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Accidental Fiancee
Mary Moore
NECESSARY NUPTIALSLady Grace Endicott never would have dreamed she’d be ruined by a rake. But after an innocent encounter with notorious scoundrel Lord Weston is misconstrued, her beloved sister’s introduction to society—and her own reputation—are put at risk. The only way to avoid a scandal is a betrothal.Brandon Roth—Lord Weston—doesn’t quite know what to think of his independent fiancée…or their growing friendship. Yet their engagement ruse is quickly becoming more than a temporary fix. If he can convince Grace that his wicked ways are now far behind him, he’ll be able to prove that he wants nothing more than to care for the lovely lady…
Necessary Nuptials
Lady Grace Endicott never would have dreamed she’d be ruined by a rake. But after an innocent encounter with notorious scoundrel Lord Weston is misconstrued, her beloved sister’s introduction to society—and her own reputation—are put at risk. The only way to avoid a scandal is a betrothal.
Brandon Roth—Lord Weston—doesn’t quite know what to think of his independent fiancée…or their growing friendship. Yet their engagement ruse is quickly becoming more than a temporary fix. If he can convince Grace that his wicked ways are now far behind him, he’ll be able to prove that he wants nothing more than to care for the lovely lady…
“My dear, this story will be all over Town by morning.
And if you think being secluded with a well-known rake without the explanation of an engagement would not stop your sister’s presentation before it ever started, then I think whoever sent you to London on your own ought to be horsewhipped. You are no more prepared to face it than a newborn babe.”
He stopped, turned toward her and looked directly into those green orbs. “I am afraid, my dear, that I will not be a part of your ruination.”
“Do all the women you know stand by and let you insult them to their face? Indeed, I understand the damage gossip could do to my sister. That is why I wish to see this situation resolved before that gossip can spread. Just tell me how we may fix this, and then we may go on our way.”
He looked at her in a very peculiar way. “Madam, the only ‘fix’ is to continue with the engagement. We are betrothed, and my next step is to go see your father.”
MARY MOORE
has been writing historical fiction for more than fifteen years. After battling and beating breast cancer, Mary is even more excited about her career, as she incorporates some of her struggles throughout her books, dedicated to encouraging others in the Lord and using her writing for God’s glory.
Her debut novel, The Aristocrat’s Lady, won several acclaimed awards, including the 2011 Reviewers’ Choice Award by RT Book Reviews for Best Love Inspired Historical, and the 2011 Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers for Best Book by a Virginia Author. She also received an Award of Merit for Best First Book and Best Long Inspirational by the VRW.
Mary is a native of the Washington, DC, area, but she and her husband, Craig, now live in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains in southwestern Virginia. When not writing, she loves to read, minister in her church and spend time with her husband, either at home or traveling.
Mary would love to hear from you! She can be reached by visiting her website at www.marymooreauthor.com (http://www.marymooreauthor.com), or you can email her at mmooreauthor@swva.net.
Accidental Fiancée
Mary Moore
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.
—Ephesians 2:8
This Book Is Dedicated To:
Jesus Christ,
My Savior and Lord
And To:
My Mom,
Jeanne Callaghan O’Leary.
Her life was such a tremendous example of grace and love that it touched everyone she met.
I love and miss you, Mom.
Special Thanks To:
Craig,
My husband and Best Friend
And To:
My Agent, Jenni Burke.
Without her help, encouragement and passion, you would not be reading this today.
Contents
Cover (#u057a6b10-8525-5d28-b47e-26caa024d181)
Back Cover Text (#ud93de214-1711-5337-bb32-8049aac67079)
Introduction (#ua5d519de-7796-51ce-8b55-d4c172b9af52)
About the Author (#uc36cb61f-6fb3-52e0-a1ce-987ad3accef1)
Title Page (#u7468112a-ecef-5eab-864e-9c68a1864f79)
Bible Verse (#u783ee0b5-9135-52f5-aa8f-9b3835b90a78)
Dedication (#ua8ee85d8-45a8-58bc-bff9-6b3b1d057710)
Chapter One (#ulink_bf19a0af-14be-5c6c-b2be-6d6ab3fdce13)
Chapter Two (#ulink_9ba3c65e-7e71-5368-ad3c-3c614192f86d)
Chapter Three (#ulink_54e3d1d0-1204-5bd3-8dd1-2276944b2ac7)
Chapter Four (#ulink_b552ffc6-dcb0-5d7e-93cf-93de5fcc3a75)
Chapter Five (#ulink_aa461e18-75dc-5d0b-9f45-8695b08bf08d)
Chapter Six (#ulink_7026d9eb-0f98-5e97-82a5-9e6997aa67e7)
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)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_0af19adb-92a5-589d-a805-ce2c043598ec)
En Route to London, 1817
“Oh, Grace, it can be none of our concern!” Grace’s younger sister, Lydia, warned softly. “I am persuaded it would be better if we did not get involved.” But Grace was already walking toward their parlor door at the Blue Swan Inn.
Sitting quietly over a pot of tea in their private parlor, Lady Grace Endicott and her sister had been surprised to hear voices from the next room come clearly through the inn’s thin walls.
“I tell you, Mama, it was Lord Weston pulling into the yard,” said a faceless voice in a tone of loud frustration.
“But, dear, what does it matter?” asked a harried older woman in response.
The first voice, more menacing now, drawled, “Really, Mother, must I spell everything out for you?”
Grace now had the two women pictured in her mind and she did not like the view. Would a daughter really speak so to her parent?
“My dear Charlotte,” the mother complained, “Lord Weston is rich, to be sure, but should you like to be married to him? He has quite a reputation as a rake.”
Charlotte snorted loudly. “What a singularly stupid question. Do I wish to be a marchioness with more pin money than you can even imagine? He must marry sometime. He has to beget an heir. Once I have provided one, I will be free to go my own way...with all the money I need to do so.”
Charlotte’s mother responded, “So you have a plan?” Then she asked eagerly, “You think you can catch him?”
“Mother, dear, I have a splendid plan,” Charlotte replied, her tone oozing with evil intentions. “I will happen to encounter him when he enters the inn. I will insist he join us. He cannot refuse to pay his proper respects to my beloved mother. When I bring Lord Weston here, you must rush past us, claiming that you are ill, and leave the room. I will keep the marquess in here long enough to be fully compromised.” She laughed wickedly. “He will be honor bound to marry me, and I will be very rich!”
That was the point at which Grace knew she must do something. She knew it was none of her affair, yet she would not wish such a thing forced upon an innocent person. She was appalled at the way Charlotte and her mother had spoken to one another. That they would contrive to trap a man into marriage went beyond her comprehension or experience. A husband at any price? Grace did not remember Society to be so avaricious in her own Season. She knew she and Lydia would never fit in with London’s ton if deception and plotting was the way of life there.
Lydia was so looking forward to her Season, the purpose behind the girl’s first trip to London, but Grace had visited the city many times and had always felt the people to be cold and calculating. She regretted having to leave her country home, even for a short while. She also worried that Lydia’s innocent and kind heart would be hurt by the cruel ton.
The best way to protect her precious sister would be to lead by example, through helping others in need whenever possible.
Grace would start now.
“Darling Lydia, I cannot stand by and allow such a malevolent act.” She walked out of their parlor, intent on saving this man from his conniving assailants. She knew she would appear forward to address a stranger, but that was a small price to pay if she could warn him of their intentions.
Grace need not have feared identifying the marquess; there was only one man and he was with the landlord. He was large, with the blackest hair, and he was obviously a Corinthian—as men of fashion were often called—based on the number of capes on his driving coat. With a short prayer, she walked up behind him.
“Sir?” she asked, summoning her most charming smile. “When you are finished making arrangements with Mr. Dobbins, may I speak to you a moment?”
As the most handsome man she had ever seen turned to her with a question in his dark eyes, she held out her hand, and indicated a small table centered in front of the benches beside the entryway.
The gentleman raised a brow and asked, “I beg your pardon?”
He began smiling lazily down at her, waiting for her to explain herself. But those eyes were awake upon every suit, despite his smile.
“Will you not sit, my lord?”
“I prefer to stand, I thank you.” He looked at her askance. “But I should like to know how you know me.” He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I admit I am quite at a loss as to know how I might be of help to you.”
“No, sir,” she said, almost in a whisper. “It is I who wish to help you.” As he laughed out loud, Grace began to seriously regret not listening to Lydia’s pleas.
* * *
Brandon Roth, Lord Weston, had no idea what was afoot, but he was enjoying himself immensely. When the tedium of the journey to London had initiated the stop at this inn, little had he known what awaited him. The woman before him was behaving in a peculiar fashion, to say the least, but he sensed no malice from her. He could not help but be intrigued by her plea for a private conference. They were in full public view, so he felt relatively safe from the traps normally set for him. Yet he remained wary.
“My lord,” she said, “I have overheard a plot to compromise you into marriage, and I wished to put you on your guard.”
He had not known what to expect, but he would have never guessed this! She appeared to be telling the truth, and he wondered at such innocence in one certainly out of her girlhood. “You overheard?”
“Yes. You see, my sister and I were taking tea in that parlor there, and the women in the room next to ours were talking quite loudly.”
“Ahh, an eavesdropper, are you?”
“Of course I am not...” She put her hands on her hips, frustrated. “You are making sport of me when I am trying very hard to be of help.” Her voice had a low timbre. He would not go so far as to say sultry, but it was soothing, even in the exasperation he caused her.
Brandon did his best to avoid laughing. He wondered whether she was coming from or going to London. Already he hoped the latter and that their paths would cross again in Town; though he supposed even she would lose her charm eventually.
“Very well, madam. Why don’t you finish your tale and we may proceed from there.”
She tried to explain to him about the conversation she and her sister had overheard, and she finished with, “I thought if I could get word to you before she appeared, you would be able to handle the matter in whatever manner you wished.”
