Authors: Donna MacMeans

Redeeming the Rogue (47 page)

It had been Ashton’s experience that most women managed to recognize him immediately. Or, if an attractive, engaging woman had only recently arrived in London, he generally knew someone who could intercede with an introduction. This meeting of strange women was problematic.

“Ask her to carry a rose,” the clerk said suddenly. “There’s a florist near the Crescent. Acquiring the flower would not be difficult.”

“A rose . . .” It was a romantic notion worthy of one of those Austen books. He could place a bud in the buttonhole of his lapel. A woman with a single rose should be easy to spot. “That’s an excellent idea.”

Delight spread across the clerk’s face, again transforming her into a much younger woman. Obviously she hadn’t experienced an easy life or she would not be employed in a newspaper office. Ashton briefly wondered if his own face carried the travails of his years in Burma. His aching leg certainly did.

“Thank you,” he said, sweeping the last of the letters from the counter. He secured some in his inside pocket before stuffing others in his coat pocket. “You’ve been most helpful.”

All should be fine as long as Caroline did not discover the letters. He’d planned to meet with her and young Matthew in Regent’s Park after this stop at the
Messenger
. While two letters would have been easy to conceal, twenty or so might catch her attention. With her sharp tongue, she’d eviscerate any kind woman daring enough to respond to an ad. Caroline knew a thing or two about “daring.”

Ashton removed a few shillings from his pocket and placed them on the counter. “For your assistance.”

Color bloomed in the clerk’s cheeks, but as he turned, he heard the scraping of metal across wood. As he suspected, times could be difficult. He left the office, leaning more heavily on his walking stick. A change of weather must be in the air.

The prickling at his nape resumed even as he left the newspaper office. Pausing a moment, he searched for the unseen assailant. He’d foolishly thought he’d left combat behind when he departed the Royal Rifles with a bullet wound in his thigh. Instead he’d returned to a household riddled with conflict. He hadn’t sorted out all the issues as yet. No one really spoke except young Matthew, and his governess hushed him at every opportunity. One didn’t need words to sense the powder keg of tension, or the feeling that somehow he might be the match to ignite it all.

Scanning the street, he noted nothing out of the ordinary, except a lovely young woman with hair the color of sunlight standing next to a bicycle. She angled binoculars toward a copse of trees. What on earth was she studying there—pigeons? It was not as if the grays of London were disturbed with colorful birds like those of Burma. A smile tipped his lips with the memory. Some of Burma’s heat would be appreciated on this cool spring day as well. London may not have been the best choice for his recuperation, but at the time, he had thought it was the easiest. He’d been mistaken there as well.

He glanced back at the girl. Surely a comely bird enthusiast posed no threat, especially one that should be the object of study rather than some feathered creature likely to end up on someone’s dinner plate. He couldn’t imagine danger coming from that quarter. No, the warning must be something else. Something not visible, not yet.

He patted his pocket, feeling the neat packet of envelopes tucked there, then climbed into his waiting carriage. Caroline and her son were waiting. He’d promised Matthew he’d show him the tigers, at least the ones behind bars. If nothing else, Matthew had certainly been a delight in Ashton’s homecoming. Perhaps as the boy matured, Ashton would be able to teach him how to spot the predatory tigers who didn’t wear stripes to warn of their ferocity. Tigers that hid behind serene human faces but had the ability to carve one’s heart with a single swipe. Tigers like Matthew’s mother.

FROM THE USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF
Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage

JENNIFER ASHLEY

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie

Most women heeded the warnings.
One woman was tempted by them ...

It was whispered all through London Society that Ian Mackenzie was mad, that he’d spent his youth in an asylum, and that he was not to be trusted—especially with a lady. For the reputation of any woman caught in his presence was instantly ruined.

Yet Beth found herself inexorably drawn to the Scottish lord, whose hint of a brogue wrapped around her like silk and whose touch could draw her into a world of ecstasy. Despite his decadence and his intimidating intelligence, she could see that he needed help. Her help. Because suddenly the only thing that made sense to her was . . .

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie

“Big, arrogant, sexy highlanders—Jennifer Ashley writes the kind of heroes I crave!”

—Elizabeth Hoyt,
New York Times bestselling author

“A deliciously dark and delectably sexy story of love and romantic redemption.”

—Booklist

penguin.com

M847T0311

From
New York Times
bestselling author of Sinful in Satin

MADELINE HUNTER

Dangerous in Diamonds

Outrageously wealthy, the Duke of Castleford has little incentive to curb his profligate ways—gaming and whoring with equal abandon and enjoying his hedonistic lifestyle to the fullest. When a behest adds a small property to his vast holdings, one that houses a modest flower business known as The Rarest Blooms, Castleford sees little to interest him . . . until he lays eyes on its owner. Daphne Joyes is coolly mysterious, exquisitely beautiful, and utterly scathing toward a man of Castleford’s stamp—in short, an object worthy of his most calculated seduction.

Daphne has no reason to entertain Castleford’s outrageous advances, and every reason to keep him as far away as possible from her eclectic household. Not only has she been sheltering young ladies who have been victims of misfortune, but she has her own closely guarded secrets. Then Daphne makes a discovery that changes everything. She and Castleford have one thing in common: a profound hatred for the Duke of Becksbridge, who just happens to be Castleford’s relative.

Never before were two people less likely to form an alliance—or to fall in love . . .