Every Rogue's Heart Read online

  Every Rogue’s Heart

  Allison Merritt

  Sandra Sookoo

  Amanda Mariel

  Rebecca Lovell

  Tammy Andresen

  Dawn Brower

  Contents

  Allison Merritt

  Love in Plain Sight

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Other books by Allison Merritt

  Sandra Sookoo

  The Lady’s Chocolatier

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  USA Today Bestselling Author Amanda Mariel

  Delighted by the Duke

  Also by Amanda Mariel

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Excerpt: Enchanted by the Earl

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Afterword

  Rebecca Lovell

  Only a Rogue Knows

  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

  USA Today Bestselling Author Tammy Andresen

  My Enemy My Earl

  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

  About the Author

  Dawn Brower

  Scheming with My Duke

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Excerpt: Secluded with My Hellion

  Prologue

  About the Author

  Books by Dawn Brower

  Love in Plain Sight

  Allison Merritt

  Chapter 1

  “Happy birthday, Jayne.”

  A small, flattened scone made a sad present and a sadder cake. The scone, like Jayne, sat cold and alone, and also like her, probably expected to be devoured. She folded the paper wrapper around it. Fortunately for the bun, her appetite wasn’t much.

  Her nervous stomach was entirely accounted for due to her new position at Camprich Manor. Any moment now someone would come from the house in the countryside to fetch her and take her there. She’d accepted a position as a governess for the daughter of the Baron of Camprich. Today she would meet her new charge and the other staff at the manor.

  She’d gotten the job largely thanks to her former employer’s well-written recommendation, but leaving that employ hurt as badly as any bruise. Too bad the Eastons no longer required her services. She’d been with them for ten years as a companion to their only daughter, Lizette, right up until Lizette married to her beau. With Lizette no longer in need of a companion, Jayne was left as she had been when she first came to the Eastons—alone.

  She drew in a breath. Everything would be fine. She didn’t have much experience with children, but she was dedicated to her task. She couldn’t afford to lose this position.

  The morning air was crisp, but spring flowers bloomed around Upper Enggate. The train station was a little apart from the village and the hill on which it sat offered a view of houses and shops. No one could have picked a lovelier spot for a village or a train station. A well-tended climbing rose bush grew up a trellis outside the train station that was little more than a cottage. The lawn had a just mowed freshness about it and some dew still sparkled on the green blades. Birds twittered in the trees, adding a song to the morning. After her long train ride, at least she had relaxing surroundings while waiting on someone to pick her up. Much of her ride on the train had consisted of rain and clouds. The clouds had broken up very early this morning.

  A handful of others had disembarked on the train with her, but they had paid her little notice and had gone on to their destinations. Leaving her to sit and wait. The day was just nice enough that she didn’t mind.

  The jingle of harness came from over the crest. A moment later, a tall bay horse pulling a dogcart appeared on the puddle-splashed road.

  The gentleman driving sat straight on the seat. His gaze fell on her, but his expression was unreadable. He wore simple clothes—a light brown frock coat over a blue shirt. Tan cotton trousers tucked into tall black boots. A strange hat sat on top his head. One unlike any she’d seen outside of magazines.

  A…cowboy hat?

  The horse stopped in front of the train station.

  The driver exited the conveyance with grace. He pushed up the brim of the hat. Sunlight hit his tanned face and highlighted the olive shade of his irises. His gaze didn’t flicker or go elsewhere. He stared at her with purpose. He walked straight up to her with confidence in his swagger and a smile on his face. “Miss Strange?”

  Jayne’s heart pounded. Her mouth seemed dry. Few men ever held her gaze so long, preferring to turn their eyes on prettier women. He seemed to peer straight into her soul. She so rarely drew genuine interest from a man. “I, um…”

  “You’re not Miss Strange?”

  His American accent, so different from the ones she knew was startling. “I am Strange.”

  His mouth tipped up in a smile before his gaze settled on her again.

  Her face burned. “That is to say, I am Miss Strange. Forgive me. It’s been a long trip.”

  He jerked his thumb at the three trunks and valise beside the bench. “Is this your luggage?”

  “That’s everything, yes. It seems a bit much for your dogcart.” It’s everything I own in the world. “We won’t have to leave anything behind? Any miscreant could load up my things and make off with them.”

  “I’m sure old Duff can handle the load.” He gave the horse a fond glance. “I know you women are particular about your belongings.”

  “Indeed, sir. I don’t mean to be a challenge so early in our relationship, but I wouldn’t like to lose any of my things.”

  “Relationship.” His mouth pinched. “Forgive me, Miss. I failed to introduce myself. It’s unusual for me to be so rude.”

  She held back laughter. Men were often rude—though usually not with intent—in her presence. Being plain-featured meant she was frequently overlooked. That was what Lady Easton intended when she brought Jayne in to be Lizette’s companion. Her plainness
made Lizette’s delicate features shine so much brighter. “It’s no matter.”

  He swept off his hat and bowed. “Fletcher Nash, at your service.”

  She inclined her head and managed a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Nash. I’ll be relieved to get to Camprich Manor and greet the lord and lady.”

  Mr. Nash replaced his cowboy hat. “There’s a problem with that.”

  Fear tumbled into her stomach. “What sort of problem?”

  “Lord and Lady Camprich left for the Continent a week ago.”

  “With their daughter?” She pressed her hand to her stomach. What in the world would she do? Where to go? Lady Easton had given her a nice sum for her services, but it would run out eventually.

  “No, Miss Bethany remained behind. Your position is safe.” He picked up her valise, set it aside, then lifted the top trunk. He barely grunted at the weight as he shifted it into the cart.

  Jayne fanned her face. “Thank heavens.”

  “Rest assured, you’re needed more than ever with Lady Camprich across the sea. Miss Bethany is looking forward to your arrival.”

  “And I’m looking forward to the introduction. I’m sorry I missed the lord and lady, though. I had no idea they intended to leave.”

  He grunted when he lifted the second trunk. Mr. Nash seemed fit enough for the task, but a sheen of sweat dampened his face. He loaded the final trunk, then tossed the valise on top. “And we’re off. Need a hand up?”

  “No, I’m capable. Thank you.” She approached the cart, avoiding Duff’s mouth, though he barely blinked at her. She climbed up the side. Rich maroon velvet covered the cushioned seat. The ride back to the manor would be in comfort, even if her nerves still tingled and her stomach fluttered.

  Mr. Nash joined her on the seat, then set Duff into motion. “Sorry for the wait this morning. At least it stopped raining.”

  “I’m sure your reasons for the delay are valid.” Or he’d forgotten her, which wouldn’t come as a surprise.

  “I didn’t forget you, if that’s what you’re thinking. We had half a dozen mares escape from the paddock right before dawn. It took most of the morning to round them up. Not a single one of them wanted to come home. Not for food or sweet talking or to get back together with the part of the herd that didn’t run away. I can imagine what Lord Camprich would have said if he knew they got out. It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

  “How did they get loose?” Half a dozen finding themselves outside their confinement areas seemed like a great number.

  “One of the hostlers left a gate unlatched. Careless fool. I fired him right there. Those glossy-coated, prancing ponies cost more than it takes to pay him for a year. Now I’m short-handed.”

  “You manage Lord Camprich’s stables?” She knew little about horses. One small girl would be far easier to watch after than even one horse.

  “Stable foreman. More like an overpaid hostler. Camprich has some of the finest stock I’ve seen in my lifetime, but most of them are unmanageable monsters because he’s always off touring some part of the country or out of England altogether. The foreman before me didn’t bother with breaking any of the colts born on the estate. To be blunt, Camprich is oblivious to what he has here, and in the past, his hired help wasn’t always helpful.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m giving you a poor impression of a man you haven’t even met. He’s a good boss. Listens to my concerns when he’s available to hear them. We’ve made major improvements to his stables in the last year. It’s not the worst place anyone could find work.”

  Interesting and puzzling. “If you don’t mind me asking, whatever brought you to England? I’ve met a few Americans, but not enough that you aren’t still a little exotic to me. Especially your hat.”

  He met her gaze and laughed. “My hat is a frequent topic of conversation around here. Money, in short brought me here, Miss Strange. Camprich offered me a real nice sum if I’d come be his…how’d he put it? His horse wrangler. I think the American West was rubbing off on him. My official contract calls me a foreman. I like that better.”

  “It sounds like an exciting story, Mr. Nash.” Her voice got quieter with every word, a problem she’d developed early on once she realized men weren’t interested in paying her any mind. Being plain and lacking a dowry made them run away in droves.

  “Not really. I did mounted shooting and stunt riding in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West tour. Camprich happened to catch it both during Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee and in the States. He was in sore need of a dependable man to straighten out his stables. Money came into the picture and here I am.”

  Surely there was more to it than that. “You gave up everything in America to come here? To a place your family probably fled less than a hundred years ago. Seems to be a bit of step backward, I’d say.”

  He stared at her.

  Heat flooded her face. “Forgive me. I’ve often been told I too readily express my opinions.”

  He cleared his throat. “I didn’t have much to give up, to be honest. It wasn’t some great sacrifice. It was stepping onto a boat and moving to a country I’ve only heard about. Not so bad.”

  “I can’t imagine trying to figure out the differences. I think I’d be terrified to cross an ocean. You’d have no friends, no family in a strange place.” Although, she had neither this far from London. If she’d ever really had friends. Most of the women she knew were far better acquainted with Lizette and only invited her along as a kindness.

  “I guess I was ready for a change of pace. It was a little boggling, coming here. You call cookies biscuits. Why?”

  “Your biscuits are more what we would call a scone.” The one in her handbag was probably crumpled to crumbs by now. “There must be a thousand things that confused or frustrated you about coming here.”

  “I adjusted well enough. Always have.” He took one hand from the reins to point into the distance. “There. That’s Camprich Manor, nestled into the valley.”

  The house, cut from limestone, rose up three stories. Green ivy climbed the sides, blanketing the stone with waving leaves. Smoke curled from the twin chimneys at either end. A fountain in the middle of the circle drive, some large effigy she couldn’t make out yet, glistened with a spray of water. Even at the distance, the tended gardens dotted with color drew the eye.

  The stable was some distance from the house, but no less spectacular with the same stone and red pitched roof. Horses of many colors littered the green paddocks.

  “It’s lovely.”

  “I’m fond of it.” He clicked his tongue at Duff.

  The horse picked up the pace.

  “You don’t miss America even a little? What part of it were you from?” Once freed, her curiosity wouldn’t be sated until she had all the answers.

  “I only miss it when some blockhead hostler lets the horses out, then the horses refuse to cooperate. Or when I express a concern and my boss dismisses it. Or when people start gossiping about my hat and my accent and my strange American ways. That’s when I want to throw all this away. Mostly, I’m content enough right here.”

  “Have I been too pushy about it?” She could be. Lady Easton had chastised her for it. “As I said, I’ve not made acquaintance with many Americans. I imagine you would have a lot of questions if I came to your shore.”

  “It’s fine. Too many questions can be overwhelming, even answering some of the same ones again and again can become irritating, but I can see you’re honestly curious.” He shrugged. “Don’t fret about it. Oh, and Texas. That’s where I’m from.”

  Her American geography knowledge was sorely lacking. “Which is how close to New York?”

  Mr. Nash’s deep laughter rang out over the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels. “A long, long way. At the bottom of the States. It touches Mexico.”

  She had a vague idea of where Mexico was. “I see. You worked on a ranch there? With cattle, I assume.”

  “I did.”

  “Does it rain there much? Or is it dry? I can’t eve
n imagine what a desert must be like.”

  “It rains enough to keep good grass for the cattle. Most of the time. We get droughts, but I suppose everyone does. No deserts for us. You should go to Texas, if you ever have the chance. It’s a whole other world compared to your civilized country.”

  “Are there truly snakes with rattles on their tales?” The very notion made her shudder. Wild Indians, snakes, endless prairie, and outlaws was a lot of danger for one place.

  “There surely are. The biggest one I ever saw must have been as tall as me. But the way I understand it, Texas doesn’t have anything on some of those wild places you hear about in Australia.” He smiled again. “Much as I’d like to answer your every question about it, I have to get back to work. And you have an afternoon with Miss Bethany.”

  The dogcart made its way up the lane to the main house. Up close everything was even prettier than it had been far away.