Seduced by the Scoundrel Read online

  The clocks rang the half-hour. Luc stared blankly at the open newspaper in front of his face. Diamond Rose was casting off now. She would slip down the Thames on the falling tide leaving nothing behind to mark her presence, only the ache in his heart.

  The print blurred and he blinked, appalled to realise there were tears in his eyes. What the hell was the matter with him? It felt as though something—someone—had died.

  And then he realised. Something had. He loved her. He loved Averil and he had let her go, sent her out of his life. The image of the château came back, in colour now, and the children were there and the woman by his side and the laughter was Averil’s and the smiles on the faces of the children were hers, too. He had killed that future, those children, and it was too late. Too late.

  But he had to try. Luc threw down the paper, ran from the library and down the stairs into the hall of White’s club, thrust past the indignant members by the porter’s desk, out on to St James’s Street. ‘Cab!’

  Behind him he heard the porter. ‘Sir! Your hat, sir! Your coat!’ but the hackney stopped. ‘Get me to the nearest livery stables in five minutes and there’s gold for you.’

  It would be too late, but he had to try.

  Averil watched the banks as Tilbury came into sight. In a few minutes it would be too late, there would be no turning back. Perhaps it was already too late and this was madness, but quite suddenly, she knew what she must do. And with the resolve the blanket of misery that had seemed to stifle every breath lifted. ‘Ferret!’

  ‘Yes, miss?’ The little man materialised by her side.

  ‘I am going back with you.’

  ‘What—back on the pilot boat? To London? To the Cap’n?’

  ‘Yes. To the Cap’n.’ For as long as he wanted her, for whatever he wanted her as. She loved him, she was his. Papa, she thought. Forgive me, but he is my life now. I ruined your plans the moment I left Bradon. I cannot live without Luc.

  ‘Right, miss. Don’t know as we can get your stuff off again, though.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, just so long as we don’t forget Grace.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that, miss,’ Ferret said with an emphasis that cut through her preoccupation with Luc. Ferret and Grace?

  It took some argument and several guineas before the captain agreed to put another two passengers and their hand baggage off, but at last, as the ship lost way and the pilot boat came alongside, she was scrambling down the ladder with Ferret’s hands on her ankles guiding her safely. ‘If you’ll excuse the liberty, miss.’

  ‘Of course.’ And Grace seemed to be positively enjoying it when her turn came.

  The cutter cast off and headed for shore. ‘What’s that?’ the pilot said, scratching his head and pointing at an identical craft heading out towards them. ‘Late passenger, I reckon.’

  There was a man standing up in the bows, rock-steady, at home on a ship. A man she would know anywhere. ‘Luc,’ she whispered.

  Hands reached out to stop her as she fought her way forwards amongst sailors and coils of rope. Then she was standing on the prow as he was and as the boats lost way and came together he reached out and caught hold of her and swung her across to him.

  ‘Averil. You were coming back to me?’

  ‘Yes. To you.’ She stood there in the circle of his arm and everything vanished, the onlookers, the tossing boat, everything but him. ‘You were coming for me?’

  ‘I love you. Why did I not know before? I love you.’ He looked down at her, and for the first time she saw real uncertainty on his face. ‘Do you think you could …? You came back. I thought I would be too late. I rode harder than I ever have in my life and yet I thought I would be too late. But you are here for me …’

  ‘Because I love you, too. More than anything, more than everything. I love you, Luc.’

  ‘Thank God.’ He closed his eyes and pulled her tight against him and she could hear his heart thudding as though he had been running. ‘Let’s go home.’

  Luc was so silent beside her in the carriage on the long drive back from Tilbury that Averil wondered if he had changed his mind. But his arm as he held her against his chest was rock steady and his breathing was even, like that of a contented man. After a while she felt pressure on the top of her head and realised he was resting his cheek on her hair. She wanted to close her eyes and just luxuriate in being loved, but there too many things to worry about yet.

  ‘Should I go into the country for a while until Bradon gives up looking for me?’ she asked after twenty minutes.

  ‘He is going to know soon enough,’ Luc said.

  ‘But he will call you out!’ Averil wriggled free and twisted on the seat to look at him.

  ‘He’ll humiliate himself if he does—you were not known to be his betrothed, so if he fights me over you it will become common knowledge that he was jilted. If there was a chance he could get you back without a fuss, then that would be one thing—that was what I was afraid of, that he’d snatch you if he found you—but he won’t be able to do that now.’

  ‘But why not? We know he is ruthless and cold-blooded—’

  ‘A married woman is of no use to him,’ Luc said so calmly that for a moment she missed his meaning.

  ‘Married? You mean to marry me?’

  ‘Of course.’ His smile as he saw the realisation hit her was pure, unclouded joy. ‘There is no need to worry about banns—I can swear the allegation and get a licence from the vicar at St James’s church just opposite Albany. I can prove residence easily enough, even though I am hardly a regular churchgoer. You do not mind St James’s?’

  ‘Mind? But you cannot marry me, Luc. You want a Frenchwoman. And my grandfather was a grocer, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘So you came back to be my mistress?’ It was his turn to stare now. ‘You love me enough to do that?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, impatient that he did not understand. ‘For as long as you want me.’

  ‘I want you for ever.’ He shook his head, as frustrated as she by their mutual incomprehension. ‘I did not understand what it was to be in love. I made all those stupid conditions, set up barriers that mean nothing. Yes, you are English, but you can learn French, we can divide our time so the children can grow up in both countries. Our first son, of course, will inherit the title, so he must always feel more French than English, but I know you will support me in that.’

  ‘Children,’ she murmured, and nodded, too moved for words. Their children. She wanted to kiss him because the look in his eyes answered every doubt she could ever have that he loved her.

  ‘D’Aunays do not marry trade,’ Luc said bitterly. ‘I can just hear the words in my head. I was a fool, a prejudiced fool. Well, this d’Aunay will marry for love. All that matters is that I have found an intelligent, brave, beautiful woman whom I adore and who will stand by my side.’

  It was a dream come true, and like all dreams, nightmare lurked on the edges. ‘Bradon could sue you for alienation of my affections, the loss of my dowry.’

  ‘Then he can have your damn dowry,’ Luc said. ‘How much does your father love you? Will he settle for a French count with a promising career in the navy while the war lasts and a foothold in two countries when it ends? Will he pay off Bradon if I do not ask for any dowry with you and settle my own money on you? He still gets a son-in-law with some influence and standing, after all.’

  ‘You would do that?’

  ‘Of course. I would hand over every penny I own to keep you. Averil, you have turned my life upside down. I thought I knew what I wanted and now all I want is you. You will marry me?’ The sudden uncertainty in his voice caught at her heart. He was so strong, so confident and yet he was so unsure of her.

  She swallowed, trying to find the right words to reassure him, but he got to his knees on the floor of the rocking carriage, caught her hands in his and said, ‘Averil Heydon, I love you. Marry me and I swear you will never regret it. Marry me, because I do not think I can live without you.’

>   ‘I shall have to,’ she said as she lifted their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. ‘Because I cannot live without you either. Je t’aime.’

  ‘Now that,’ Luc said as he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, ‘that is all the French you will need for a long, long time.’

  The carriage rocked on its way towards Piccadilly and the old church, but Averil did not notice it, for Luc’s arms were strong around her and his mouth was tender on hers and the words he spoke, although she did not understand them with her head, she could translate with her heart, because they were all of love.

  *

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  First published in Great Britain 2011

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Melanie Hilton 2011

  ISBN: 978-1-408-92359-7

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Previous novels by the same author

  Author Note

  Dedication

  Title Page

  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

  Copyright