by Jaimey Grant
Redemption
A Regency Romance
by
Jaimey Grant
Redemption
A Regency Romance
by Jaimey Grant
©2008, 2013 Laura J Miller
Honor excerpt ©2011 Laura J Miller
All Rights Reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the authors, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
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The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
Cover design by Laura J Miller
www.anauthorsart.com
Published by TreasureLine Publishing
www.treasurelinebooks.com
First published September 2008
Third Edition
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, to factual events or to businesses is coincidental and unintentional.
Also by Jaimey Grant
Connected Regencies:
Honor
Betrayal
Deception
Entangled (Spellbound)
Heartless
Redemption
Short Stories:
My Lady Coward: An Episodic Regency Romance
The 11th Commandment: A Serial Romance
Assassin’s Keeper / Survival in Unlocked: Ten “Key” Tales
The Dragon’s Birth (fantasy)
Table of Contents
Copyright
Book List
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
Honor Excerpt
About the Author
Chapter One
England 1821
Darius Prestwich stepped off the boat, one of the many owned by his cousin, Sir Adam Prestwich. He swung his pack over his shoulder and looked around at all the people milling about the city of Portsmouth. People coming and going, crewmen shouting, an overall sense of order amidst the chaos.
As passengers scurried about, Dare’s eyes scanned the crowd. One person in particular snared his gaze and he stared, hardly daring to believe his own eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was Adam. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was indeed his cousin accompanied by a heavily veiled woman of diminutive stature and a large young man who stood out due to his very size.
He thought of approaching them but he was held back by one of the captains employed by his cousin. “I say, Mr. Dare, are you off to see Sir Adam?”
Dare turned to the burly man and replied, “Yes, Captain Blake, as a matter of fact I am. He stands just over yonder.” Dare tipped his head toward the little group. “Was there something you’d like me to make known to him?”
“Let him know the Bonny Mae went down. I just received word this minute.”
Dare stood very still. It was the third ship they’d lost in twice as many months. Adam’s shipping business couldn’t stand much more loss. “Are you sure?”
“Sure as I’m standin’ here, Mr. Dare.”
“Any survivors?”
The captain shook his head sadly. “Nay, lad, none. The ship disappeared, too, just like the others.”
Dare shook his head. It was a mystery he thought might never be solved. “Who imparted the message to you, Captain Blake?”
“It was young Jimmy Smith. His papa sails for that there Lord Penryn.”
Dare gazed at the ruddy captain thoughtfully. He had heard of Lord Penryn before. The man was an enigma and never strayed far from his home in Cornwall. He also happened to be Adam’s biggest shipping rival.
“Very well. I’ll let my cousin know.” He turned to walk away but the captain stopped him again.
“When is he goin’ to make you a cap’n, young man?” Captain Blake asked kindly.
“That, my dear captain, is very much up to Sir Adam,” replied Dare. He saluted the captain in a mocking gesture and walked away.
He was not altogether surprised when he observed Adam heading in his direction, his companions following close behind. He stopped and waited for them.
Holding out his hand in greeting, he said, “Adam, well met. I need to speak with you.”
Adam smiled in greeting, shaking his hand. His oddly colored gray-green eyes glinted with a warning that Dare couldn’t begin to understand.
Then he glanced at the woman—a lady to judge by her garb—and the young man and wondered if his cousin was aiding an elopement. He returned his gaze to Adam, one black brow lifted in faintly mocking inquiry.
Adam ushered him to one side, neglecting to introduce him to the couple. “Dare, I need a favor.”
Dare held up a hand. “First, let me impart my information. Captain Blake informed me that the Bonny Mae went down.”
Adam’s brow furrowed. “How many is that now?”
“Three in six months.”
“Damn. Is there any clue as to what is happening to them?”
“Every man has been lost and the ships seem to disappear from the face of the earth. It appears to be true of the Bonny Mae as well. I will look into the matter at great length when I get the chance of it.”
“Good man.” Adam looked back at his companions uneasily. “I have another favor to ask of you.”
Dare listened with growing disbelief as Adam explained the situation in which he found himself. As soon as Adam finished, he said, “You must be jesting! You want me to squire a passel of females around during the Season? Have you lost your mind? What do I know of Society? I haven’t attended the Season in…well, ever. I can’t possibly—”
“Miles has, dammit, and he will be there too. Please just do as I ask and leave me to get this latest problem out of my hair.”
Dare reluctantly agreed and watched his cousin walk away. He swore under his breath and headed into the town.
Miles watched Lady Brianna Prestwich pace much in the same way her cousin, the Earl of Greville, was wont to do. Lady Bri only did so when she was particularly disturbed, however. Lord Greville had a tendency to do it all the time.
“My lady, I wish you would stop and tell me what I am to do. I cannot read your mind and although I have been here for all of fifteen minutes, you have yet to tell me why. I do not want to sound rude but I have several things to accomplish for Adam.”
Bri stopped pacing, giving her husband’s cousin a look of disgust. She had ever had little patience for strictly organized people and Miles Prestwich was one of the
worst.
“You can oblige me for a minute or two, Miles. I’m sure whatever it is Adam has set for you can wait.”
She started moving again and Miles feared he might develop a headache to match the crick that was swiftly developing in his neck.
She threw him an annoyed glare. “And I told you to call me Bri. Do I have to make Adam order you to make use of the god…blasted name?”
Miles allowed a tiny smile to play about his lips. He was positive Lady Prestwich cleaned up her language out of deference to him. She did make life very interesting, to be sure.
“Here is my problem, Miles,” Bri said finally, stopping again to stare at him steadily. “Adam has gone out of town to take care of some things and it is left up to Rory and I to scotch a few rumors that seem to have crept up on us when we weren’t looking. We need you to squire us to balls and parties so we can gossip.”
“What of Lord Greville?”
“He went with Adam.” Bri favored him with a look that implied he should have known that.
Perhaps he should have. “Very well,” responded Miles. He really did not want to but perhaps he would see a certain lady again by traveling in the same circles as her.
“Thank you, Miles,” Lady Prestwich said with an unusually hefty dose of sickeningly sweet charm. “You may go now.”
Miles bowed and departed. He closed the drawing room doors behind him and returned to the study at the back of the mansion.
He sat down at the large mahogany desk and started sorting through the papers lying there. After several minutes of pointless shuffling, he realized what he was doing and stopped. He had no time to daydream about a pair of heavenly blue eyes, a pert nose, and soft blond curls.
Dare was admitted into Lockwood House in Berkeley Square without much fuss and ushered into the drawing room. The butler, West, announced him and he was faced with his cousin’s wife for the first time. He thought she was beautiful, of course, with her deep red hair and emerald green eyes, but there was something in her expression, in her bearing, perhaps even the look in her eyes that made him very thankful she was Adam’s wife and not his own.
“Lady Prestwich, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said with an elegant bow.
She said nothing for a moment, her eyes sweeping his form in quite the rudest manner he’d ever experienced. Not a hint of embarrassment marred her beautiful features when she once again settled her gaze on his face. She stared for several moments, her eyes narrowing. Then, “It’s your eyes.”
“Excuse me?” he inquired, wondering if perhaps he’d missed something vitally important.
“Your eyes. Miles’s are not as dark a blue as yours. Lovely. I shall have no trouble telling you apart even if you cut your hair and style it just like his.” She gestured to a chair. “Please sit. We should get acquainted.”
Dare glanced ruefully at his travel-stained clothing. “Perhaps after I’ve had time to refresh myself, my lady.”
“Now don’t you go starting that, too. I have just this moment told your brother to stop calling me that and I will tell you the same thing. I have a name. It is Brianna. I would appreciate it if you would call me Bri. Lady Prestwich, Lady Rothsmere, and my lady are just so stuffy, do you not think?”
“Indeed, Bri,” he replied with a charming smile. “I will endeavor to remember. In the meantime, you must call me Dare. I will answer to nothing else.”
Bri smiled, her striking beauty almost blinding. “Wonderful. I can tell we will get along famously.” With that, she dismissed him to clean up.
Dare was led to a handsome apartment on the third floor, one of many suites reserved for family use. He appreciated the rather masculine furnishings and was pleased to note the water closet that was just off one end of the dressing room. It had been quite some time since he’d visited Lockwood House and he was impressed with Adam’s improvements.
He made use of the wash room and changed into fresh clothes, pulling on worn but comfortable doeskin breeches, a loose linen shirt, and a jacket of navy blue. He left his shirt open at the neck and tied a simple belcher neckerchief around his tanned throat.
As he left his rooms, he hoped Bri would not mind his casual attire. He was not about to dress in the restricting clothing demanded by Society until he absolutely had to—and even then he would balk at every restraining article.
He knew he would have to find a valet soon, as well, and he really didn’t care one. He had become used to having his privacy and it was something he now closely guarded.
Instead of returning to the drawing room on the first floor, Dare decided to do a little exploring. He eased his way past the open doors of the room containing Bri and hurried down the rest of the stairs. He supposed Miles was about somewhere and if he knew his twin at all, he was willing to bet he was in the study poring over paperwork.
Dare shuddered. He hated paperwork. In fact, he could barely read and that suited him just fine. He had no use for books or newspapers and less use for writing.
Miles, on the other hand, had a flair for making sense of chaotic offices, studies, and libraries and simply thrived on literature. He usually had his nose in some book or other or his hands in papers that made no sense to anyone sane. Another shudder snaked through Dare’s body at the mere thought of organizing anything.
Making another turn, Dare faced a closed door. He was willing to bet he faced the study, as it was furthest from the noise of the street and house traffic. He pushed it open and walked in.
Miles looked up with a guilty flush, thinking it was Bri who had caught him daydreaming. He frowned when he saw his wandering twin.
Dare grinned, his face appearing even more handsome than normal. “Please, Miles, your excitement over seeing me again after all these years is unbecoming in a man. Restrain yourself.” He crossed his arms over his chest and advanced into the room, gazing about in interest.
Miles frowned even more heavily at his brother’s levity but remained silent for the moment. Then he noticed Dare’s choice of garb. “What the devil are you wearing?”
Dare looked down with an expression of feigned wonder on his face. “Oh, dear Father in heaven! I’m wearing clothes! I left my room naked. Where did these come from?” He pulled at his shirt, making it billow out away from his muscular chest. His look of bafflement was something to behold.
Miles almost smiled at Dare’s playacting, reminded of many childhood escapades. Instead, he gave him a stern look. “You are dressed far too casual for London and our cousin’s home, Dare. What if someone calls on Bri and sees you dressed like that? You could ruin all of our social cache in just one sitting.”
“What if, shwat if,” remarked Dare carelessly. “I will wear what I want until I am forced to go about in Society. And if the ladies who visit will be frightened by my dress I will simply hide until they go away.”
“Will you cut your hair?”
That wiped the grin off Dare’s face. “Why should I?”
“You look like a pirate, Dare. All you lack is the eyepatch.”
A gleam of interest lit Dare’s expressive face. “Indeed. I’ll look into that.”
Miles released an exasperated breath. “As you will,” he muttered, wondering why he even tried to change his brother. It was a thankless task and never successful.
“I’ve often wondered the same, brother,” Dare uttered softly. “Trying to change someone who is equally determined not to is ever frustrating.”
Miles shook his head, a trifle aghast at his twin’s unnerving perspicacity.
Several minutes passed with Miles once again poring over his paperwork and his twin prowling around, poking his fingers into everything like a curious child. Miles felt like a father sometimes when he was with Dare and it was not a feeling he enjoyed considering he was the younger of the two—by twelve minutes.
“If you are going to hang about, Dare, do something productive, please.”
Dare stopped prowling and stared at Miles. “What do you suggest?” He moved
across the room and stood looking over his twin’s shoulder. “Do you have party invitations that need addressed?” he asked impudently, knowing this was not an activity that fell under Miles’s jurisdiction. “I assure you, should I do so, all the invitations would go astray resulting in some unsavory characters arriving for the ball…or rout…or breakfast…or whatever.”
He paused, one finger on his chin in a pose of thinking that Miles knew was feigned. “Why do they call it a breakfast? They never start until three in the afternoon and go until all hours.” The look he bestowed on his brother positively begged for an answer.
Miles managed to contain his annoyance. He had a difficult time dealing with Dare’s lackadaisical way of life. The man was eight-and-twenty years old. It was time for him to grow up and stop acting like life was a game.
Dare knew how his attitude annoyed Miles and secretly reveled in it. Their relationship was a constant struggle between comedy and drama, Dare preferring to laugh at the bumps in the road of life and Miles preferring to analyze and configure everything life tossed in his path. The very thought of taking life seriously wearied Dare to the point he was afraid he might have to retire to his room for a two-week nap.
The slightly elder of the two identical gentlemen resumed his place behind his brother’s shoulder, shamelessly perusing the paper currently on the top of the stack. He was intrigued to note that a lady’s name seemed to be scrawled across the page with many flourishes. Did his brother have a tendre for someone?
“Dare, do you mind?” snapped Miles. He jerked the paper out of the other man’s line of sight. He was more annoyed with himself than his brother but the way Dare was hovering made him edgy.
Dare’s ready grin flashed again. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Get out!”
Laughing, Dare left Miles to his papers. He crossed the hall and went back upstairs. As he moved past the drawing room, Lady Prestwich stepped out. He stopped.
“I wondered if perhaps you were lost,” remarked Bri with a smile. “Then I heard Miles yell and I assumed it was a little brotherly squabble.”
