by Gill, Tamara
Contents
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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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Author Note
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About the Author
Copyright
Hellion at Heart
League of Unweddable Gentlemen, Book 2
Copyright © 2020 by Tamara Gill
Cover Art by Wicked Smart Designs
Editor Grace Bradley Editing
All rights reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a database and retrieval system or transmitted in any form or any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the owner of copyright and the above publishers.
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Chapter 1
Surrey 1813
* * *
Hallie sat at the breakfast table with her papa, reading over the latest articles that had come out of Egypt and the wonderful finds of the ancient land that had been buried for thousands of years.
She sighed, looking out the window at the dreary, wet morning, dreaming of the heat, the sand and culture. Where spices floated in the air and invigorated the soul. Not like her life here in Surrey, where she did little except tend the garden and read in the library.
Her father cleared his throat, gaining her attention. “Hallie dear, there is something that I need to discuss with you. It is of great importance, so please let me finish before you say anything.”
Hallie set down her paper, and turned to her papa. “Of course.”
Her father, a gentleman, but one with limited land and fortune smiled a little and she frowned, wondering why he appeared so nervous. A light sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, and, picking up his napkin, he dabbed it away.
“My darling girl, this is not easy for me to tell you, and please know that I do this only because I have your best interest at heart.”
She sat back in her chair, a hard knot forming in her stomach. “Of course,” she managed, although she feared this conversation would be unlike any they had had before. Something was wrong, but what that was she partially didn’t wish to know.
“I’m sending you away to a school in France. The Madame Dufour’s Refining School for Girls is highly recommended and with your love of history, I think this will be good for you. You’re never going to achieve your dreams by only reading the books in my library. All of which are sadly lacking and will be even more so in the months to come.”
“You’re sending me away? Why, Papa? I do not understand.”
He sighed, reaching across the table to take her hand. His touch was warm and yet the idea of leaving Surrey, her papa, left her cold.
“I may have been born a gentleman, the fourth son of a baron, but simply being related to the aristocracy, no matter how distant, does not earn you funds. I have kept the house for as long as I could, but it was of no use and only yesterday I’m happy to say that I have sold it.”
Hallie gasped, pulling her hand away. “You sold our home?”
Her father ignored her accusatory tone and nodded. “I did, and with the funds I have purchased myself a small cottage in Felday. It’s a two-bedroom cottage that looks out onto the town square and it’ll do us nicely I think. All our possessions that we can fit will come with us, the books also, and so I think we can make the cottage our own and be very comfortable there.”
She shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. “Papa, our life is here. I was born in this very room. My last memories of Mama are here. Please, reconsider.”
Her father pushed back his chair, scraping the feet against the floor. Hallie grimaced as he went to stand at the window, overlooking the hollyhocks and roses outside.
“Do you not think I know this, my dear? Do you not know that it broke my heart to sell our home, but it was either that, walk away with some funds, or walk away with nothing? I chose the former. The sale was profitable, and I have enough to keep me for the rest of my days, and to give you a small dowry along with your schooling in France.”
He turned and strode over to her, pulling Hallie to stand. “You must promise me to use your time at school to better yourself. Arm yourself with so much knowledge that nothing and no one can stand in your way. That you will run with your smarts that I know you have and make a life from it. See the world, visit your beloved Egypt you’re always reading about,” he said, looking down at her article, “and live a full and happy life. Just as I and your mama always hoped for. You are always welcome at the cottage when you’re home.”
Hallie swallowed the lump in her throat, having never heard her father speak in such a way before. “I promise, Papa. I shall make you proud and before I go, together we’ll ensure the cottage is just how we like it. Make it our new home away from this one.”
Her papa pulled her into a fierce embrace and Hallie wrapped her arms about him, noticing for the first time how fragile and so much older he was than she realized. She squeezed him harder, wishing life to just halt a moment, to pause and stay as it was.
“I’m glad you said that, my dear. For I have old Farmer McKinnon coming tomorrow with his cart to help us shift. It’ll be a busy two days.”
Her father walked to the door, heading toward the foyer. Hallie followed him. “Two days. Why two days?” she asked.
He turned, smiling. “Because we have to be out of the house in two days. I suggest you finish breakfast and start packing.”
Hallie stared after him, shutting her mouth with a snap. The house was not small, and the idea of packing, picking what they would keep and leave behind left her momentarily stunned. However would they do it with one house maid, a cook and one groomsman who also acted as their butler?
Shaking her head, but never one to shy away from hard work, Hallie called out to Maisie, her maid, for assistance. If they only had two days, then it would only take her
two days to complete the relocation of their belongings. She rolled up her sleeves, heading toward the stairs. “I think I’ll start with the guest bedroom first and work my way through,” she said aloud to herself. Determined to hit her father’s deadline and roll with the stones life throws at one’s self, dodging accordingly.
Chapter 2
1817 New Years Day – Felday
* * *
It was the worst way in which to start the New Year. Hallie stood beside her carriage at the church yard gate, hating the fact that she was now an orphan. Even if she was three and twenty, her age did not change the fact that other than her school friends, she was alone in the world.
Snow fell about her, damp and miserable, and she looked up at the sky, wishing to be anywhere but here. Someplace hot so that her bones would no longer ache and her nose wouldn’t feel like it was going to fall off.
The coachman helped her into the vehicle and she called for home. The small cottage that she would now close up and leave behind. Her father had always wanted her to live her life, use her education to explore, learn and enjoy the world that waited for her.
Now she would fulfil his wish and live. Not survive in this cold, wet England.
The journey into Felday was of short duration, and Hallie stared out the window, thinking of her papa in his final days. By the time he’d passed, he’d been but a shell of his old self. A tumor in her father’s kidney the doctor believed, the telltale yellowing skin and eyes of her father a sign that something was not right within his body.
Her only consolation through the ordeal was that he’d been happy. Her father accepted help when help was required, read and talked as they always had during the last few weeks. At times Hallie could even imagine he wasn’t riddled with a disease, but those times were fleeting.
The carriage came to a quick halt and she slid off the seat, landing with an oomph on the floor. Scrambling to get up, Hallie heard a commotion outside and opened the door, wanting to see what the trouble was about herself.
She jumped out, the snow under foot crunching with each step. Hallie came about the front of the equipage to see a man, or better yet, a gentleman standing and talking to her driver. He was tall, his clothing much better made than her own, his greatcoat was cut to suit his muscular frame, and his legs were long and well-defined from hours on the back of a horse. Clean-shaven, his jaw was cutting, his lips full. A breath expelled at the sight of him. Heavens, Felday didn’t sport men such as he. Hallie pulled her cloak about her, lest he see her own unfashionable clothes that had seen better years—her mourning gown that had been handed down from her mother.
“Oh, miss. I must impose on you to use your vehicle if you would not mind. Share it with you I should add. My friends, you see, have played a trick on me and have stolen my horse and I’m stuck out in the middle of nowhere not knowing which way to go.”
Hallie stared at the Adonis as her mind scrambled to form a reply. He wore a fur cap and a large woollen scarf about his neck, but still she spied the hint of blond hair beneath. His eyes were wide and clear, a lovely dark shade of blue, his straight nose hinted at his breeding, not to mention his lips… They were full, fuller than perhaps her own, and for a moment Hallie thought she was looking at an angel sent to make her feel better on this sad day.
“Miss?” he queried again. “Do you think you could take me to the nearest town?” He hugged himself and she became aware of the chilling wind.
“Miss Evans, we dinna know who this man is. He could be a cutthroat, a highwayman.” Her coachman pointed back toward Felday. “Walk in that direction and in an hour or so you’ll make Felday.”
“It’ll be dark in half an hour,” the gentleman said, turning back to Hallie. “Please, Miss Evans, if that is your name. Please may I hitch a ride?”
Hallie sighed. “What is your name, sir?”
He lifted his chin, bowing a little. “Arthur Howard at your service.”
She lifted her brow, shaking her head a little. “Well, not really, it is I who’s at your service, is it not?”
The Mr. Howard grinned and Hallie’s stomach did a little absurd flip at the gesture. She adjusted her shawl, walking back to open the carriage door. “Back to Felday, John, and we’ll drop Mr. Howard at the inn. I’m sure he can hire a horse from there on the morrow.”
Hallie settled back on the squabs and pulled the carriage blanket to rest over her legs. Mr. Howard jumped in after her, shutting the door on the chill afternoon.
“Thank you again, Miss Evans for picking me up. I did have a horse, you understand, but I also have friends who think it quite a lark that they would leave with my said stead.”
She studied him a moment, his articulation quite proper and correct. “Are you staying nearby?”
“I was staying at the Felday Manor and was returning to London with a group of friends when I stopped… Ah, I stopped for a moment and went into the woods and it was when I returned to the road that I found my horse and my friends gone.”
Hallie shook her head at such absurdness. The man was not dressed to be left outdoors overnight and with the snow coming down quite heavily, he would’ve been dead by morning had he not reached Felday by foot.
“You are mistaken, Mr. Howard, for no friends would do such a thing, certainly not at this time of year.”
He nodded, seemingly taking her point, before he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to keep warm. “What brings you out on such a cold day, Miss Evans?” He smiled after his question and she pitied him her answer. Soon he would look at her with sorrow and sympathy like everyone else did in Felday village.
“I buried my father today, I’m returning home from the church.”
His mouth popped open and she tore her gaze away from him to look outside. Soon, very soon she would be away from all this cold, this sadness and her life would start.
“Miss Evans, I’m so terribly sorry. Had I known I would never have intruded. You must forgive me. I am beyond regretful that my friends chose such an inappropriate time to play me a fool.”
The carriage passed some outlying cottages of the county and Hallie turned back to the man who had turned as white as a ghost. “My father’s passing was expected, Mr. Howard and he’s out of misery now. Back in the hand of God and I’m happy for that. You need not apologize. On a night such as this, it would’ve been unchristian of me to have left you on the road.”
He reached across and clasped her hand. “Even so, as a man who has also lost both his parents, I understand how hard today must’ve been for you. I’m wretched that I intruded at such a time.”
She shook her head, swiping at a tear that warmed her cheek. “Thank you. That is most kind, but do not trouble yourself. I live in Felday and was returning here in any case.”
The carriage rocked to a halt, and Hallie looked out the window. The inn had two horses standing out the front and oddly three carriages were being unloaded. It wasn’t usual to see so many people at the inn and Hallie frowned. “Mr. Howard, this is the inn in Felday, you had best go indoors and see if there is a room available. I wish you well,” she said, holding out her hand to him. He picked it up and instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips and kissed it gently.
A shiver stole over her skin and she smiled a little to hide her reaction to his touch.
“Do you have far to go this evening, Miss Evans?”
She pointed out the window across the town green to a little thatched-roof residence. “I live just over there, Mr. Howard. I think I shall find my way home well enough.”
He nodded, reaching for the door. “Thank you again and may I wish you very well.”
Hallie caught his eyes, drinking in his beauty as he closed the door behind him. When he went out of sight, Hallie sighed her relief. To remain calm in the face of such a handsome man was worthy of a prize. Her father would’ve thought it such a lark that a handsome stranger would arrive on the day she’d said her goodbyes to him. Even though in truth she’d said her good
byes to her papa weeks ago.
And soon, very soon she’d say her goodbyes to England as well. And say hello to the Middle East and all that awaited her there. A life, as her father termed it.
A new start.
Egypt.
Lord Arthur Howard, Viscount Duncannon would murder his friends when he arrived back in London. Not for only taking off with his prized gelding that had cost him more than five hundred pounds, but because their stupidity had forced him into the company of a woman who had just buried her father.
Of all the despicable things for him to do, Arthur did not think he would ever better such an inconsiderate, lowly action if he tried.
He turned and watched the carriage as it pulled out on the small gravel road around the village green until it pulled up before the thatched-roof cottage across the way. The door of the home opened and closed and the carriage moved off. Arthur pushed open the door to the inn, satisfied that Miss Evans had returned home unharmed.
He walked into the front taproom and found a scene of utter chaos. The room was full to the brim with people, and the bartender and his wife looked to be running around as if they weren’t sure what to do.
Arthur went up to the bar, calling out to the bartender who stood pouring two beers. “Sir, can I press you for a room? I need one for just one night if you will oblige me and show me where I may go.”