His Christmas Countess. Louise Allen

His Christmas Countess - Louise Allen


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       Lords of Disgrace

       Bachelors for life!

      Friends since school, brothers in arms, bachelors for life!

      At least that’s what The Four Disgraces—Alex Tempest, Grant Rivers, Cris de Feaux and Gabriel Stone—believe. But when they meet four feisty women who are more than a match for their wild ways these Lords are tempted to renounce bachelordom for good.

      Don’t miss this dazzling new quartet by

       Louise Allen

      Read Alex Tempest’s story in

      His Housekeeper’s Christmas Wish

      And Grant Rivers’s story in

      His Christmas Countess

      Look out for Cris and Gabriel’s stories, coming soon!

       Author Note

      I have been exploring the world of four quite disgraceful lords who are each going to meet their match in the very unexpected love of their life.

      This time it is the turn of Grant Rivers, a man with dark secrets he keeps close to his heart. He is a man in a hurry, for very pressing reasons, but even he can’t abandon someone in even more of a hurry than he is—a young woman giving birth in a ruined bothy on the wild Scottish Borders on Christmas Eve. Grant finds himself with more than he bargained for as a result of helping Kate Harding, and I hope you enjoy finding out as much as I did what happens when two people with secrets find themselves forced to learn to trust and rely on each other.

      You can meet Grant before his encounter with Kate in His Housekeeper’s Christmas Wish, the story of the first Lord of Disgrace, Alex Tempest. The next two—Cris de Feaux and Gabriel Stone—are yet to come.

      His Christmas Countess

      Louise Allen

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      LOUISE ALLEN loves immersing herself in history. She finds landscapes and places evoke the past powerfully. Venice, Burgundy and the Greek islands are favourite destinations. Louise lives on the Norfolk coast and spends her spare time gardening, researching family history or travelling in search of inspiration. Visit her at louiseallenregency.co.uk, @louiseregency and janeaustenslondon.com.

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      Contents

       Cover

      Lords of Disgrace

      Author Note

       Title Page

       About the Author

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

       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

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      December 24, 1819—the Scottish Borders

      Becoming pregnant had been so easy, so catastrophically simple. An unaccustomed glass of champagne, a little unfamiliar flattery, a night made for romance, a careless, innocent tumble from virtue to ruin.

      Somehow that ease increased the shock of discovering just how hard giving birth to the baby was. It is because I’m alone, I’m cold, I’m frightened, Kate told herself. In a moment, when these pains stop, I will feel stronger, I’ll get up and light the fire. If I can get there, if there is any dry kindling, if I can strike a spark.

      ‘Stop it.’ She spoke aloud, her voice echoing in the chill space of the half-ruined bothy. ‘I will do it because I have to, because I must, for the baby.’ It was her fault her child would be born in a tumbledown cottage on a winter’s day, her miscalculation in leaving it so late to run away, her lack of attention that had allowed the pickpocket to slip her purse from her reticule in the inn yard, leaving her penniless. She should have gone to the workhouse rather than think she could walk on, hoping for some miracle and safe shelter at the end of the rough, muddy road.

      Her mind seemed to have turned to mush these past few days. Only one message had been clear: get away before Henry can take my baby from me. And she would do anything, anything at all, for this child, to keep him or her safe from her brother’s clutches. Now was the time to move, while there was still some light left in the lowering sky. She tried to stand up from the heap of musty straw, but found she could not. ‘Pull yourself together, Catherine Harding. Women give birth every day and in far worse conditions than this.’ Beyond caring that she was reduced to a lumbering, clumsy creature, she managed to get on to her hands and knees and began to crawl towards


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