скачать книгу бесплатно
From Governess To Countess
Marguerite Kaye
The scandalous truth…She’s the Count’s new mistress!In this Matches Made in Scandal story Count Aleksei Derevenko hires governess Allison Galbraith for her skills as a herbalist, not as a mistress! But when rumours spread Allison is shocked by her wanton reaction to Aleksei. His inscrutable icy blue eyes promise white-hot nights of sin! She knows too well how fragile her reputation is, but will the price of their passion be worth paying?
The scandalous truth about the count’s new mistress!
A Matches Made in Scandal story
Count Aleksei Derevenko has hired governess Allison Galbraith for her skills as a herbalist, not a mistress! But when rumors spread, Allison is more shocked by her wanton reaction to Aleksei—inscrutable and impossibly handsome, his icy blue eyes promise white-hot nights of sin. She knows too well how fragile her reputation is, but will the price of their passion be worth paying?
“Readers will be seduced by the passionate natures of the protagonists, and the fast-paced, thrilling adventure.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Harlot and the Sheikh
“Fairytales do come true... There is plenty of action and adventure to captivate all readers.”
—RT Book Reviews on Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride
Matches Made in Scandal miniseries
Book 1—From Governess to Countess
Book 2—From Courtesan to Convenient Wife—coming soon
MARGUERITE KAYE writes hot historical romances from her home in cold and usually rainy Scotland, featuring Regency rakes, Highlanders and sheikhs. She has published almost fifty books and novellas. When she’s not writing she enjoys walking, cycling—but only on the level—gardening—but only what she can eat—and cooking. She also likes to knit and occasionally drink martinis—though not at the same time. Find out more on her website: margueritekaye.com (http://www.margueritekaye.com).
Also by Marguerite Kaye
Scandal at the Midsummer BallScandal at the Christmas Ball
Comrades in Arms miniseries
The Soldier’s Dark SecretThe Soldier’s Rebel Lover
Hot Arabian Nights miniseries
The Widow and the Sheikh
Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride
The Harlot and the Sheikh
Claiming His Desert Princess
Matches Made in Scandal miniseries
From Governess to Countess
And look out for the next book
From Courtesan to Convenient Wife Available April 2018
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
From Governess to Countess
Marguerite Kaye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07347-9
FROM GOVERNESS TO COUNTESS
© 2018 Marguerite Kaye
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ 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.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my cousin Allison Rankin, who requested that her namesake be a feisty heroine with red hair. Be careful what you wish for!
This is also for Alison Lyndsay and Alison Lodge, heroines in their own right. A huge thank-you for your generosity and support, in terms of research and book recommendations, and most of all for your friendship.
Contents
Cover (#u6f26d54a-357c-5409-a45b-ef7f935f7653)
Back Cover Text (#u59f101f8-0b08-54a2-bfdf-2e2f042ad7b1)
About the Author (#uf3216893-d35a-5109-9c79-047e7a117dac)
Booklist (#u8603f4e0-1d1d-5fb6-a5b3-7b81786de2fc)
Title Page (#uf23efd30-0a24-56e4-874d-416236fff439)
Copyright (#u0c17f33d-5a4d-5836-9590-a50ae81f0299)
Dedication (#ud965ac01-4135-56da-911f-55fe9b852ea8)
Prologue (#u04652d18-1b87-5ebe-9122-a8830c072fe7)
Chapter One (#uc2bb9c45-8d07-5316-9537-79bdb2f6f230)
Chapter Two (#ua9c4c491-e4b5-589a-a7ce-f1ba73cb8e9c)
Chapter Three (#u525fade6-09ef-574f-9e96-46cedfc85192)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Historical Note (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u8389316a-1f91-5eb2-8398-0769950bc358)
Hampstead, near London—summer 1815
The village of Hampstead enjoyed an enviable location on the fringes of the capital. Though its popularity as a spa retreat had declined somewhat, the fresh, clean air and its proximity to London had encouraged a number of well-heeled new residents to settle there. Passing through fruit farms and dairies on her journey from the city, the woman known only by her enigmatic epithet The Procurer had enjoyed the rustic charm and tranquil atmosphere of her surroundings, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of London where she plied her clandestine trade. Reining in her greys, she brought her phaeton to a halt before summoning a small boy standing idly nearby. She handed him the reins and proffered a sixpence. ‘I am looking for a Miss Galbraith.’
The child’s eyes widened, though he accepted both the reins and the coin. ‘Me mam says she’s one as don’t want to be found,’ he answered in a hushed voice. ‘She don’t answer the door to no one.’
The Procurer’s face tightened at this tangible evidence of the woman’s fall from grace. If it was at all possible, she was determined to provide this most deserving of cases with the means to redeem herself. No one deserved to be vilified by the gutter press in the manner she had been. Provided, of course, Miss Galbraith was a satisfactory match for her client’s requirements. The Procurer approved of altruism but drew the line at charity. ‘Then it is as well that I am someone,’ she said crisply to the boy. ‘Rest assured, she will answer the door to me. Now, point me in the direction of her abode, and no more of your lip.’
The cottage was located at the end of a row on the far edge of the village. It had a sunny, south-facing garden, but it was sadly neglected and overgrown with weeds. Though the street appeared deserted, The Procurer had the distinct impression that behind the curtained windows of the other cottages, the occupants were watching intently. As she picked her way up the little path to the front door, the contented buzzing of bees collecting pollen from the thicket of wild roses filled the air.
The cottage looked for all the world as if it was uninhabited. The windows were tightly shuttered. The shape of the door knocker was outlined by the bleached paint, but the mechanism itself had been removed. The Procurer rapped sharply with her knuckles.
‘Please go away, I do not receive or welcome visitors,’ a voice from behind the door urged.
‘That is disappointing to hear, since I have travelled from London to discuss a matter of great import with you.’
‘Then I’m afraid you have had a wasted journey. Whoever you are, and whatever it is you want, I cannot help you.’
‘You mistake my purpose. It is I who have come to help you. But I cannot do that if I am to be left standing on your doorstep. Will you not invite me in and at least hear me out? I am acquainted with your recent history and understand your natural suspiciousness, Miss Galbraith, but I bear you no ill will, I assure you.’
There was no immediate response but The Procurer’s patience was rewarded about thirty seconds later when the door opened just enough for her to slip inside before it slammed shut again.
The woman who stared back at her in confusion bore a clear resemblance to her many newspaper caricatures, though her expression was wary, rather than evil. Her distinctive bright copper hair was tied in a simple chignon, not tumbling wantonly over her shoulders as it was customarily depicted in the press. Her chin was determined, but her mouth was soft and full. Of petite stature, she looked to The Procurer to be twenty-five or six, though she had, according to the gutter press, turned thirty. There were shadows under her big hazel eyes flecked with gold, her skin had the dull, lacklustre look of someone who had been hiding from plain view, skulking in the shadows. ‘Do not look so afraid, Miss Galbraith,’ she said, ‘I truly have come here to help you.’
‘I am sure you mean well, but you are mistaken. No one can help me.’
‘Not if you are determined to let Dr Anthony Merchmont and his medical cronies destroy not only your reputation as London’s pre-eminent herbalist, but your entire life.’
Allison Galbraith’s eyes flashed with anger at this barb. An encouraging sign, The Procurer decided.
‘As you have pointed out, my reputation is already in tatters.’
‘Very true,’ The Procurer conceded. ‘However, six months have elapsed,’ she continued briskly. ‘Time to embrace a new challenge. I can offer you rehabilitation.’
‘Impossible.’ Miss Galbraith’s voice was resigned. ‘Look, I have no idea who you are, but...’
‘I am known, rather fancifully in my opinion, as The Procurer. You may have heard mention of me.’
The revelation was met by a surprised widening of the eyes, a mouth curved into the faintest of smiles. ‘All of London has heard tell of The Procurer, though few have ever encountered you in the flesh. I was not aware you were a fellow Scot. I certainly did not expect—’ Miss Galbraith broke off, blushing. ‘You are so young and nothing like...’
‘The person my reputation would suggest? Then we have that much in common, do we not?’
A dejected little laugh greeted this remark. ‘We might, if I still had a reputation. Your position in society is quite unassailable, while I...’
‘You are a social pariah.’
A harsher laugh greeted this remark. ‘You certainly do not mince your words.’
‘In my business, straight talking is essential.’
‘Then I will reply in a similar vein, madam. I cannot for the life of me comprehend why you should wish to help me.’
‘I know what it is like, Miss Galbraith, to be a woman in a man’s world. To succeed as you did—and as I have—requires an uncommon level of determination and ambition. The sacrifices you have made, the hurdles you have overcome, would have defeated a lesser character.’
‘But not you?’
The remark was intended to be flattering, but provoked a different reaction. ‘I have succeeded on my own terms, but at considerable cost,’ The Procurer said, as much a reminder to herself as a boast. She would not permit herself to wonder whether the sacrifices had been worth it. ‘It is not simply a matter of character, Miss Galbraith. I am in control of my own destiny and answerable to no one, that is true, but it was not always so.’
‘In that sense we differ greatly, madam,’ Miss Galbraith replied wryly, ‘for even at the height of my success, I was beholden to society.’
‘And society chose to condemn you. Now you are choosing to abide by that judgement. Do you agree with it, Miss Galbraith? Or do you think you deserve a second chance?’
‘Is that what you are offering?’
