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Marianne and the Marquis
Marianne and the Marquis
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Marianne and the Marquis

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Marianne and the Marquis
Anne Herries

Sheltered innocent Miss Marianne Horne had come to Cornwall to care for her ailing greataunt. She had expected quiet and solitudenot to be drawn into adventure! Surrounded by smugglers, spies and plots, Marianne hardly knew whom to trust.Instinctively, she turned to the enigmatic and handsome Mr. Beck. But plain Mr. Beck turned out to be Andrew, Marquis of Marlbecka nobleman who surely would never look twice at the daughter of a country vicar. So why was he insistent on paying Marianne such flattering attention?

“I kissed you because I find you irresistible, but I am sorry if I have offended you, Miss Horne. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.”

Her eyes widened, their color the hue of a mountain pool, clear and green, touched by sunshine. And then she smiled.

“You have robbed your action of any offense, sir. Nor can I pretend that I found it distasteful, for I did not—though I beg that you will not do it again without my permission.”

Drew laughed, for she was a breath of fresh air. It was her frankness, her open manner that fascinated him as much as her beauty. He had met women in society who might perhaps come near to her in looks, but none had made this direct appeal to his senses. At that moment he would have liked to take her down to the soft earth and lose himself in the sweetness of her flesh. Yet if he did that she would hate him, and he would be beyond redemption.

Marianne and the Marquis

Harlequin

Historical

Author Note

Marianne’s story is the first of a trilogy dealing with the lives and loves of three sisters. Marianne, Jo and Lucy are the Reverend Horne’s daughters, and their papa, now sadly deceased, has been a big influence on their lives. Now things must change, for their mama has very little money and is at the mercy of her sister’s charity. When Marianne is asked to stay with an ailing great-aunt, she cannot guess that she will be involved with dangerous smugglers, or that she will find love and change her life forever.

I hope, dear reader, that you will enjoy following Marianne’s story and those of her sisters as they struggle against—and overcome—the difficulties fate throws at them.

Look for Jo’s story in

Married by Christmas

and Lucy’s in

Marrying Captain Jack

Coming soon

Marianne and the Marquis

Anne Herries

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

ANNE HERRIES

Award-winning author Anne Herries lives in Cambridgeshire, England. She is fond of watching wildlife, and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books—although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. She invites readers to contact her on her Web site, www.lindasole.co.uk.

Available from Harlequin

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Afterword

Chapter One

London—1813

‘They are a particularly nasty lot,’ Captain Jack Harcourt said to his friend when they met at their sporting club that August afternoon. They had enjoyed a bout in the ring under the tuition of the master pugilist, Gentleman Jackson, and, stripped to the waist, their bodies gleamed with sweat. Jack’s opponent was a little taller and more muscular, but they were evenly matched. ‘If you take this on, you must understand that you risk your life if you are caught.’

Andrew, Lord Beck, Marquis of Marlbeck, doused himself under the pump in the yard and grinned at his friend of many years. They were alike in so many ways that they might have been blood kin, but in fact there was no relationship other than the bond they had forged fighting together in Portugal and Spain.

‘If I were fool enough to get caught, I should deserve my fate,’ he said, his eyes bright with mockery. ‘Do not fear, Jack. I shan’t let you down. I may have been forced to sell my commission, but I haven’t gone soft. If this spy is to be found where you say, I am your man.’

‘I didn’t imagine you had lost your nerve for a moment. I rely on you to get to the bottom of this,’ Jack told him. ‘Because of him, seven of our friends died, Drew—and there were the men that served with us. At least twenty died needlessly that day, and who knows how many more? I want revenge for them, as I know you do. I would investigate this tale myself, but I have been seconded to special duties for Wellington.’

‘You believe the spy was one of our own?’ Drew looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Someone we fought with, ate with…’ He frowned, tasting the bitterness he had tried so hard to put behind him these past months. ‘I like not the thought of that, Jack.’

The memory of all that they and their comrades had shared out there, of the pain, fear and grief at seeing the men they knew and cared for die in agony, was sharp in his mind.

‘It makes me sick to my stomach,’ Jack replied. ‘If I could think otherwise, I should be a happier man—but everything leads me to believe that we were betrayed that day by an Englishman—and that even now he is working for Bonaparte.’

‘My God!’ Drew’s eyes glinted with anger. He could never forget that day in Spain when he and a small detachment of his men had been sent on what was supposed to be a surprise sortie against the French. The enemy had somehow known of their coming and, though Jack, two others and Drew had escaped with their lives, seven of their comrades had been cut down as well as a number of the men that followed them. ‘If I find him, he should say his last prayers!’

‘No, that is not the way,’ Jack warned him. ‘He must hang for his sins, Drew. If you take summary justice you are no better than he and his accomplices.’

‘You think there was more than one involved?’

‘One Englishman—the others are undoubtedly French.’

‘And you think that they are now running this smuggling gang?’

‘The smuggling is a cover for their other activities,’ Jack said. ‘I am sure that the spy comes and goes with the French ship, which brings in brandy, silks and laces under cover of darkness. But the Englishman is able to mix with people like us and use what he learns against our army. In short, he is a gentleman, or what passes for one. We are far from done with this war, Drew. It will come to a showdown in the end, and Wellington wants this spy caught and hung before he can betray more of our secrets.’

‘The devil he does!’ Drew frowned, his eyes glinting with blue fire, which burned cold, black ice at its centre. ‘Well, I shall do my best to bring the traitor to heel.’ He clapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘It was good to have this time with you, Jack. I miss the old days…’

Drew had been called home when his uncle died—the Marlbeck estate was an important one, and, as his uncle’s heir, he had been expected to sell his commission. It was his duty to care for the land, but with no other family, except a cousin some twenty years his senior, he sometimes found it a lonely task, missing the comradeship he had known in the army.

‘You are sure you wish to become involved in this?’ Jack asked. ‘When Old Hooky suggested you, I thought you would turn it down. I confess I am surprised that you feel able to take something like this on. You must have enough to do with Marlbeck?’

‘Duty becomes boring at times,’ Drew said wryly. ‘Wait until you are forced to settle down, my friend. You may long for adventure.’

‘Adventure?’ Jack frowned and wondered. He loved Drew as a friend and a brother, but there had been times when his wildness and temper had led him astray. ‘This is serious business, Drew. You would be well advised not to forget it.’

‘Do not look so doubtful,’ Drew told him. ‘I assure you that I am over all that…the nightmares hardly trouble me now. And even if they did, I should not let them interfere with my duty. You have asked me to discover the identity of the man who betrayed us—a spy working for the French and using a smuggling gang to cover his activities. I give you my word that I shall do everything I can to bring him to justice.’

‘Then Wellington was right,’ Jack said. ‘You are the man for the work—and here’s my hand on it.’

Drew clasped his hand firmly. No need to tell his friend that if he ever caught the spy, and knew him to be the traitor who had betrayed so many good men, he would kill him.

‘Your aunt is coming to tea this afternoon, Marianne,’ Mrs Horne announced as the family sat in their handsome parlour. The Vicarage was a large, substantial house filled with the personal treasures accumulated over the last twenty-five years since Mrs Horne had first come there as a bride. It had a slightly shabby air—money had not been plentiful—but until the last few months that had not bothered the family one whit. However, today there was a slightly apprehensive look in her soft blue eyes, for Cynthia Horne had always been in awe of her sister, and the feeling had grown more overpowering since the tragic death of the Reverend Horne some months earlier. ‘Her note says that she has something she wishes to discuss with us.’