A Rogue in the Making (Forever Yours Book 11)
Page 1
A Rogue in the Making
Forever Yours Series
Stacy Reid
A ROGUE IN THE MAKING is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either 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.
All rights reserved. No part of these books may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
Edited by AuthorsDesigns
Cover design and formatting by AuthorsDesigns
Copyright © First Edition October 2020
Dusean, always and forever.
Free Offer
Sign up to my Newsletter to claim your free book!
To claim your FREE copy of Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night, a delightful and sensual romp to indulge in your reading addiction, please click here.
Once you’ve signed up, you’ll be among the first to hear about my new releases, read excerpts you won't find anywhere else, and patriciate in subscriber’s only giveaways and contest. I send out on dits once a month and on super special occasion I might send twice, and please know you can unsubscribe whenever we no longer zing.
Happy reading!
Stacy Reid
Contents
Praise for novels of Stacy Reid
Other books by Stacy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Afterword
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Free Offer
Acknowledgments
About Stacy
Praise for novels of Stacy Reid
“Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night is a sensual romance with explosive chemistry between this hero and heroine!"—Fresh Fiction Review
"From the first page, Stacy Reid will captivate you! Smart, sensual, and stunning, you will not want to miss Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night!"—USA Today bestselling author Christi Caldwell
"I would recommend The Duke's Shotgun Wedding to anyone who enjoys passionate, fast-paced historical romance."—Night Owl Reviews
“Accidentally Compromising the Duke—Ms. Reid's story of loss, love, laughter and healing is all that I look for when reading romance and deserving of a 5-star review."—Isha C., Hopeless Romantic
"Wicked in His Arms—Once again Stacy Reid has left me spellbound by her beautifully spun story of romance between two wildly different people."—Meghan L., LadywithaQuill.com
"Wicked in His Arms—I truly adored this story and while it's very hard to quantify, this book has the hallmarks of the great historical romance novels I have read!"—KiltsandSwords.com
“One for the ladies...Sins of a Duke is nothing short of a romance lover's blessing!”—WTF Are You Reading
"THE ROYAL CONQUEST is raw, gritty and powerful, and yet, quite unexpectedly, it is also charming and endearing."—The Romance Reviews
Other books by Stacy
Series Boxsets
Forever Yours Series Bundle (Book 1-3)
Forever Yours Series Bundle (Book 4-6)
Forever Yours Series Bundle (Book 7-9)
The Amagarians: Book 1-3
Sinful Wallflowers series
My Darling Duke
Her Wicked Marquess
Forever Yours series
The Marquess and I
The Duke and I
The Viscount and I
Misadventures with the Duke
When the Earl was Wicked
A Prince of my Own
Sophia and the Duke
The Sins of Viscount Worsley
An Unconventional Affair
Mischief and Mistletoe
A Rogue in the Making
The Kincaids
Taming Elijah
Tempting Bethany
Lawless: Noah Kincaid
Rebellious Desires series
Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night
The Earl in my Bed
Wedded by Scandal Series
Accidentally Compromising the Duke
Wicked in His Arms
How to Marry a Marquess
When the Earl Met His Match
Scandalous House of Calydon Series
The Duke’s Shotgun Wedding
The Irresistible Miss Peppiwell
Sins of a Duke
The Royal Conquest
The Amagarians
Eternal Darkness
Eternal Flames
Eternal Damnation
Eternal Phoenyx
Single Titles
Letters to Emily
Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night
The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton
Chapter 1
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The harsh rap of her knuckles on the large oak door reverberated up Miss Juliana Pryce’s arm, but she stalwartly pressed onward. Knock. Knock. Knock. She tried the doorbell a few times to no avail, and desperation lent her the strength to slam her fist against the door. The chill of the early winter wind bit at her bones and the sun was a mere decoration in the gray overcast sky, for it afforded no heat to her body. This autumn promised to be dreary and bitingly cold. Perhaps it might even snow this December.
The door opened, and a sharp breath of relief left her. “I’m Miss Juliana Pryce, and I am here to call upon Lord Spencer Prendergast. Please announce me immediately. It is about to start raining.”
The butler looked down his nose at her, and Juliana winced, perfectly capable of imagining her own bedraggled appearance. She’d jumped from a moving carriage and then had hidden in the bushes for quite a long time. Her trek to London had been long, frightening, and had involved traveling for some time in a hay cart, before striding up the cobbled streets of Mayfair.
“Lord Prendergast is not at home to callers,” the butler said with a small wrinkle of his nose.
“My good man, you’ll inform him that Miss Juliana Pryce, sister to Mr. Robert Pryce, requests an audience most urgently. They are friends, and I must prevail upon him regarding a request from my brother. Forgive my rudeness, but I will not leave until I have seen the earl. Even if I have to stand here and make a spectacle of myself for hours which I assure you will cause terrible speculation.”
An empty threat, but given her air of desperation and dishevelment, the man might believe her. And he did, for he eased the door open and allowed her inside.
“May I take your coat and bonnet?”
With trembling fingers, she untied the strings to her bonnet and coat, handing them over to the waiting butler. He led her down the long hallway and into a small room, which seemed to be a private parlor. Once there, she made her way to the fire, grateful for the crackling flames. The room appeared to be decorated in the late Baroque style, or Rococo with considerable ornamentation, but in anachronistic reds and purples.
The color scheme was rather oppressive, especially against the ornamentation of gilded moldings and cluttered surfaces. An ormolu clock of great size, and fantastical design, sat on the overmantel. It was embellished with nymphs, putti, and forest creatures, which Juliana thought were particularly unflattering.
The plethora of trinkets and baubles appeared to have been chosen for their cost, rather than in any aest
hetic style or overall plan. The room shrieked ‘I am wealthy and do not have a jot of taste.’ Juliana noticed overstuffed upholstery and tasseled cushions in a variety of complicated patterns. She did not sit in any of them, feeling somewhat overpowered by the décor and fearing she would be sucked into the overwhelming chintz and tapestries. Juliana didn’t have to wait long for the door to open and Lord Prendergast to enter.
Juliana observed a gentleman in his mid-thirties with a high complexion and excessive dark eyebrows that seemed to take over his face. They were in contrast to his brutally shorn mousy hair and somewhat sparse mustache. His waistline was already showing a tendency to corpulence, and she suspected it would not be long before he gained at least an extra chin.
“Miss Pryce!” he said, considerably surprised. “Are you aware of the hour?”
“I think it might be as early as ten, my lord. I interrupted you breaking your fast. I apologize.”
He hesitated, his gaze sweeping the room. “You are without a chaperon.”
A shaky laugh slipped from her. “I am afraid I am, but it could not be helped. And at my advanced age of four and twenty, I believe I am allowed some leniency from propriety.”
His gaze raked over her, coolly appraising. “I can see that you’ve had a go of it. Please, tell me what has driven you to my doorstep at this hour.”
“My brother…Mr. Robert Pryce…before he left for America, he named you as a gentleman I could visit should I ever need help.”
“Yes, Robert and I are acquaintances,” he murmured, sitting on a wing back chair near the fireplace.
She noted the distinction in his words and that he did not claim friendship. Her brother was very wealthy. Many fine people of society clamored to be his ‘friend,’ even if they were tentative about inviting him to their elevated circles. A shiver of foreboding went through her, and she shrugged it away. Given her morning, it was easy to be suspicious about everything.
“Would you like me to take that?”
It was then Juliana realized she still held the umbrella, which was stolen from the carriage more to use as a weapon than protection from the rain, clutched in her grip.
The butler hadn’t even asked her for it. Perhaps she was just too unsettled from escaping the most nefarious plot to see her married off for her inheritance.
“No, that is fine, I’ll hold onto it for now.” Her chin rose. “I was dragged from my home a few hours ago with the express purpose of being forced into a marriage with Mr. Matthew Chevers.”
Surprise flared in the earl’s eyes. “Your brother?”
“My stepfather’s son,” she said. “I assure you, Mr. Chevers is not my brother.”
“Good God, and you say he tried to force you to marry him?”
“Yes, and he had the permission of Viscount Bramley.” The man who had married her mother three years ago, and her stepfather.
“His son, the despicable bounder, tried to enact his plans last night. I cannot return home, of course, surely they will only try again.”
Michael had recently bestowed a flattering amount of attention upon Juliana, and it had been puzzling, for he had barely tolerated her presence when they’d first met. And over the years, while he had been cordial, he hadn’t been overly friendly. A bitter flavor of distaste coated her tongue. Of course, his attentions had not been genuine, and thankfully she hadn’t been charmed, merely suspicious. Clearly, at her lack of gratefulness that he would consider marrying, “a lady firmly on the shelf,” as his father snidely put it. They had decided on a more diabolical plan.
If not for the way her dear papa had grown her, she would have been married to the bounder at this moment. “My mother is in Bath recovering from a malady, so I cannot burden her.”
Not that her mother had the power to influence the viscount’s decision, who oddly doted on his lady, despite his plot to try and control Juliana’s life and her inheritance. Her mother even seemed to love the man. Juliana did not see the purpose of burdening her ill mother with her husband’s deceit. Not when it would hurt her heart, and she was unable to separate her from him. Worse, Juliana feared her mother might even agree with the viscount. For she thought Juliana’s dream to be in charge of her own money to continue some of her father’s work nonsensical.
“Robert told me whatever I need you might assist me with.”
An unknown emotion flicked over the earl’s face. “And how do you need my help?”
Juliana wondered exactly what the earl was thinking, but suspected irritation at having to deal with her problems was involved. She did not believe the earl was especially receptive to her plight, for she felt no touch of fellow feeling in the man.
“I got a recent letter from Robert to say he is returning to London and he should be here before the end of December. It is tempting to book the fastest ship to New York, but that would still take six weeks to arrive, and Robert and I might miss each other. England has only been my home these past four years. I am pragmatic enough to know I cannot escape my stepfather’s plans with the few resources I own at present. So, I must position myself in a place where they cannot reach me until my brother returns home.”
“And this is where I come in,” he said, his gaze probing and even a bit discomfiting.
That had been her desperate reasoning when the kind farmer taking his goods to market had picked her up. “Yes. My father’s will stipulated that if I am not married by five and twenty, it means I know my own mind. So my inheritance is to be handed over to me—half on my twenty-fifth birthday and the final half on my thirtieth birthday. I gather my stepfather means to force me by any means necessary to marry his son before my birthdate in two months’ time, and I mean to escape their nefarious plotting by any means necessary. Obviously, as I will be able to access my fortune then, any financial expenses involved would be promptly repaid.”
The earl stared at her for a long time before saying, “I see your plight, Miss Pryce. Please stay here, I will be back shortly.”
To her dismay, he rose and quickly left the room. Juliana stood and started to pace. A young maid entered with a tea trolley and sandwiches. Her stomach rumbled alarmingly, and despite her unease and agitated nerves, she managed to drink a few cups of tea and ate several of the sandwiches. Her hunger satisfied, she stood and resumed her pacing by the windows. Once she sat still, the terror and fury of the last several hours swamped her senses, and her hands shook. The bounders! How dare they act in such a despicable fashion!
The door to the small drawing-room opened, and she jerked to her feet as the earl entered.
“Forgive my delay,” he said with a smile. “I had to send off an urgent missive. Please, sit, Miss Pryce. Have you had some tea?”
Releasing a pent-up breath, she slowly sat. “I’ve had two cups, my lord.”
“You still look frightfully pale,” he murmured sympathetically.
“I was recently trussed up in a carriage and bound for God knows where,” she said drily. “I dare say it might take a few days for me to recover my composure.”
Beneath his slashing ebony brows, the earl’s blue eyes narrowed at her in contemplation. “Isn’t the best thing to simply marry, Miss Pryce?”
Juliana’s heart jolted. “Why is that the best solution, my lord?”
“You need a man’s good sense to manage such wealth. There is a rumor it is five hundred thousand pounds, a large country home in Hertfordshire, and substantial shares in your brother’s shipping company.”
The intimate details of her inheritance were much discussed in the ton, but she hadn’t thought he would so baldly discuss money. Her limited experience with the marriage mart revealed Juliana’s dowry was her chief attraction for any suitor. It did not endear her heart to any gentleman. “I value my independence, and I daresay I am far more sensible when it comes to finances than most gentlemen of society who find themselves desperate to marry heiresses because they squandered their opportunities and trust that was invested in them.”
“I see
.” His smile did not reach his eyes. “Have you considered that Lord Bramley is simply protecting your best interest? Surely your stepfather isn’t a fortune hunter, and his son…Matthew…we know each other, and I tell you he is a good sport and you would make him an excellent wife.”
“He would not make me an excellent husband.”
“Come now, Miss Pryce,” the earl chided. “You cannot know—”
“I know,” she managed to retort, swallowing an unpleasant lump in her throat.
Juliana offered him a small smile that was exceedingly difficult to drum up, considering the anxiety beating inside her chest. “If I am to ever marry, it will be for one reason only. That I love the man I would spend the rest of my life with. Surely you agree, my lord, that it is not a flimsy undertaking to share your heart and life with another. I would only want such an attachment with a gentleman I held in esteem. Not one who would contrive to steal my choices and my inheritance that my father worked extremely hard to leave to his children. Now was my brother wrong to urge me to your doorsteps, my lord?”
“Of course not.” Yet he oozed insincerity.
Juliana felt a measure of panic. She’d dearly hoped Lord Prendergast would help her. If not, she would turn to the second name her brother had left with her, Lord Rawlings. Another earl, and possibly another gentleman who would think she should accept her fate because she was merely a woman.