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Regency Christmas Proposals: Christmas at Mulberry Hall / The Soldier's Christmas Miracle / Snowbound and Seduced
Amanda McCabe
Gayle Wilson
Carole Mortimer
Christmas at Mulberry Hall Spending Christmas alone with his unconventional ward pushes the boundaries of propriety – and self-control – too far for Lord Gideon Grayson. So he takes delectably pure Amelia Ashford to Mulberry Hall – but that pesky mistletoe is still all around…The Soldier’s Christmas Miracle Wounded soldier Guy Wakefield has finally found the woman who saved his life. Isabella Stowe accepts his gratitude, but it will take more than a Christmas kiss to convince this world-weary widow to accept his proposal…Snowbound and SeducedMary Bassington, Lady Derrington, longs to be the carefree woman she once was. But she gets more than she bargained for this Christmas when she’s snowbound with old flame Dominick, Viscount Amesby, who reignites her passion for life – and love!
Regency
Christmas Proposals
Christmas at Mulberry Hall
Carole Mortimer
The Soldier’s Christmas Miracle
Gayle Wilson
Snowbound and Seduced
Amanda McCabe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Acclaim for the authors of REGENCY CHRISTMAS PROPOSALS
CAROLE MORTIMER
Lady Arabella’s Scandalous Marriage
“Mortimer excels at producing strong, independent heroines, and Arabella, the pampered youngest sister of three older brothers, fits the bill when she comes up against London’s most notorious rake.”
—RT Book Reviews
Snowbound with the Billionaire
“Carole Mortimer’s intensely passionate romances …have been enchanting and enthralling readers for more than thirty years. [This] novella …is an excellent example of this international bestselling author’s storytelling prowess!”
—Cataromance
GAYLE WILSON
Anne’s Perfect Husband
“This high-action plot careens along the edge between traditional
Regency and gritty, intense historical. This innovative mix carries themes on the healing powers of love and survival.”
—RT Book Reviews
The Heart’s Wager
“Gayle Wilson has achieved an uncommon, and uncommonly successful, hybrid of Regency, action-adventure and romance that makes for non-stop entertainment.”
—RT Book Reviews
AMANDA McCABE
High Seas Stowaway
“Amanda McCabe has gifted us twice over—nothing is better than hearing about friends from other stories. High Seas Stowaway is a fast-paced, exciting novel. Amanda McCabe has done it again—a wonderful tale!”
—Cataromance
A Sinful Alliance
“Scandal, seduction, spies, counter-spies, murder, love and loyalty are skilfully woven into the tapestry of the Tudor court. Richly detailed and brimming with historical events and personages, McCabe’s tale weaves together history and passion perfectly.”
—RT Book Reviews
About the Authors
USA TODAY international bestselling author CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Carole has six sons: Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, “I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.”
GAYLE WILSON is a two-time RITA
Award winner. In addition to this, Gayle’s books have garnered more than fifty other awards and nominations, including the Daphne du Maurier Award for the Best Single Title Romantic Suspense of 2008, awarded to Victim, her most recent novel from MIRA Books.
Gayle has written forty-one novels and four novellas for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Please visit her website at www.BooksByGayleWilson.com.
AMANDA MCCABE wrote her first romance at the age of sixteen—a vast epic, starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class. She’s never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA
, Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Booksellers Best, the National Readers’ Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with a menagerie of animals and loves dance classes, collecting cheesy travel souvenirs, and watching the Food Network—even though she doesn’t cook. Visit her at http://ammandamccabe.tripod.com and http://www.riskyregencies.blogspot.com
Christmas at Mulberry Hall
Carole Mortimer
Dear Reader,
Christmas is always a magical time of year for me, a time for family and friends, and writing a Christmas story set in Regency England was especially enjoyable. I could almost feel the coldness of the snow and smell the mistletoe and holly!
I have given Lord Gideon Grayson—Gray, a minor character in several books in the THE NOTORIOUS ST CLAIRES quartet—his own story, as he meets and falls in love with the woman destined only for him. You will also have a chance to catch a glimpse of the St Claire family as Gray and the woman he loves join the family at ducal Mulberry Hall for the Christmas holiday.
I hope you enjoy reading Gray’s story as much as I enjoyed writing about him!
A happy and peaceful Christmas to you all,
Carole
To all those readers who have come along with me on this wonderful journey as the members of the St Claire family and their friends find true love and happiness.
This one is for YOU.
Chapter One
December, 1817. Steadley Manor, Bedfordshire.
‘As I am holding a pistol, sir, and it is pointed directly at your heart, I advise you to stop exactly where you are! ‘
Gray stopped. But not because he was in the least daunted by the threat of having a pistol pointed at him. The cavernous entrance hall in which he was standing was in darkness, and the ghostly white figure at the top of the wide staircase was shadowy at best. Ergo, if Gray could not see the woman with any degree of clarity—a youngish woman by the youthful sound of her voice—then he very much doubted she could see him, either—let alone have a pistol pointed directly at his heart, as she claimed so dramatically. Which was not to say the chit was not in possession of a pistol, only that her aim, if she should choose to pull the trigger, would be far from accurate.
Having spent all day in his curricle, travelling from London to Steadley Manor, his estate in Bedfordshire—something he had realised, as it had begun snowing several hours ago, had not been the wisest of decisions for mid-December!—night had completely drawn in by the time Gray finally arrived. He had been less than pleased at being unable to find either groom or stableboy to attend to his weary horses. Nor, having seen to the stabling of his horses himself, a butler or footman to greet him once he had ascended the dozen steps up to the oak door fronting the house. Neither had he found candle and tinder on the table just inside that door once he had let himself in, leaving him no choice but to try to find his way in the semi-darkness.
Travelling to his estate in Bedfordshire had been something that Gray had been avoiding since he had come into its inheritance on the death of his older brother Perry some two and a half years ago, but to now arrive and find himself held at pistol-point—an event far too reminiscent of one that had occurred several weeks earlier, and in which a man had died—was beyond irritating. It was infuriating!
Too infuriating, after such a long and unpleasant day of travelling, to be borne a moment longer!
‘I told you to stop, sir!’ Amelia warned desperately, as after the briefest of pauses the man below began to stride purposefully—ominously!—across the hallway and began ascending the staircase towards her. ‘I will be forced to shoot you if you do not stop, sir.’ Her voice rose as the man did not so much as hesitate but continued to take the stairs two at a time. Each step bringing him ever closer to where Amelia stood at the top of that wide staircase.
White teeth gleamed up at her in the darkness in a parody of a grin. ‘A word of advice, sweeting—never threaten a man with a loaded pistol unless you fully intend to pull the trigger!’
This man was actually mocking her!
He had broken into the house, no doubt with robbery or worse in mind, and now he had the unmitigated gall to laugh at Amelia’s efforts to defend herself.
Amelia had come to live at Steadley Manor some three years ago, on the marriage of her mother to Lord Perry Grayson. Only to have her mother die only months after the marriage, followed several months later by the death of her stepfather. Their deaths had left Amelia to the guardianship of her stepfather’s younger brother, Lord Gideon Grayson. A man who had not troubled himself to visit her once during the past two and a half years. Being left to live here alone, apart from a paid companion, had been unbearable, but to now find herself the source of amusement for a burglar was intolerable!
Too much so for Amelia to allow that amusement to go unpunished …
Her heart thundered in her chest as her back stiffened with both indignation and purpose. Eyes narrowing, she straightened her arms out in front of her, her hands tightly gripping the pistol as she carefully aimed and fired.
‘Why, you little—!’
Strong fingers reached out to wrest the smoking gun from Amelia’s hands. At the same time she was knocked off balance by the recoil of the pistol and deafened by the force of the blast as it reverberated around the cavernous entrance hall. She landed on her bottom. Painfully. Humiliatingly. She looked up to find the man looming over her in the darkness, giving all the appearance of an avenging angel, the pistol now held securely in his much larger hands.
Amelia was sure a weaker woman might have fainted. That even a strong woman, such as she considered herself to be, might have done so in an effort to escape the obvious wrath of the man who now towered over her so threateningly. Amelia was made of sterner stuff, however, and as such she had no intention of showing any sign of weakness to the man who had broken into the house in the middle of the night.
‘It will do you no good to point that pistol at me, sir, when it has already been fired,’ she told him with satisfaction, and she gathered herself up to stand unsteadily upon her slippered feet.
Gray wasn’t sure whether to beat this woman for her recklessness in accosting a man she obviously believed to be a burglar, or to remonstrate with her for her impudence. After brief consideration, he decided to do neither of those things …
His eyesight had now adjusted to the gloomy, moonlit hallway, allowing him to see that the woman now facing him, with all the courage of an indignant bantam hen, in reality barely reached the height of his broad shoulders. She was in possession of an abundance of what looked to be either gold or silver-coloured hair, framing a small and pale heart-shaped face before it fell in soft curls down the length of her spine to what, if Gray was not mistaken, was a very shapely little bottom.
Although he could not actually see the colour of her eyes, the challenging glitter in them as she continued to glare up at him was unmistakable. A challenge that no red-blooded man—even one who had been travelling for most of the day—could have withstood!
‘I—What are you doing, sir?’ The little hellion’s tone was slightly panicked as Gray dropped the empty pistol on the table beside them before pulling her effortlessly into his arms.
He grinned down at her wolfishly as he held her easily. ‘I would have thought my intent was obvious, madam!’
It was more than obvious, Amelia acknowledged as her slender and virtually naked body was pressed—moulded—against a much harder one. And she realised that her sense of outrage was edged with trembling excitement …!
The man who held her so tightly was incredibly tall. With a lean and muscled body that Amelia defied any woman—even one who had been scared half out of her wits only minutes ago—not to be completely aware of. He smelt of a light cologne and horse leather. Not the unpleasant smell it should have been, either, but somehow terribly male. Nerve-tinglingly so!
‘Release me at once, sir!’ Amelia was aware, as must this man be, that her protest was completely lacking in conviction.
Gray looked down at her mockingly. ‘I would, sweet—if I thought you really meant it!’
Her eyes stared up at him angrily as the woman struggled in his embrace. ‘But of course I mean it!’
He gave a slow shake of his head as the woman’s squirms only succeeded in pressing those lush and tender curves even more intimately against his own. ‘I think not.’
‘You are impertinent, sir!’
Gray found he had fixed his gaze upon her full and delicious lips rather than actually listening to what those lips were saying, and his arms were unyielding about the woman’s waist as he moulded her soft body into his own. One of his hands moved lower still to curve about the full roundness of her bottom as Gray pulled her into the hard throb of his arousal, the grinding of his thighs against hers easing a little of his hunger.
Amelia was filled with a strange, heady delight as she felt the hard press of this man against her; her breasts tingled, and her whole body was filled with a hot and burning ache …a yearning she had never known before.
A yearning that made her question her own sanity!
This man had broken into the house in the middle of the night. Had mocked her attempt to shoot him before holding her against him in this intimate manner. It was madness on Amelia’s part—sheer madness—to even consider allowing him further liberties. To allow herself to enjoy being held in his arms …!
Amelia glared up at him as she pushed against the hardness of his chest, and was able to distance herself, to feel the chill of the air against her heated body, as his arms fell back to his sides and he stepped lightly away from her. ‘I advise you to leave now, sir!’
‘You do?’
‘I do!’ Amelia took exception to the hard mockery she detected in his tone. ‘Before my—my husband appears and decides to beat you within an inch of your life!’
The man’s gaze became hooded. ‘Your husband, madam?’
Amelia, having impulsively made the claim, now felt slightly flustered. In her determination to best this man she had decided that a husband sounded much more threatening than a guardian—especially as her guardian was very much absent! So absent, in fact, that Amelia had never so much as set eyes upon Lord Gideon Grayson! Even so, her claim of being married might have been a little rash on her part.
Her chin rose challengingly. ‘You have broken into this house with the intention, no doubt, of stealing anything of value, you have—have taken liberties with me, and you are not even aware of whose house it is you have broken into!’ she accused impatiently.
This young woman looked magnificent in her anger, Gray acknowledged ruefully. Her eyes were glittering, her cheeks flushed from those ‘liberties’ he had taken.
A pity, then, that she was also a liar …!
Gray’s mouth tightened. ‘Is it necessary that I should know a man’s name in order to rob him?’
‘I would have thought it would have been something that interested you, yes!’
Gray shrugged. ‘Then perhaps you would care to enlighten me, sweeting?’
‘I am not your sweeting,’ the haughty little miss informed him agitatedly. ‘And Steadley Manor is owned by Lord Gideon Grayson, of course.’
A fact that Gray—the Lord Gideon Grayson in question—was all too aware of. As he was also aware that he did not possess a wife! ‘The man to whom you claim you are married …?’
