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‘Lucas, you are no villain. You believed you were doing what was right.’
‘How can you say that?’ He shrugged her off. ‘How can you defend me?’
‘Because if you were truly wicked you would not feel like this.’ Her hand touched him again, this time on his cheek.
He opened his eyes. Annabelle was kneeling beside him, her face just inches below his own, and there were tears in her eyes. He shook his head.
‘No. I am my father’s son—’
‘You are your own man, Lucas.’
She cupped his face, gently pulled him down to her and kissed him. It was balm to his wounded spirit and he responded, holding her against his heart, allowing himself to forget everything except the relief, the joy of having her in his arms.
AUTHOR NOTE
‘Feisty’ is a word that is often applied to heroines these days. A quick look at the online dictionary gives us these two definitions: (a) having or showing exuberance and strong determination, and (b) being touchy and aggressive.
I wanted my heroine to be neither of the above. I envisaged Annabelle as a very ordinary lady, well brought up by a loving father, and with a sweet, caring nature that makes her a favourite with everyone. The danger is that such a heroine might well be (oh, heavens, dare I say it?) a little boring.
However, we all know that adversity can bring out unexpected traits in people, and Annabelle is challenged by a great deal of adversity when she meets Lucas. He is an ex-soldier who for the past fifteen years has thought of nothing but revenge upon the man he thinks has wronged him. He sees Annabelle as a weapon he can use against her father, but he soon discovers that she has a core of steel beneath that soft exterior.
This whole story came about because of two places I pass regularly. One is a turning called Burnt Acres Lane and the second is a ruined ancient house. At one time it was a substantial manor house, but has been abandoned and partially burned down, so that now only the stone walls and a few roof timbers remain. Whenever I pass this sad old ruin I long to rebuild it, but since that is not possible for me I have done the next best thing and turned it into a story! So was born Morwood Manor, a house struck by tragedy—but, hopefully, if my hero and heroine can overcome their differences, Morwood can once more become a lovely family home.
Happy reading!
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 from singletitles.com for Dance for a Diamond and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice for Gentlemen in Question. Sarah Mallory has also twice won the Romantic Novelists’ Association RONA Rose Award for The Dangerous Lord Darrington and Beneath the Major’s Scars.
Previous 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
DISGRACE AND DESIRE
TO CATCH A HUSBAND…
SNOWBOUND WITH THE NOTORIOUS RAKE
(part of An Improper Regency Christmas)
THE DANGEROUS LORD DARRINGTON
BENEATH THE MAJOR’S SCARS*
BEHIND THE RAKE’S WICKED WAGER*
*The Notorious Coale Brothers
And in M&B:
THE ILLEGITIMATE MONTAGUE
(part of Castonbury Park Regency mini-series)
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Bought for Revenge
Sarah Mallory
MILLS & BOON
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To TGH
Chapter One
‘The terms are very favourable, Mr Havenham. Messrs Powell & Son say their client is willing to pay the full asking price for Morwood and is ready to settle immediately.’
Annabelle looked hopefully towards her father to see how he would take this news.
‘And what is this client’s name, Mr Telford?’ she asked. ‘Do we know him?’
The lawyer adjusted his spectacles and studied the paper in his hand. ‘A Mr Monserrat. Not a local man, I think.’
Mr Havenham sighed, the gold tassel on his cap dancing merrily as he shook his head.
‘No one in Stanton has any money to spare. What with the war, and then last year’s poor crops, it is a bad time for everyone.’
‘Waterloo was more than a year ago, Papa,’ said Annabelle. ‘And I know last summer was particularly bad, but the worst of the winter weather is over now and that always makes me feel hopeful. With a little economy, and the new mortgage Mr Telford raised for us on Oakenroyd, we shall come about.’
‘Exactly,’ agreed the lawyer. ‘And the money from the sale of Morwood will pay off most of your creditors.’
‘But not the gambling debts,’ said Samuel. ‘I should never have gone to Harrogate.’ The regret in her father’s voice made her heart ache, but Annabelle said nothing. Her father had gone to the spa town to take the waters, leaving her to run Oakenroyd, and he had returned with his health no better and his purse several thousand pounds lighter after being persuaded to enter the card room of the Dragon Hotel for several nights running.
Mr Telford shifted uncomfortably and sifted through