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Disgrace and Desire
Sarah Mallory
They call her the Wanton Widow. . .Breathtakingly beautiful Lady Eloise Allyngham scandalises and seduces the ton in equal measure. With all of London falling at her feet, wagers abound over who will capture the fast, flirtatious, disgraceful Lady Eloise – and her fortune…Dashing Major Jack Clifton has vowed to watch over his late comrade’s wife, but her beauty fires his blood, and her behaviour intrigues him even further. Only the lady is not what she seems, and Jack must discover the secret she fiercely hides if he is to protect her…
Praise for Sarah Mallory:
‘Sarah Mallory’s name
is set to become a favourite with readers of historical
romantic fiction the world over!’
—Cataromance
‘MORE THAN A GOVERNESS is a richly woven tale
of passion, intrigue and suspense that deserves a place
on your keeper shelf!’
—Cataromance
‘You know what people are saying about you and Mortimer?’
She recoiled a little.
‘I neither know nor care,’ she retorted.
‘I would not have you dishonour your husband’s name, madam.’
Her eyes darkened angrily.
‘How dare you suggest I would do that?’
Her eyes darted fire, and she moved forward as if to engage with him. Jack could not look away: his gaze was locked with hers and he felt as if he was drowning in the blue depths of her eyes. She was so close that her perfume filled his head, suspending reason. A sudden, fierce desire coursed through him. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her close, and as her lips parted to object he captured them with his own. He felt her tremble in his arms, then she was still, her mouth yielding and compliant beneath the onslaught of his kiss.
Disgrace and Desire
Sarah Mallory
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Author Note
Every book is special to its author, and DISGRACE AND DESIRE is no exception. It is the story of exceptional friendship and loyalty as well as love.
Eloise’s childhood friend Alex sums her up perfectly when he says of her, ‘She was loyal to a fault, and often took the blame for our pranks…She spent most of her time rescuing us from our more outlandish scrapes.’
This was the premise for my story of a widow who is so fiercely loyal to the memory of her husband that she will go to almost any lengths to protect his good name, even risking her own reputation. She is aptly named, too, after Heloise, the lover of Peter Abelard and a woman revered for her fidelity and piety.
I wanted a very special hero to complement my heroine, and Major Jack Clifton came striding onto the scene. Darkly handsome, an honourable soldier and intensely chivalrous, Jack comes from the bloody battlefield of Waterloo to the glittering ballrooms of London to fulfil a promise made to a dying colleague, and he finds Lady Allyngham is not the shy, retiring widow he was expecting! He is captivated by her beauty but increasingly intrigued by her behaviour: is her reputation as a wicked flirt merely a façade?
Eloise discovers that she is attracted to the dashing Major in a way she has never experienced before, and she is torn between her new love and old loyalties. She doesn’t want Jack to think badly of her, and she needs his help, yet she is not prepared to confess to him her secrets—secrets that she says are not hers to share.
Eloise needs to protect the reputation of her friend and the good name of Allyngham, and also defeat the villain who threatens to expose her before she can even consider winning Jack’s love. It’s a tall order, but this is, after all, a romance, so there must be a way. I hope you enjoy her story.
About the Author
SARAH MALLORY was born in Bristol, and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. She left grammar school at sixteen, to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen-name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2005 from Singletitles.com for Dance for a Diamond and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice in November 2006 for Gentlemen in Question.
Recent novels by the same author:
THE WICKED BARON MORE THAN A GOVERNESS (part of On Mothering Sunday) WICKED CAPTAIN, WAYWARD WIFE THE EARL’S RUNAWAY BRIDE
For Dave, Roger and Norman, my very first heroes!
Prologue
Major Jack Clifton dragged one grimy sleeve across his brow. The battle had been raging all day near the little village of Waterloo. The tall fields of rye grass had been trampled into the ground as wave after wave of cavalry charged the British squares between bouts of deadly artillery fire. A smoky grey cloud hung over the battlefield and the bright colours of the uniforms were muted by a thick film of dust and mud.
‘Look,’ said his sergeant, pointing to the far ridge. ‘That’s Bonaparte up there!’
A nervous murmur ran through the square.
‘Aye,’ Jack countered cheerfully. ‘And Wellington’s behind us, watching our every move.’
‘So ’e is,’ grinned the sergeant. ‘Well, then, let’s show the Duke we ain’t afraid of those Frenchies.’
Another cavalry charge came thundering towards them, only to fall back in a welter of mud, blood and confusion. Jack rallied his men, knowing that as long as he stayed calm the square would hold. A sudden flurry of activity caught his attention and a party of soldiers approached him, carrying someone in a blanket.
‘Lord Allyngham, Major,’ called one of the men as they laid their burden on the ground. ‘Took a cannonball in his shoulder. He was asking for you.’
The bloodied figure on the blanket raised his hand.
‘Clifton. Is he here?’
Jack dropped on one knee beside him. He averted his eyes from the shattered shoulder.
‘I’m here, my lord.’
‘Can’t—see—you.’
Jack took the raised hand.
‘I’m here, Tony.’
His calm words seemed to reassure Lord Allyngham.
‘Letters,’ he muttered. ‘In my jacket. Will you see they are sent back to England, Jack? One for my wife, one for Mortimer, my…neighbour. Important…that they get them.’
‘Of course. I’ll make sure they are sent tonight with the despatches.’
‘Thank you.’
Jack glanced up at the sergeant.
‘Take him back, Robert, and get a surgeon—’
‘No.’ The grip on his hand suddenly tightened. ‘No point: I know I’m done for.’
‘Nonsense,’ growled Jack. ‘We’ll have the sawbones patch you up—’
The glazed eyes seemed to clear and gain focus as he looked at Jack.
‘Not enough left to patch,’ he gasped. ‘No, Jack, listen to me! One more thing—do I still have my hand?’
Jack glanced at the mangled mess of blood and bone that was his left side.
‘Aye, you do.’
‘Good. Can you take my ring? And the locket—on a ribbon about my neck. Take ’em back to my wife, will you? In person, Jack. I’ll not trust these damned carriers with anything so dear. Take ’em now, my friend.’ He gritted his teeth against the pain as he struggled to pull a silk ribbon from beneath his jacket.
‘Be assured, Tony, I’ll deliver them in person,’ said Jack quietly, easing the ring from the bloodied little finger.
Allyngham nodded.
‘I’m obliged to you.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Good woman, Eloise. Very loyal. Deserved better. Tell her—’ He broke off, wincing. He clutched at Jack’s hand again. ‘Tell her to be happy.’
Jack dropped the locket and the ring into his pocket and carefully buttoned the flap.
‘I will, you have my word. And if there is anything I can do to help Lady Allyngham, be sure I shall do it.’
‘Thank you. Mortimer will look after her while she is in mourning but after that, keep an eye on her for me, Jack. She’s such an innocent little thing.’
A sudden shout went up. Jack looked up. For the past few moments he had been oblivious of the noise of the battle raging around him. Allyngham opened his eyes.
‘What is it, why are they shouting?’
All around them the men were beginning to cheer.
‘The French are in retreat,’ said Jack, his voice not quite steady.
Allyngham nodded, his cracked lips stretching into a smile.
‘Damnation, I knew the Duke would do it.’ He waved his hand. ‘Go now, Major. Go and do your duty. My men will look after me here.’
An ensign at his side nodded.
‘Aye, we’ll take care of him, sir,’ he said, tears in his eyes. ‘You may be sure we won’t leave him.’
Jack looked down at the pain-racked face. Lord Allyngham gave a strained smile and said, ‘Off you go, my friend.’
Jack rose and followed his men down the hill in pursuit of the French, who were now in full flight.
‘Steady, lads,’ he called, drawing his sword. ‘We’ll chase ’em all the way to Paris!’
In the drawing room of Allyngham Park, Eloise stood by one of the long windows, gazing out across the park, but the fine view swam before her eyes. There were two sheets of paper clutched in her hand and she glanced down at them before placing them upon the console table beside her. It would be useless to try to read while her eyes were so full of tears. She took out her handkerchief. It was already damp and of little use in drying her cheeks.
‘Mr Mortimer, my lady.’
At the butler’s solemn pronouncement she turned to see Alex Mortimer standing in the doorway. His naturally fair countenance was paler than ever and there was a stricken look in his eyes.
‘You have heard?’ She forced the words out.
‘Yes.’ He pulled a letter from his pocket. ‘I came over as soon as this arrived. I am so very sorry.’
With a cry she flew across the room and threw herself upon his chest.
‘Oh Alex, he is d-dead,’ she sobbed. ‘What are we going to do?’
She felt a shudder run through him. For a long while they sat on the sofa with their arms around each other. The shadows lengthened in the room and at last Eloise gently released herself.
‘It says he d-died at the end of the day, and…and he knew that the battle was won.’ She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of the fine linen fichu that covered her shoulders.
‘Then at least he knew he had not died in vain.’ Alex had turned away but she knew he, too, was wiping away the tears. ‘I had the news from a Major Clifton. He enclosed Tony’s last message to me.’
Eloise rose and took a deep breath, striving for some semblance of normality. She walked over to pick up the papers.
‘Yes, that is the name here, too. He says Tony gave him our letters to send on.’ She swallowed painfully. ‘Tony knew what danger he was facing. He…he wrote to say goodbye to us.’
Alex nodded. ‘He bids me look after you, until you marry again.’
‘Oh.’ Eloise put her hands over her face. ‘I shall never marry again,’ she said at last.
Alex put his hands on her shoulders.
‘Elle, you do not know that.’
‘Oh, I do,’ she sobbed, ‘I doubt there is another man in the world as good, and kind, and generous as Tony Allyngham.’
‘How can I disagree with that?’ He gave her a sad little smile. ‘And yet you are young, too young to bury yourself away here at Allyngham.’
She held up Tony’s last letter.
‘He has asked me to ensure that our plans for the foundling hospital go ahead. You will remember we discussed it just before he left for Brussels.’ She sighed. ‘How typical that when he was facing such danger Tony should think of others.’
He took her hand, saying gently, ‘My dear, you will be able to do nothing until the formalities are complete. You will need to summon your man of business, and notify everyone.’
‘Yes, yes.’ She clutched his fingers. ‘You will help me, will you not, Alex? You won’t leave me?’
