The Viscount's Scandalous Return. ANNE ASHLEY

       ‘Something appears to be troubling you, Miss Mortimer. I trust you are not concerned about being in here alone with me?

      ‘You are in no danger, I assure you,’ he continued. ‘And if, for any reason, I should experience an overwhelming desire to lay violent hands upon you, I’m sure your trusty hound would come to your rescue.’

      ‘Ha! I’m not so very sure he would!’ Isabel returned, quite without rancour. She was more amazed than anything else that Beau had taken such an instant liking to someone. Which just went to substantiate her belief that his lordship was not the black-hearted demon he had sometimes been painted.

      ‘So, what were you thinking about a few minutes ago that brought such a troubled expression to your face?’

      Lord! Isabel mused. Was he always so observant? Had she not witnessed it with her own eyes she would never have supposed for a moment that those icy-blue orbs could dance with wicked amusement. He really was a most attractive and engaging gentleman when he chose to be. And she didn’t doubt for a second a damnably dangerous one, to boot, to any female weak enough not to resist his charm! Was she mad even to consider remaining with him a moment longer?

      About the Author

      ANNE ASHLEY was born and educated in Leicester. She lived for a time in Scotland, but now makes her home in the West Country, with two cats, her two sons, and a husband who has a wonderful and very necessary sense of humour. When not pounding away at the keys of her computer, she likes to relax in her garden, which she has opened to the public on more than one occasion in aid of the village church funds.

       Previous novels by the same author:

      A NOBLE MAN*

      LORD EXMOUTH’S INTENTIONS*

      THE RELUCTANT MARCHIONESS

      TAVERN WENCH

      BELOVED VIRAGO

      LORD HAWKRIDGE’S SECRET

      BETRAYED AND BETROTHED

      A LADY OF RARE QUALITY

      LADY GWENDOLEN INVESTIGATES

      THE TRANSFORMATION OF

      MISS ASHWORTH MISS IN A MAN’S WORLD

      * part of the Regency mini-series

       The Steepwood Scandal

       Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

       The Viscount’s Scandalous Return

       Anne Ashley

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Chapter One

       September 1814

      Miss Isabel Mortimer’s return to her farmhouse-style home coincided with the long-case clock’s chiming the hour of eleven. She had been out and about since first light, and so might reasonably have expected a more enthusiastic welcome than the decidedly reproachful glance her ever-loyal housekeeper-cum-confidante cast her.

      ‘Oh, Lord, miss!’ Bessie exclaimed, as she watched her young mistress deposit the gun and the fruits of her labours down upon the kitchen table. ‘You’ve never been a’wandering over Blackwood land again? I’ve warned you time and again that there steward up at the Manor will have you placed afore the magistrate, given half a chance. Heard tell he weren’t best pleased back along, when them there high-and-mighty legal folk came up from Lunnon, asking questions about the night of the murders, and he discovered it were you had stirred things up again after all these years.’

      ‘No, I don’t suppose he was pleased.’ Not appearing in the least concerned, Isabel collected a sharp knife from a drawer and then promptly set herself the task of preparing the rabbits for the stew-pot. ‘What’s more, young Toby told me, this very morn as it happens, there’s been no sign of Master Guy Fensham these past two weeks. Which I find most revealing in the circumstances. After all, what had he to fear if he told the truth about the happenings on that terrible night?’

      ‘Well, that’s just it, miss. He couldn’t have done, now could he, if what the old master set down on paper be true? And I would far rather believe the old master, ‘cause there were nought wrong with him at the time of writing.’

      ‘Well, I, for one, never doubted the truth of Papa’s version of events. As you quite rightly pointed out, he wrote his account before he suffered that first seizure.’

      Whenever Isabel thought of her late father she experienced, still, an acute sense of loss, even now, after almost two years. They had always been wondrous close; more so after he had become infirm and had come to rely upon her for so much. Yet nothing in her expression betrayed the fact that she had nowhere near fully recovered from his death. If anything, she seemed quite matter-of-fact as she said,

      ‘So you’ve no need to fear I shall fall foul of Fensham, especially as I didn’t take one step on Blackwood land. I’ve been in the top meadow, as it happens. Besides …’ she shrugged, emphasising her complete unconcern ‘… what would it matter if I had been trespassing? If and when his lordship does return, I shall make it perfectly plain that he owes me a deal more than the few fish I’ve removed from his trout stream for all the damage his overgrown ditch has done to my vegetable garden during his long absence. Why his father ever employed such a lazy ne’er-do-well as Guy Fensham as steward up at the Manor, I shall never know!’

      Thoughtfully drying her hands on her apron, Bessie joined her young mistress at the table. ‘Well, miss, no matter what folks may say about the old Viscount—and you’ll find plenty hereabouts who never liked him—you’ll never hear anyone say he neglected either the land or the Manor. When the old Lord Blackwood were alive the steward did his work, and toed the line.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘Now look at the place! It’s a year and more since you went to Lunnon to seek out Mr Bathurst,’ she reminded her mistress. ‘And never a word since!’

      ‘Now, that isn’t strictly true,’ Isabel corrected, striving to be fair. ‘We’ve never been precisely kept abreast of developments, I’ll agree. Even so, Mr Bathurst did take the trouble to send that one letter, confirming he’d set the wheels in motion, as it were, and thanking me once again for the trouble I’d taken in seeking him out personally in order to pass on Papa’s written account. And he fully reimbursed me for all the expense of travelling to London and remaining there for those few days. He was most generous, in fact!’

      Isabel cast a long, considering look at the large dresser that almost covered the entire wall opposite. ‘How very fortunate it was that so many hereabouts recalled that it had been none other than Mr Bathurst himself who had sold this very property to my father, and had gone to London to study law. Fortunate, too, that so many remembered he and the Honourable Sebastian Blackwood had been upon the very best of terms in their youth. He was the ideal person for me to seek out and pass on what Papa had revealed about the Viscount’s younger son.

      ‘And you must remember,’ Isabel continued, after a further few moments’ consideration, ‘Mr Bathurst was in something of a precarious position. Just how much of a hand he had in effecting his friend’s escape from the authorities, after Sebastian Blackwood had been accused of murdering both his father and brother all those years ago, I can only speculate. All the same, for some considerable time Mr Bathurst has been a well-respected barrister, a veritable