic.”
—Romantic Times
A Lady’s Secret
“With wit and humor, Jo Beverley provides a wonderful eighteenth-century romance starring two amiable lead characters whose first encounter is one of the best in recent memory. The tale is filled with nonstop action.”
—The Best Reviews
Lady Beware
“Jo Beverley carries off a remarkable achievement in Lady Beware, the latest and possibly last in her Company of Rogues novels. . . . It is the unusual combination of familial comfort and risqué pleasure that makes this book a winner. . . . No doubt about it, Lady Beware is yet another jewel in Beverley’s heavily decorated crown.”
—The Romance Reader
“[E]nchanting . . . a delightful blend of wit (with banter between Thea and Darien), intrigue (as evil lurks throughout), and emotional victories (as love prevails in the end). . . . Watching Thea and Darien spar is entertaining, and watching them succumb to the simmering love and passion is satisfying.”
—The Columbia State (SC)
To Rescue a Rogue
“Lighthearted and serious, sexy and sweet, this exquisitely rendered story is a perfect finale to this classic series.”
—Library Journal
“Beverley brings the Regency period to life in this highly romantic story [with] vividly portrayed characters. [Readers] will be engrossed by this emotionally packed story of great love, tremendous courage, and the return of those attractive and dangerous men known as the Rogues. Her Company of Rogues series is well crafted, delicious, and wickedly captivating.”
—Joan Hammond
“With her usual beautifully nuanced characters and lyrical writing, RITA Award winner Beverley brings her popular Company of Rogues Regency historical series to a triumphant conclusion . . . [a] quietly powerful romance.” —
Booklist
The Rogue’s Return
“Beverley beautifully blends complex characters, an exquisitely sensual love story, and a refreshingly different Regency setting into one sublime romance.”
—Booklist
“Jo Beverley has written an excellent character study. One of the best books I’ve read this season.”
—Affaire de Coeur
A Most Unsuitable Man
“Picking up exactly where Winter Fire leaves off, Beverley turns a rejected ‘other woman’ into a fiery, outspoken, sympathetic heroine; pairs her with a dashing but penniless, scandal-ridden hero; and lets the fun—and the danger—begin. Once again readers are treated to a delightful, intricately plotted, and sexy romp set in the slightly bawdy Georgian world of Beverley’s beloved Malloren Chronicles.”
—Library Journal
“Beverley brings back some of the characters from Winter Fire as she takes her readers into the dangerous, intriguing, and opulent world of Georgian England. Her strong characters and finely honed dialogue, combined with a captivating love story, are a pleasure to read.”
—Romantic Times
“I found myself enjoying every minute of the relationship in this story of love, hope, and increments of witty humor. As usual, a Malloren novel is a keeper.”
—Rendezvous
“Expertly laced with danger and skillfully sweetened with sensuality, A Most Unsuitable Man is a most captivating romance.”
—Booklist
More Praise for Other Novels of
New York Times Bestselling Author Jo Beverley
“A delightful, intricately plotted, and sexy romp.”
—Library Journal
“A well-crafted story and an ultimately very satisfying romance.”
—The Romance Reader
“Jo [Beverley] has truly brought to life a fascinating, glittering, and sometimes dangerous world.”
—Mary Jo Putney
“Another triumph.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Wickedly delicious. Jo Beverley weaves a spell of sensual delight with her usual grace and flair.”
—Teresa Medeiros
“Delightful . . . thrilling . . . with a generous touch of magic . . . an enchanting read.”
—Booklist
“A stunning medieval romance of loss and redemption . . . sizzling.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A fast-paced adventure with strong, vividly portrayed characters . . . wickedly, wonderfully sensual and gloriously romantic.”
—Mary Balogh
“Deliciously sinful . . . Beverley evokes with devastating precision the decadent splendor of the English country estate in all its hellish debauchery . . . a crafty tale of sensuality and suspense.”
—BookPage
Also by Jo Beverley Available from New American Library
REGENCY THE ROGUE’S WORLD
Lady Beware
To Rescue a Rogue
The Rogue’s Return
Skylark
St. Raven
Hazard
“The Demon’s Mistress” in In Praise of Younger Men
The Devil’s Heiress
The Dragon’s Bride
Three Heroes (Omnibus Edition)
OTHER
Forbidden Magic
Lovers and Ladies (Omnibus Edition)
THE MALLOREN WORLD
The Secret Wedding
A Lady’s Secret
A Most Unsuitable Man
Winter Fire
Devilish
Secrets of the Night
Something Wicked
My Lady Notorious
MEDIEVAL ROMANCES
Lord of Midnight
Dark Champion
Lord of My Heart
ANTHOLOGIES
“The Dragon and the Virgin Princess” in
Dragon Lovers
“The Trouble with Heroes” in
Irresistible Forces
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Published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a Walker edition. Published by arrangement with the author.
First Signet Eclipse Printing, October 2010
Copyright © Jo Beverley, 1991
Excerpt from Forbidden Magic copyright © Jo Beverley Publications, Inc., 1998
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eISBN : 978-1-101-46447-2
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
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.
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My sister and my nephew helped significantly
with the research for this book.
Thank you, Eileen and William.
1
EMILY GRANTWICH flicked through the pages of her leather-bound record book. “It’s such an opportunity, Jonas.”
“That it is, Miss Emily. Old Griswold’s sheep be a rare flock. We won’t see its like up for sale again in a hurry. It likely won’t come up for auction for a week or two, but I know he’ll sell straight out if the price is right ...”
“There must be others interested,” Emily demurred.
“Aye. It’s the talk of the Beast Cross. But it’s not easy to lay hand on a few hundred just like that, I reckon.”
“I suspect it’s not so much the price, Jonas, as the land. With the war driving crop prices up, every scrap of land is under use. Ours as well as everyone else’s.”
Emily and her farm manager, Jonas Claythwait, had finished their day’s buying and selling and had moved a little way from the market square of Melton Mowbray. But there was no getting away from the animals that crowded the center of the town; the air was redolent of the farm, and lowing and bleating was the background music. Emily accepted it as naturally as most young ladies accepted perfume and dance melodies.
“We could always put ’em on High Burton,” said Jonas, scratching his nose thoughtfully.
“Hah!” was Emily’s comment. “I’ve no mind to chance anything until we know who old Casper’s heir is and what he’ll do about the property.”
“It’s a right shame to have that good land standing idle,” said Jonas, his rugged, weather-beaten face showing only innocence. “I hear the old man left everything to his nephew—some London dandy. He’d never know.”
“He’ll put in a manager,” warned Emily, but she was tempted all the same.
“A stranger, likely. Who’s to tell him the land’s contested? And what cause would a stranger have to come to killing over it? It’d be back to the courts where it’s been this half century or more.”
Emily smiled. It was close to a grin. It was true that since their neighbor, Casper Sillitoe, had died in September there had been no one to carry on the bloody feud over High Burton Farm, and it was a crying shame to see good pasture standing idle. . . .
“We’ll do it,” she said crisply. “Go back and offer Griswold his price for the flock, Jonas.”
He smiled, showing his crooked, stained teeth, and touched his old-fashioned tricorn. Then he said, “What about you, Miss Emily? You shouldn’t be walking about town all alone. Not this close to hunting.”
“Go on with you,” she said. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning. If there are any bucks and dandies in Melton two weeks before hunting starts, they’re safe in their beds nursing their port-sodden heads. I’ll wait for you at the inn.”
“Right then,” he said, and turned purposefully back to the cross where all the trading was done.
Emily set off for the George Hotel, where they’d left the gig, fretting slightly about her decision. It was the first time she’d made such a purchase without her father’s direct instruction. There would be cash to find to pay for the flock, and these days her father was very tetchy about cash. But Griswold’s sheep were too good an investment to pass up, and High Burton Farm was available . . .
It had been part of the dowry brought by Clara Sillitoe when she married Emily’s grandfather. In those days the families had been close and friendly. Clara, however, though a notable beauty, was frail. She had sickened and died within a year of the marriage. Everyone admitted that old Sir Henry Grantwich had been a poor husband; he’d been neglectful and had openly kept a mistress by whom he eventually had five children. On the other hand it had been clear that Clara was delicate and her family should perhaps have opposed such a marriage.
The grieving Sillitoes had accused Sir Henry of cruelty and neglect and demanded the return of the dowry. Henry bluntly refused. The matter was placed in the hands of the men of law and had remained there ever since—to no one’s satisfaction except the solicitors, who presented their accounts every quarter.
Both the Sillitoes and the Grantwiches, however, were practical country people, and good land could not be let waste. While each maintained their right to the entire property, they had unofficially divided it and used it as pasture through the years.
Until last spring.
The war was to blame, thought Emily. Which put all their problems on Napoleon Bonaparte’s shoulders. Well, they should be wide enough to carry the load.
The war had caused a steep rise in prices, making land-owners rich and some of them greedy. The new and growing popularity of Melton as the center of the hunting fraternity had created a great demand for fodder in an area which was traditionally grazing land. Casper Sillitoe, Clara’s nephew, had decided to put his half of the land to the plow and plant corn. Emily’s father, a new Sir Henry, had objected; it was one thing to let his opponent use the land, another to let him rip it up.
Casper had sent his plow to rip up Two Oak Field. Sir Henry had gone with all the men of the estate at his back to stop them. A pitched battle had resulted in injuries on both sides.
In the end it had come to a duel, man to man, across the weapons of their youth, rapiers. Emily had not been witness to the fight, but her imagination had always boggled at the thought of the two rotund, middle-aged men lunging and parrying on the hummocky grass of Two Oak Field.
It had been farce and had ended as tragedy. Her father had tripped and fallen. Casper had toppled over him, unintentionally driving his sword into his opponent’s back. The wound had not been deep, but it had damaged the spine. Emily’s father had not walked since.
To add to their problems, when word was sent to Emily’s brother, Captain Marcus Grantwich, to come home forthwith and take over the estate, the news came back that the captain was missing in action and feared dead. Which was how Emily came, somewhat reluctantly, to be managing the Grantwich properties.
After the Battle of Two Oaks, as the locals called it, Casper had abandoned his plowing, but in the aftermath no one had dared use the land at all. The mere word of it sent Sir Henry into a paroxysm of rage. Casper had retreated into sullen mis
anthropy and taken to drink, so that all his affairs slid into chaos.
One night in September, Casper rode out drunk to Two Oak Field. He set his horse at the fence there, fell, and broke his neck. Sir Henry said good riddance and that he wished he’d been granted such a clean death; some in the area put it down to guilty conscience or even the hand of God; most just reckoned it to be bad luck and wondered who’d inherit from the old bachelor.
Emily was jerked out of her thoughts by a warning shout. She stepped quickly back to clear the way for a brawny man carrying an amazing quantity of bricks in a hod. He nodded his thanks as he raced towards a new house rising up where lately there had been a market garden. A cart full of the bricks stood in the road waiting to be unloaded. There was so much new building now that Melton had become the Queen of the Shires. After all, the town had become the mecca for the hunting fraternity.
Foxhunting had slowly been growing in popularity over the past fifty years or so, but it was only since the turn of the century that the addicts of hunting had realized the unique advantage offered by Melton Mowbray.