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Her Convenient Husband's Return
Eleanor Webster
Her convenient husband is back!And everything has changed…After Beth married her childhood friend to escape from debt, he swiftly returned to his life in London. But now Ren’s back, as Lord of the Estate, and Beth’s heart pounds whenever he is near! She’s wary of his expectations of her to produce an heir, for fear of passing on her blindness. But Ren’s hidden sensitivity is a surprise—could their arrangement become something much more passionate?
A scoundrel of the ton...
Her knight in shining armor?
Katherine Wilder will do anything to escape her forced marriage, even ask Brandt Radcliffe to kidnap her! Only she doesn’t expect a man so disreputable to say no! With her father now desperate to marry her off to line his own pockets, widower Brandt has become her reluctant protector—and it seems the only way he can do that is to marry her himself...!
“A perfect pleasant Regency.”
—RT Book Reviews on Married for His Convenience
“Witty, well-researched and emotionally gripping.”
—Goodreads on No Conventional Miss
ELEANOR WEBSTER loves high heels and sun—which is ironic, as she lives in northern Canada, the land of snow hills and unflattering footwear. Various crafting experiences—including a nasty glue gun episode—have proved that her creative soul is best expressed through the written word. Eleanor has a Masters Degree in Education and is a school psychologist. She also holds an undergraduate degree in history, and loves to use her writing to explore her fascination with the past.
Also by Eleanor Webster (#u5f252952-154a-55bd-a0d3-0e561d1f748d)
No Conventional Miss
Married for His Convenience
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Her Convenient Husband’s Return
Eleanor Webster
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07396-7
HER CONVENIENT HUSBAND’S RETURN
© 2018 Eleanor Webster
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.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To all those who choose to follow their hearts and
refuse to be limited by society’s norms, their own fears
or physical and emotional challenges.
To my husband, who encouraged me
when the struggle to get published overwhelmed.
To my father-in-law, for his ongoing interest
and his insistence that the villain receives
suitable retribution for heinous crimes committed.
To my father, who inspires with his love of life
and his continued joy and interest in the world—
not to mention a daily diary spanning 78 years!
Contents
Cover (#ufac358e0-701c-5c48-b007-18470c0f1066)
Back Cover Text (#u71aa4e3d-ca27-50e7-9d13-1912c7701b55)
About the Author (#u5b50520c-111d-574b-8456-c1a2a00c441a)
Booklist (#u8c93b7b0-0bd9-597b-9f64-94464f9bb589)
Title Page (#u4eb612c0-9501-5cb2-b2b8-de4e39de460c)
Copyright (#u16a72c77-fe88-5cb7-a7ea-428cc1f72c0e)
Dedication (#u022f9bf6-113b-53a5-8592-18b40d5b69ab)
Prologue (#u1c0ae883-f315-5463-9a86-957180e32883)
Chapter One (#u26b314db-c5a7-587c-b85b-d7db2cb3e603)
Chapter Two (#u71c23411-3e35-5765-9127-15d347af5422)
Chapter Three (#uf34bade9-82ad-557d-8acd-113cc32dd5fa)
Chapter Four (#u3cf53cf4-9b5c-5622-b95d-356a663d97ec)
Chapter Five (#ubb6fc777-7c35-5baf-b6c7-1af94927bb87)
Chapter Six (#u47101761-e6fb-5813-8178-135b12be3c13)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u5f252952-154a-55bd-a0d3-0e561d1f748d)
Her fingers touched the pins which impaled each fragile butterfly. She felt the cold hardness, contrasting with the spread-eagled insect wings, delicate as gossamer.
The air smelled of dust, laden with a cloying sweetness. Despite her lack of sight, Beth could feel the Duke’s gaze on her. Goose pimples prickled on her neck and she shivered even though the chamber was warm from the crackling fire.
‘Ren?’ she called.
‘Your friend is in the other room, looking at the tiger I shot. An artistic boy, it would seem?’
He stepped closer. ‘So, do you like the butterflies?’
She could smell his breath, a mix of alcohol, tobacco and that odd sweetness.
‘I find them sad.’
‘That is because you cannot see,’ the Duke said. ‘If you could see, you would admire their beauty. I pin them when they are still alive. The colour of their wings stays so much brighter, I find.’
She swallowed. Her throat felt dry. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as if swollen, making words difficult to form.
‘You are yourself very beautiful,’ he said. ‘An unusual beauty, a perfection that is so seldom seen in nature. Your face, your features have a perfect symmetry. That is why I like the butterflies.’
She withdrew her hands from the display case, shifting abruptly and instinctively away. Stumbling, she felt a sharp corner strike her thigh.
‘Do be careful.’ The Duke’s hand touched her arm.
She felt the pressure of his fingers and the smell of his breath. She pulled her arms back, hugging them tight to her body.
‘Ren!’ she called again.
‘The walls are very thick here. It is nice to know that one’s residence is well built, don’t you think?’
She felt her breath quicken as sweat dampened her palms.
‘Beth?’
Relief bubbled up in a weird mix of euphoria and panic as she heard Ren’s familiar step.
‘That stuffed tiger is fantastic,’ he said. ‘I’d love to see one alive. Did you want to feel it?’ He paused. She heard him step to her. ‘Beth, are you sick?’
She nodded and he grasped her hand, his touch warm and familiar.
‘I—would—like—to—go—home.’ She forced the words out in a staccato rhythm, each syllable punctuated with a harsh gasp.
‘Do return, any time you would like,’ the Duke said.
She held tight to Ren’s hand as they exited the room and stepped down the stairs. They said nothing as they traversed the drive and then took the shortcut through the woods and back to the familiarity of Graham Hill.
It was only as they sat in their favourite spot, leaning against the oak’s stout trunk with her hands touching the damp velvet moss, that her breathing slowed.
‘Don’t let’s go there again,’ she said. ‘Ever.’
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing.’ This was true and yet she had felt more fearful than she ever had before. More fearful than the time she had fallen off the fence into the bull’s paddock. Or when she had got lost in the woods. Or when her horse had got spooked.
‘He looks at you strangely.’
‘Yes, I feel it.’
‘We won’t go back,’ Ren agreed. ‘I thought he would have more animals. One tiger isn’t much.’
‘And butterflies.’
