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She can trust him to keep her safe...

But can she trust herself?

Widow Dawn Fenton has heard rumors that her old sweetheart Jack Valance is back in town—and he’s no longer penniless, but a wealthy viscount! She’ll avoid him at all costs, especially as he’s honor bound to wed another. But as Jack steps in to help her protect a vulnerable child in her family, Dawn must face up to the truth: she wants him to stay!

MARY BRENDAN was born in North London, but now lives in rural Suffolk. She has always had a fascination with bygone days, and enjoys the research involved in writing historical fiction. When not at her computer she can be found trying to bring order to her large overgrown garden, or browsing local fairs and junk shops for that elusive bargain.

Also by Mary Brendan

Tarnished, Tempted and Tamed

Compromising the Duke’s Daughter

Rescued by the Forbidden Rake

Tempted by the Roguish Lord

Regency Rogues miniseries

Chivalrous Rake, Scandalous Lady

Dangerous Lord, Seductive Miss

Society Scandals miniseries

A Date with Dishonour

The Rake’s Ruined Lady

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Reunited with Her Viscount Protector

Mary Brendan


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08933-3

REUNITED WITH HER VISCOUNT PROTECTOR

© 2019 Mary Brendan

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 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

Version: 2020-03-02

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Note to Readers

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

‘You little scamp! Come back here!’

Mrs Fenton picked up her lavender skirts and chased the shrieking child on to the pathway. She soon caught up with him and hoisted him off his feet in a cuddle. ‘You are far too nimble for me. You win again, Master Bernard.’ She placed a kiss on his soft cheek.

‘Oh, stop it, Bernie. You will tire poor Auntie Dawn out and she won’t come again to play with you,’ the Countess of Houndsmere said, issuing a warning to her giggling son.

‘Of course I will come. I love our games, don’t I, Bernie?’ Dawn put the wriggling child back on to the flagstones.

After his game of chase, Master Bernard still had plenty of energy; his godmother, however, was holding the stitch in her side and fanning herself with a hand. The boy immediately dashed off to throw a ball across the emerald lawn for two wolfhound puppies to squabble over. Dawn strolled over to sit with her friend in the shade and have a well-earned rest.

A table and chairs had been set up under the dipping broad boughs of a magnificent plane tree in the grounds of a mansion in Grosvenor Square. Upon the table was the finest rose-patterned porcelain and a tray upon which reposed silverware for making tea. Two maids hovered close by. They attended to refreshments and to tilt parasols this way and that to ensure the ladies were shielded from any rogue sunbeams infiltrating the whispering greenery.

Dawn sat down next to the Countess, who was cooling her pink cheeks with a fan of ivory and lace. Leaning closer to her friend, Dawn benefited from some wafted air.

‘You make me feel very old, Dawn. I wish I could still charge about like that,’ Emma complained, whipping the fan to and fro with increased vigour.

‘You can, my dear...just not while you are carrying a baby. And as I am the elder of us by two months, please never again mention our advancing years or I will feel quite miserable.’ Dawn sat back comfortably, then took her friend’s hand in hers, giving her a cheeky smile. ‘Come, we are neither of us yet in our dotage, Em, at the grand age of twenty-nine.’

‘I feel quite ancient sometimes, you know, when my back aches.’ Emma shifted on the seat as her unborn child made its presence known by giving her a kick.

‘When you are rocking your new babe you will forget you ever had these twinges.’ Dawn sighed. ‘I wish I could take my godson home with me. I love having Bernie’s company. You are so lucky to have such a handsome son and another little one on the way.’ She smoothed a hand over the small bump beneath her friend’s silk gown. ‘Girl or boy...what do you think?’

Emma cocked her head, a smile on her lips. ‘I really don’t mind as long as all fingers and toes are present.’ She felt guilty now for having moaned about feeling uncomfortable. Indeed, she was fortunate to have her family: Dawn had miscarried a child and then been denied the chance of another when her husband had died in an accident a short while later.

The tea was poured and distributed and young Bernard rushed up to enjoy a glass of cordial and some biscuits. He sat on the grass at his mother’s side, the faithful puppies stretched out at his feet.

‘Don’t feed them biscuits, dear,’ his mama gently cautioned. ‘Your papa will not like it if they get fat.’ She added an aside for Dawn’s hearing, ‘He doesn’t seem to mind me getting rounder, though.’

‘I hope you are not going to boast about your handsome husband chasing you around your bedchamber every night.’

‘Indeed, he does not,’ Emma returned with a wink. ‘I never run away...’

They chuckled and Dawn sipped her tea. The two women had known each other since childhood and had always shared their good and bad times with one another. A bit of unladylike chat was nothing new for them either. But wistfulness settled on Dawn whenever she dwelt on her friend’s blissful happiness. She loved Emma too much to feel jealous. Besides, Emma had suffered her share of misfortune before the Earl of Houndsmere fell in love with her and put everything right for Emma’s embattled family.

Dawn’s own marriage had been different: a convenient match. When Thomas Fenton had proposed to her, he had been open and honest in his reasons for doing so. He was a widower and needed a wife to care for his teenage daughter and guide her into womanhood. Dawn had been equally honest when accepting him. Her father had remarried a woman with whom she rarely saw eye to eye. It had been the right time to move out from beneath Mr Sanders’s roof and let the middle-aged newlyweds enjoy a harmonious atmosphere. Her bossy stepmother would have driven her to distraction. Nevertheless Julia was good for her father, keeping an eye on his health and his over-imbibing. So in a most timely fashion fate had intervened and provided a practical solution. A short while after Thomas proposed, Dawn had become Mrs Fenton.

No grand passion, but in her own way she had grown fond of her husband and of her stepdaughter. They would have continued to rub along tolerably well as a little family if he had stayed in London rather than travelling on treacherous roads to spend Christmas with his wife and daughter. The carriage had overturned on the way to their Essex retreat and Thomas had perished.

‘Papa!’ Bernard leapt to his feet and started to race across the grass towards the house as he noticed his father approaching along the path.

The Earl of Houndsmere swept his son into his arms, then carried on towards them. He bent to kiss his wife’s flushed cheek.

‘This is a nice surprise,’ he said to Dawn.

‘As it is to see you, Lance,’ Dawn returned on a smile.

‘Will you stay and dine? I have invited some friends to come later.’

‘Oh, do have dinner with us, Dawn,’ Emma pleaded before turning to her husband. ‘Who have you asked?’

‘My sister and brother-in-law and I believe Jack might put in an appearance, but then with Jack you never quite know...’

‘Jack?’ the Countess echoed on a frown. ‘You don’t mean Jack Valance?’

‘I most certainly do.’

‘But...is he back from his travels?’ Emma exclaimed.

‘His ship docked a few weeks ago. Valance is home to stay, having found his feet and his fortune. I’ll be glad to settle down for a good long chat with him over a bottle of cognac this evening.’ Lance deposited his wriggling son on the turf.

Emma turned a sparkling gaze on Dawn. ‘Oh, you must remember Jack. He is Lance’s best friend. Many years ago we went for a drive with him in Hyde Park and your stepmother came, too.’

‘Yes, I do remember him,’ Dawn said mildly. ‘Thank you for the invitation, but I won’t stay for dinner.’

The Earl abandoned the ladies to go with his son, dragging on his hand to make him play chase. Lance dodged to and fro to escape the puppies and Bernard jumping up at him, leaving his wife to attempt to persuade her friend to dine with them later. Emma clasped Dawn’s fingers, idle on the table.

‘Why won’t you stay?’ Emma frowned. ‘If you’d like to change, I have a gown for you to wear, or, if you’d sooner go home first to choose a dress, of course you’re welcome to take a carriage.’

‘I know...thank you...’ Dawn said, patting her friend’s hand to calm her anxiety. ‘It is not that.’

‘I know you don’t have another dinner appointment,’ Emma said bluntly.

‘No...but...’

‘But you don’t want to see Jack again,’ Emma guessed. ‘I know that you like my sister and brother-in-law, so they’re not putting you off staying to dine. Are you not quite over Jack?’

‘Of course I am over him, my dear!’ Dawn protested on a huff of a laugh.

‘Of course you must be; you’ve since been married to a nice gentleman and five years have passed since you saw Jack Valance,’ Emma said.

‘Closer to six,’ Dawn murmured.

‘Aha! So you’re not quite as over him as you’d have me believe, are you?’

‘Will he bring his fiancée to meet you, do you think?’ Dawn teased.

‘Fiancée?’ Emma echoed in disbelief.

‘I already knew he’d returned. I heard some ladies gossiping about him when I was at the library earlier in the week. Apparently he has returned to marry a Miss Sarah Snow.’

‘Why did you not say sooner?’ Emma gasped.

‘If I’d mentioned him, I knew you’d think what you are thinking.’ Dawn shrugged. ‘My liking him was all long ago. Honestly, Em, I am over him and have other, more important things on my mind. One of which is my stepdaughter. My letter to Eleanor is quite rudely overdue, as is my visit. I must immediately dash off a reply to her and get it in the post, then prepare for a trip.’

‘So you’re abandoning me and going off to Essex for a sojourn?’ Emma teased in return.

‘Only for a fortnight!’ Dawn protested. ‘It makes me feel quite ancient to mention my step-granddaughter...and another child soon due. Lily is a little dear...up on her feet now. I love to take her presents. Would you like to come shopping tomorrow in Regent Street and help me choose some things for her?’

‘I would love to...’ Emma frowned regretfully. ‘But walking round the shops will fag me out and I’ll spoil your enjoyment.’ She paused. ‘I wonder whether Lance knows Jack’s getting betrothed? If he does, why did he not say?’ She shot her husband a glance just as he gave a hefty overarm throw, setting the puppies charging quite a distance after a large stick.

Dawn got to her feet. ‘Men tend to put little store on these things, Em. If he does know of it, he probably hasn’t thought to bring it up. I haven’t seen a notice gazetted yet.’ Dawn had been searching for one, too. As soon as she got home after hearing the gossip in the library she’d scoured the lists of announcements, but had seen none that mentioned Jack Valance. And then she’d scolded herself for having put herself to such trouble for a man who’d easily forgotten about her. ‘Now, I should get along and let you prepare for your guests.’

‘I wish you could stay a while longer...’ Emma wheedled.

‘I really must go. Polly will be grumpy if her efforts in the kitchen are spoiled.’ Dawn clucked her tongue. ‘She’s not the best of cooks, poor girl. But she tries hard and can dress hair very nicely.’ She chuckled at the memory of yesterday’s burnt pie. But Polly was a treasure to her, loyal and versatile, and that was of great help when one could only afford to employ a single servant.

‘Well, if you’re not going to get a good dinner that’s even more reason to stay,’ Emma said archly. ‘But... I understand.’ She gave her friend a rueful look. ‘If Jack brings his intended this evening, I’ll be sure to let you know all about her.’

‘And when I get back I will let you know all about my trip to Essex.’ Dawn assisted her friend in rising from her chair. Linking arms, they set off at a slow stroll towards the house. Dawn raised a hand in farewell to the Earl. He had his son in his arms and was on his way across the lawn to the flag-edged pond to show the boy the goldfish. He shifted Bernie in his grip to return her a farewell salute.

‘I’ve not heard of this Miss Sarah Snow or her family. Is she young...out this Season?’ Still Emma seemed absorbed in knowing more about Jack Valance’s plans.

‘I believe she keeps to herself and hasn’t been seen much. But she is pretty from what the ladies were saying. A redhead.’ Dawn hugged Emma closer. ‘She sounds like a wise young lady. Thank goodness we no longer have to attend those ghastly balls at Almack’s. I feel quite sorry for those poor girls being criticised as though they were a herd of prime fillies.’

‘I’ve asked Lance to bring me home some tattle, but he rarely does. He says it all passes over his head when he’s in his club. Not that he goes there much. I expect he might go more often now that Jack is home. They’ve been friends since school, but have hardly seen one another in years.’

Dawn thought back on those years, wondering where the time had flown to. Yet much had happened in her life: she’d been married, widowed and now had a family, none of whom were her blood relatives. The only one of those left to her was her papa.

‘Once my confinement is over we must sally forth and find out what the beau monde is up to,’ Emma announced, interrupting her friend’s pensiveness.

‘The beau monde will be much as it always was, my dear,’ Dawn returned. ‘You will discover nothing much more than who put their last shilling on the turn of a card and lost an estate and which husband was found in flagrante with his chum’s wife.’

‘You are a dreadful cynic, Dawn,’ Emma fondly chided.

‘Am I? I don’t mean to be. Perhaps life has made me grumpy.’

Emma hugged her friend. Indeed, Dawn had had some tough luck and words were of little comfort to somebody who had found contentment with a gentleman, if not love, and had settled for that consolation just to have it whipped away.

Chapter Two

The following morning Dawn was up early to post a letter to her stepdaughter, belatedly accepting Eleanor’s invitation to visit. Her second child was soon due and Dawn guessed the expectant mother was becoming easily tired and would like some help looking after her boisterous little daughter.

The Reverend Peter Mansfield wasn’t a fellow given to lending a hand to his wife. In fact, Dawn had had to bite her tongue when she was there last time. The couple employed just two servants: a maid and an elderly cook. When the maid had been laid up with raging toothache the vicar had allowed Eleanor—in the early stages of her pregnancy—to sweep out the grate rather than do it himself. At the time Eleanor had said she didn’t mind, although Dawn had noticed a certain spark in her stepdaughter’s eye. Dawn had rolled up her own sleeves to take over the task, while hoping her stepson-in-law might feel shamed into acting. He had, dropping to his knees with a martyred look. Dawn imagined there had been other, unwitnessed, times when Eleanor had been treated less than considerately.

But Dawn did her best to be amenable to Peter for his wife’s sake. She had put off this visit by some weeks because she hadn’t relished having his company. She had—quite validly—blamed the delay on the vagaries of the March winds making travelling hazardous. She gazed up at the clear azure sky. There was no such excuse to be had now the weather had turned unseasonably fine. But before it returned to normal for this time of the year she must make that trip or she might be caught out. Besides, she genuinely loved seeing Eleanor and Lily, so enduring the vicar’s bombast was a price worth paying. And she’d only be out of town for a fortnight.

Dawn lived on the fringes of town in a modest town house on a leafy crescent. She walked on in the direction of Regent Street, intending to browse the shops for something nice to take with her to Essex for her little granddaughter.

* * *

Reaching her destination, she sought out a toy shop, browsing the counters and pondering on whether a spinning top would be too advanced for Lily and a rag doll too mundane. The girl was by no means a baby, but Dawn had little idea of the progress children made as they grew, having never been a mother herself. In the end she purchased just the doll, undecided about the top, and headed to the drapery to buy some pretty clothes. She was on the point of entering the premises when a sleek black curricle drew her attention as it pulled in to the kerb some distance away. Its arrival seemed to have caused a stir—she noticed that people had turned to observe the passengers. Idly, she tilted her head to get a better view of the driver.

Dawn stood quite still and, once she’d conquered her surprise, commenced wondering how she had recognised him. It had been years since she had seen or spoken to Jack Valance and he looked very different. His hair was no longer fair and cropped short, but a silvery tone and worn rather long. His face had lost its city pallor and was now bronzed by a foreign sun, but his height and breadth were familiar. As was the way he agilely leapt to the pavement to assist his companion to alight.

Dawn watched his strong dark hands; once she had felt those long fingers fastened on her, courteously helping her from a vehicle. There had been two occasions on which he’d invited her to take a drive with him. Before they’d parted for the final time he had crowded her behind an oak tree in Hyde Park to kiss her as soon as her chaperon’s back was turned. During that snatched, thrilling episode Jack Valance had broken her heart. He wasn’t in a position to court her, he’d told her. But he’d promised to come back as soon as he improved his prospects enough to take a wife. She’d not seen him again until this moment. Dawn focused on the young woman smiling coquettishly at him...to little response. He seemed more interested in ensuring the tiger had the reins of the fine pale-flanked Arabian in harness.

He hadn’t recognised her, Dawn realised—his gaze had roamed her way and then travelled on. Rather than feeling piqued at being overlooked by a gentleman who once had told her she was beautiful, she was rather glad to be able to discreetly observe the couple from her vantage point in the shop doorway. With an amount of wryness she realised that if that was his future wife, then Sarah Snow wasn’t the refined young lady she’d believed her to be! Neither was she a stunning redhead. But the blonde was pretty, if a touch gaudy in her fancy bonnet and diaphanous muslin gown of pale blue. Dawn imagined that Jack Valance was out shopping with a chère amie. And she wondered how his prospective betrothed might feel about that.

Hastily she entered the shop on realising the couple were heading towards her. She was sure they hadn’t noticed her vulgarly staring at them—even so, she felt annoyed at herself for having done so. She forced herself to put him from her mind and to inspect small ribbon-trimmed bonnets and a lemon-hued dress that the draper assured her were all perfectly sized for a growing toddler.

Having made her purchases, Dawn headed towards the exit, keen to get home and wrap her gifts in colourful paper.

‘Mrs Fenton?’

His voice hadn’t changed even if his appearance had...but she’d been Miss Dawn Sanders when last they had spoken. So he knew she’d been married... Perhaps Emma had spoken about mutual acquaintances yesterday evening when they’d dined together. These thoughts whizzed through Dawn’s mind as she slowly turned about with an admirable show of surprise at seeing him. In fact, she was a trifle alarmed as she’d not been conscious of him entering the shop, let alone approaching her.

‘Why...Mr Valance. How are you, sir? I had heard that you’d returned from overseas.’

‘I know. Your friend Emma said you were aware I was back. I have to say I’m disappointed that we didn’t see one another yesterday evening. You declined to dine with us, I was told.’ Jack’s eyes discreetly studied her. The dark bonnet brim was shielding her complexion, but he knew that beneath it was a face of rare beauty. On first glance Dawn’s features might appear rather severe, yet on finer appraisal were undoubtedly exquisite. Her green eyes were fringed by lengthy black lashes and topped by delicate brows that looked as soft as sable. Her nose was thin, her mouth asymmetrical with a lower lip that was fuller than the curving cupid’s bow on top. She was petite, her smooth peachy cheek barely reached his shoulder, but her figure was generously curvaceous in all the right places. He hadn’t forgotten a single thing about her in all those tormented years they’d been apart.

It might have been a long while since she had lain with her husband, or even been kissed, but Dawn could recognise the signs that a man found her attractive. She had seen the same smouldering intensity at the back of predatory gentlemen’s eyes when they propositioned her. But none of those fellows had managed to neutralise a tense situation, or his lust, as it seemed this man could.

‘You missed a fine dinner,’ Jack said, patting his stomach. ‘I’m still feeling the effect of too many courses.’

‘Emma is a wonderful hostess, but I’m afraid I was too busy to attend. I have a trip to Essex to prepare for to see my family. I’ve had a lot of packing and shopping to do and so on.’ Dawn indicated her parcels. Had she detected something in his tone? Subtle amusement because he believed she’d deliberately avoided him? She had, although she’d never admit to it.

‘Well, no matter, when I saw you walking on Regent Street I hoped I’d have a chance to say hello.’

So he had been aware of her presence all along. Dawn felt her complexion starting to glow as she realised he’d probably observed her spying on him.

‘You go to Essex bearing gifts.’ His slate-grey eyes dropped to the parcels in her arms.

‘Of course...but I have left choosing them to the last minute as usual.’ Her eyes discreetly flitted over his shoulder, seeking a sign of his companion. The young woman was at a counter with a pile of merchandise mounting beside her. He, too, had been buying gifts, she imagined, even if he didn’t get to choose them or decide what they cost. The blonde appeared to be too busy inspecting gloves to come and claim her beau.

But other people...women...were watching them. Indeed, Dawn understood why. His travels and the acquirement of riches had transformed him from an attractive gentleman to a devilishly handsome one. But it was more than good looks and expensive tailoring setting him apart from his younger self: he had an air of sophistication and distinction. Jack Valance had gone away years ago with his pockets to let and come back with a rather startling self-assurance. Yet Dawn had liked him as he was...modest and familiar. On the few occasions they had met she had marvelled at how at ease she felt with him after so short an acquaintance. He had amused yet excited her and on the day they parted she had felt upset enough to cry in private. But months and months had passed and she’d received not a single letter from him. Her hope that he intended to renew their acquaintance had withered; she recalled feeling foolish for having almost begged him to keep in touch because she liked him very much. And then Thomas had asked her to be his wife and a dilemma had been forced upon her: wait longer for Jack, or marry Thomas. The right decision it had been, too, to accept his proposal. She might have been infatuated with Jack Valance for almost a year, loitering in the hallway with bated breath for the post every day, but to him she’d been just a passing fancy, soon forgotten.

‘I believed your father still resided in Marylebone,’ Jack remarked. ‘Where in Essex do your family live?’

‘My father and stepmother have now moved to Shropshire. I am going to visit my late husband’s family in Essex.’

‘I see. I was sorry to hear about your husband’s accident. Emma told me you’d been widowed.’

‘Yes...some time ago now.’ Dawn dipped her head and stepped away. For some reason she didn’t want his pity, or to speak about her short marriage to Thomas. ‘It is nice to see you, sir, but I must get on. I haven’t yet finished packing for my trip.’

‘Where does your stepfamily live in Essex? I might know of it as I have a house there.’

She turned back. The demand in his question had made her bristle and feel tempted to tell him it was none of his business, but she didn’t, although she was again reminded of how very different this gentleman was to the languid fellow she had known all those years ago. But she was determined not to appear flustered by his company. ‘My stepdaughter and her husband live in Wivenhoe,’ she said, then with a fleeting smile and a small bob she made for the exit, conscious of the weight of his hooded grey gaze on her back.

* * *

‘Do slide up a bit and give the lady some room.’ Mrs Broome’s country brogue broke the quiet as she directed an order at her daughter seated beside her. Both mother and daughter were broad of beam and had left Dawn very little room, squashed as she was into the corner of the mail coach. But she was grateful that at least she had some air and a mist of sleety rain blowing on to her face from the open window.

‘The weather’s been warm for early spring recently. I’m glad it’s back to normal now or we’d be sweating buckets,’ the older woman cheerily announced while fidgeting on the seat.

Dawn murmured an agreement, the only passenger to politely respond. Indeed, the vagaries of the March weather had caught her out. The prematurely mild air of last week had now acquired a feel of frost that stung the cheeks. The roads that had been dry and dusty had been churned to a bog in places by coach wheels.

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272 lk 4 illustratsiooni
ISBN:
9781474089333
Õiguste omanik:
HarperCollins

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