A Rogue for All Seasons (Weston Family)

BOOK: A Rogue for All Seasons (Weston Family)
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Contents

Title

Family Tree

Prologue

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

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Epilogue

Author's Note

Thanks

Promise Me Tonight
Excerpt

Tempting the Marquess
Excerpt

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Copyright

 

 

For Dad,
even though you repeatedly suggested the title,
No Pants Romance.
You’re my champion
and
my companion. I love you.

 

 

And also for the readers who asked for Henry’s story.
You helped me remember what happily ever after is really all about.

PROLOGUE

F
EBRUARY
1784
S
UFFOLK
, E
NGLAND

F
OR A GIRL OF ONLY
eight years old, Diana Merriwether was very good at hiding. She hid in empty cupboards, behind thick drapes, and under accommodating pieces of furniture. She’d tucked herself beneath the big desk in the library today. She enjoyed hiding, but she loved the excitement of someone finding her.

Her parents were very good at finding her. They called her name throughout the house, with Mama pulling the drapes aside, and Papa searching beneath the beds and opening cabinet doors. Diana’s nurse believed hunger would eventually drive any child out of hiding, so she saved her knees the trouble of looking. Nurse wouldn’t have been good at finding in any case; she was old and didn’t move much above a waddle. She also had Diana’s little brother, Alexander, to watch over.

There weren’t many good hiding places at Swallowsdale. Papa said the stables were too dangerous to play in, and Mama had forbidden her from going in the home woods alone since the time she got lost. If she were at Halswelle Hall, where her grandparents lived, she would never run out of places to hide. She had only visited once, but she remembered that The Hall was as big and grand as a palace. When Diana had said as much, her grandmother had explained that dukes and duchesses were only a step below royalty. Her grandparents had visited Swallowsdale when Alex was born, but now they just sent for Mama to come to them.

Her ears pricked as she perceived the faint rattle of coach wheels. Papa hadn’t said anything about a visitor today. Could Mama be home? She had gone to The Hall almost a fortnight ago because the duke had taken ill. He and the duchess often took ill, and they always sent for Mama—just in case. In case of what, Diana wasn’t sure, but she wished it didn’t happen so often. She liked it best when her family was together. Papa was always grumpy when Mama went away; he missed her worst of anyone.

As the heavy tread of her father’s footsteps sounded down the stairs, Diana considered leaving her hiding place beneath the desk. She didn’t want to run into the entry hall if the person in the coach had come to do business. Papa wouldn’t like that, since she was supposed to be reading quietly in the nursery. She caught her breath as the library door opened with its telltale squeak. Papa always promised to fix it, but the stud kept him very busy.

“Your messenger said only that I must come home at once.” Diana nearly darted out at hearing her mother, but the strain in her voice kept Diana still. “You promise the children are well?”

“Did I not tell you so at the door?” Papa did not seem at all happy to see Mama. A bad feeling took up root in Diana’s belly as the door squeaked closed.

“Oh, I have been so anxious,” exclaimed her mother. “I was so frightened Alex or Diana had taken ill, or that you were hurt, or—”

“Would you care if I were hurt?”

“How can you ask me that?” her mother demanded.

“You leave so often, I don’t know who you care for anymore.”

This wasn’t right. She wanted to tell her mother to leave the room, and then come back in and begin again. Her parents would find her hiding underneath the desk and they would all laugh. Papa would tell her that she was a clever puss, and then Mama would groan and say he shouldn’t encourage her, but she would smile when she said it.

“Is this the urgent reason you needed me home?” her mother asked angrily. “I know there’s no love lost between you and my parents. I don’t blame you, and I don’t begrudge you your dislike. You know why I go; we have the same argument every time I leave. Was it necessary to scare me out of my wits because you wanted to go over it again? For God’s sake, I would have returned in a couple more days.”

This was wrong, Diana thought, but if she told them, she would give away her hiding place. She had a feeling that whatever her parents were fighting about, it was serious. She curled herself into a tighter ball and rested her cheek on her knees, waiting for it to be over.

“No, that isn’t the reason I sent for you,” Papa said. “Before I say why, is there anything about your visit that you want to tell me? Is there anything you think I should know?”

“No, I don’t believe so. The Hall was very dull—”

“Is adultery dull to you? Damn you, Linnet, if you wish to make a cuckold of me, couldn’t you at least choose a smart man? He sent on a shift you left behind.”

Adultery.
Diana had heard that word before. It wasn’t a good word. It was one of the thou-shalt-nots that the vicar liked to go on about come Sunday morning. But Mama—

“How dare you?” The sharp slap of flesh on flesh split the air.

“Don’t do that again,” her father warned. “You don’t get to act the part of the outraged wife when I know you spent days at Peckford’s house. I wouldn’t ordinarily read your mail, but I wondered why Peckford sent a messenger with a parcel for you. Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped the paper and found your underclothes! I don’t know why I bothered to read the letter but, the more fool I, some part of me hoped there might be an explanation.” Diana heard the crinkle of paper. “He wrote how he enjoyed having you in his home, although he fears you did not get much sleep—”

“You
are
a fool. Mother and I went to dine at Folkham and, while we were there, the weather turned bad. Mother made such a fuss, Malcolm felt obliged to let us stay the night. It must have snowed as much here as it did there. We couldn’t leave for a couple of days, but it isn’t as if I were alone with the man. I spent my time nursing his aunt since the doctor could not get through from the village. My shift needed washing after she was sick on me in the night. One of the maids lent me a clean one. Obviously, I forgot to retrieve mine before we left. I can’t imagine why he would send it here rather than The Hall.”

“You could make a man forget his own name, let alone his common sense. It’s a tidy explanation, I must admit, but that hardly sounds like a dull visit. If it’s all as innocent as you say, why would you feel the need to hide it from me?”

“I didn’t tell you because I feared you would react like a jealous idiot. It seems I was correct. I am prepared to forgive you, after a proper amount of groveling, because if some woman sent home your smalls, I don’t know which of you I’d kill first.” She laughed, but Papa stayed silent. After a long moment, her mother whispered, “My God, you don’t believe me.”

“This isn’t this first time you and Peckford have slept under the same roof. I remember, when you went to The Hall in December, you wrote in one of your letters that Peckford had stayed the night. You gave yourself away.”

“Malcolm is my parents’ nearest neighbor; he dines at The Hall regularly. The poor man had too much to drink one night. He wasn’t fit to ride home, and The Hall can certainly accommodate another person.”

“Unlike here, you mean?” He gave a bitter laugh. “I know this isn’t good enough for you, that I’m not good enough for you. I tried as hard as a man can try, but I can’t live like this. I thought I could steal you away, as Hades did with Persephone, but I should have known I couldn’t keep you in my world.”

“You are talking nonsense. Have you been drinking Bar’s moonshine again? My world is wherever you are. I don’t enjoy dancing attendance on my parents, but for the children’s sake, I must keep them happy. You know I would rather be here with you. Your past has never mattered to me. I wouldn’t care if you were a fishmonger.
You
are the one who has always been concerned that you’re a bastard. That’s an accident of birth. You have no such excuse for acting like one right now.”

Her father said a bad word under his breath. “When were you planning to tell me about the babe? I know you’re with child, so don’t think to deny it.”

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