Chivalrous Rake, Scandalous Lady. Mary Brendan
‘It seems to me you need someone to protect you.’
‘You’ll help me at a price, you mean?’ Jemma whispered.
‘It’s a price I believe you’ll be willing to pay. We suited once, you and I. In a basic way we suited very well indeed. Do you remember how I could make you want me?’
He closed the space between them in a single, prowling pace. She was tugged back against him and his mouth slanted hot and hard on hers, demanding, yet breathtakingly seductive.
‘You may name your terms. I’ll be attentive and generous in every way, I promise,’ he added with gentle, laughing coercion. ‘As my mistress you’ll have carte blanche. Anything your heart…or body…desires.’
Her lashes fluttered, her eyes focused, and she glimpsed what moments ago she’d been blinded to. He was watching her scientifically, to gauge whether she would let him ruin her.
‘I have an answer for you, sir,’ she choked, knocking again at his hand as it sought to bring her back to him. ‘It is no. A man as egotistical as you may find it hard to believe, but I find you quite resistible. And please be assured that being degraded by you is not, and never will be, a price that I am willing to pay.’
Chivalrous Rake,
Scandalous Lady
Mary Brendan
MARY BRENDAN was born in North London, but now lives in rural Suffolk. She has always had a fascination with bygone days, and enjoys the research involved in writing historical fiction. When not at her word processor, she can be found trying to bring order to a large overgrown garden, or browsing local fairs and junk shops for that elusive bargain.
Novels by the same author:
WEDDING NIGHT REVENGE*
THE UNKNOWN WIFE*
A SCANDALOUS MARRIAGE*
THE RAKE AND THE REBEL*
A PRACTICAL MISTRESS†
THE WANTON BRIDE†
THE VIRTUOUS COURTESAN**
THE RAKE’S DEFIANT MISTRESS**
Regency Rogues
Ripe for scandal. Ready for a bride.
A roguish gentleman can be devastatingly attractive to a genteel lady, especially when she’s already had a taste of loving him, and regrets losing him.
In CHIVALROUS RAKE, SCANDALOUS LADY the heroine is unwilling to succumb to a rejected suitor’s offer to be his mistress, despite being sorely tempted to do so. The vengeful rogue has a fiancée, and the heroine has a secret that should remain hidden if she is to salvage what remains of her reputation.
The second book in the duet, DANGEROUS LORD, SEDUCTIVE MISS, finds the heroine under threat from a gang of local ruffians. Then she is unexpectedly reunited with the hero many years after their youthful romance ended in a bitter parting. But is he a villain too, and does he present a greater danger…to her heart?
I hope you enjoy reading about how the couples overcome scandal and heartache to eventually find love and happiness.
Chapter One
Quality loved to tattle, Jemma Bailey knew that. She knew too that her parents’ disastrous marriage had provided ample reason for her and her sisters to suffer spite and speculation. But over time the tabbies had grown bored of worrying at an unresponsive prey. One of their victims had gone overseas; the other had escaped their clutches for good by shuffling off this mortal coil. The couple’s two elder daughters had married and now lived blameless lives in the shires with their husbands. Jemma was the youngest girl, and the one least affected by her parents’ mésalliance as she’d been but nine years old when her father was granted a divorce. She had remained single and had kept house for her father until he died, whereupon she’d been astonished to learn that her parsimonious papa had been far flusher than he’d let on. He’d left her a tidy amount of cash together with his brace of properties.
* * *
For the past two years Jemma Bailey had lived as a young spinster of independent means, spending a good proportion of the year in a neat town house on the out-skirts of Mayfair. When the tawny beauty of the countryside beckoned she would set off with her housemaid to her small estate in Essex. In London she socialised with people of moderate means, and she’d mellowed into accepting that her parents’, and her own, behaviour had cast her to the fringes of polite society.
* * *
As far as she was aware, years had passed since a Bailey had transgressed. Jemma therefore felt at a loss to comprehend what might recently have occurred to cause such lively conversation to cease the moment she’d entered Baldwin’s fabric emporium. Such grandes dames as those Jemma had caught whispering about her were usually too lofty to notice her quiet, modest existence. Eyes that were long-lashed and an unusual, deep shade of green flitted over the female assembly. Flustered gestures and colouring cheeks were everywhere as the ladies picked and stroked at lengths of cloth to cover their confusion at her sudden appearance. A slight figure at the back of the group stepped towards her with a blush and a constrained smile. It was Jemma’s cousin Maura Wyndham. The young women were of similar age, and in their prime had gone about together. Maura continued to enjoy inclusion in social circles that now were denied to Jemma, but they remained on friendly terms and visited one another quite often. Jemma sent a speaking look at her cousin. She was dismayed and not a little annoyed to think that one of her own kin had been involved in tattling about her behind her back.
‘Shall I go out and come in again?’ Jemma suggested in a dry undertone once Maura was within earshot.
Maura quickly linked arms with Jemma and turned her about so they were heading towards the bolts of cottons and away from the knot of mothers and daughters busying themselves amongst the silks and satins.
‘I’m sorry you came in and caught us,’ Maura began breathily, ‘but I’m not sorry I was in that group and heard what I did.’ She slanted Jemma an earnest look from wide eyes. ‘I was going to come straight to see you and warn you of a ridiculous rumour that will certainly be doing the rounds by this evening. We…’ she took a glance back over her shoulder towards the ladies’…we all agreed, even Lucy did, that it must be the work of a mischief-maker, though why anyone would bother doing any such daft thing—’
‘And will you ever tell me what that daft thing is?’ Jemma interrupted close to her cousin’s ear. She gave Maura a faint, encouraging smile. Her indignation was mounting, and she was impatient to know what had been said about her.
Maura cleared her throat, and her tongue-tip slid nervously over her lower lip. ‘Did you notice Lucy Duncan amongst the ladies?’ she asked.
‘I did,’ Jemma confirmed evenly.
‘She