Snowbound with the Brooding Lord, page 1
SARAH MALLORY grew up in the West Country, England, telling stories. She moved to Yorkshire with her young family, but after nearly thirty years living in a farmhouse on the Pennines, she has now moved to live by the sea in Scotland. Sarah is an award-winning novelist with more than twenty books published by Harlequin Historical. She loves to hear from readers; you can reach her via her website at sarahmallory.com.
Books by Sarah Mallory
The Duke’s Secret Heir
Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance
His Countess for a Week
The Mysterious Miss Fairchild
Cinderella and the Scarred Viscount
The Duke’s Family for Christmas
The Night She Met the Duke
The Major and the Scandalous Widow
Snowbound with the Brooding Lord
Lairds of Ardvarrick
Forbidden to the Highland Laird
Rescued by Her Highland Soldier
The Laird’s Runaway Wife
Saved from Disgrace
The Ton’s Most Notorious Rake
Beauty and the Brooding Lord
The Highborn Housekeeper
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
Snowbound with the Brooding Lord
Sarah Mallory
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-0-008-93334-0
SNOWBOUND WITH THE BROODING LORD
© 2023 by Sarah Mallory
Published in Great Britain 2023
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 Enterprises ULC.
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.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Note to Readers
This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:
Change of font size and line height
Change of background and font colours
Change of font
Change justification
Text to speech
It had been unnerving to meet Jack Callater again and to discover he was every bit as attractive as she remembered.
More so because six years ago he had been charmingly correct and had done no more than salute her hand. That had been enough to win her heart and yet, innocent as she was, she had known there was so much more to come. Though Sabrina no longer considered herself innocent, she had not expected to be so moved by last night’s encounter. The searing kiss they’d shared had rocked her to her very core.
She had been quite unprepared for the way her body had responded, the powerful instinct that made her press her body to him and kiss him back in a manner she had never kissed anyone before. Even here, alone in the security of her own room, her skin tingled with the memory of the feelings that kiss had evoked. She felt so very alive, as if she had suddenly been wakened from a deep slumber. What shocked her most was that she wanted to do it again, to throw herself into Jack’s arms and give herself up to him completely...
Author Note
We first meet Jack, the charming, fashionable Lord John Callater, in The Night She Met the Duke. There he helps Pru and Garrick to find lasting happiness, but Jack was one of those characters that arrived in my head, fully formed and demanding his own story. So here it is.
We meet Jack again at the end of 1816. Britain is recovering from years of warfare. Prices are high, the poor are suffering and there is unrest in the country. Not that one would know it from the extravagant entertainments of London Society, where Jack is enjoying life as a much-sought-after bachelor. Until he sees the beautiful Sabrina, Lady Massyngham, the woman who broke his heart six years earlier.
Snowbound with the Brooding Lord is a story of second chances, of two people who are deeply in love finding a way through their difficulties. Not easy with two proud and independent people like Sabrina and Jack. I decided to imprison them in an almost deserted manor house, where they might let down their guard and get to know one another. However, my awkward characters were still holding out, and the final resolution takes place not in the glittering ballrooms of London but against the rough, dangerous backdrop of the Spa Field Riots.
I love weaving my stories into a background of real events, and once I had read about the unrest taking place in London in December 1816, I knew I wanted to incorporate it into this romance. I think it provides a suitably dramatic climax to Jack and Sabrina’s story, and I hope you agree.
To my family, for a wonderfully memorable year!
Contents
Cover
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Introduction
Author Note
Dedication
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
Epilogue
Extract
About the Publisher
Chapter One
London, June 1810
It had been the most wonderful June day. Sabrina had visited the tea gardens with her friends, admiring the beautiful flowers and being admired in return by numerous gentlemen. And now she was going to Almack’s! This was not her first visit, but tonight the little fizz of excitement was stronger than ever. In the family house on Russell Square she sat down at her dressing table, but it was very difficult to keep still while Jane put the final touches to her hair. She was fixing rosebuds amongst the curls, their orange blush perfectly matching her new muslin gown.
‘Sabrina. Sabrina, are you ready yet?’
Mama swept into the bedroom in a cloud of raspberry gauze and cream silk. ‘The carriage will be here any moment, my love, you must hurry.’
‘I am nearly ready, Mama.’ Sabrina smiled and met her mother’s eyes in the looking glass while her maid tweaked the final few curls into place.
‘There, I have done, Lady Kydd.’ Jane stepped back and regarded her charge with a satisfied smile.
Sabrina jumped up and gave a little twirl. ‘Well, Mama, will I do?’
‘Yes indeed, love, you look beautiful.’
‘Thank you!’
Sabrina blushed, grateful for the compliment, although privately, she considered her fair hair and green eyes a trifle insipid. She would much prefer to be a dark-eyed beauty, like her friend Helen, who was now betrothed to the eldest son of the Earl of Tarleton.
‘I know dark, curling hair is by far more fashionable,’ remarked Mama, as if reading her mind, ‘but you have a good figure and pleasing manners and you must make the most of yourself, if we are to find you a husband.’
Sabrina protested, laughing. ‘Surely there is plenty of time for that.’
‘Perhaps, but Papa’s funds will not stretch to another season such as this, my love.’
Mama was looking troubled and Sabrina could not bear that.
‘We do not need another season!’ she said, running across to hug her mother. ‘Much as I enjoy all the balls and routs, we managed very well in London last year without them. We had friends and parties enough, did we not?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Mama brightened and patted her cheek. ‘And I am sure we shall do equally well next year. Quickly now, Sabrina, we must say goodnight to Papa before we
Obediently, Sabrina followed her mother downstairs to the little study, where they found Sir Anthony working at his desk. He looked up as they came in and removed his spectacles as he smiled at them.
‘Well, well. My two lovely ladies. And both in new gowns, I see.’
‘Oh, tush, sir, would you have us go out in rags?’ exclaimed Mama. ‘What do you think of your daughter? Is she not beautiful?’
Papa got up from his chair and came across to Sabrina. He took her hands and fell silent as he studied her for a moment.
‘Exquisite,’ he said at last, a faint tremor in his voice. ‘I have never seen you looking better, my love. I am sure the young men will be falling over themselves to dance with you tonight.’
She squeezed his fingers. ‘I wish you were coming with us, Papa.’
‘Bless you, child, but Almack’s is not a place for me, much as I love to watch you dance. I have work to do here, but I shall wait up for you, and you can tell me all about it when you return.’
She stretched up to kiss his cheek before skipping out to the waiting carriage. Her spirits were already buzzing with anticipation at the evening ahead. She knew Almack’s was known as the Marriage Mart and she was aware that Mama had strained every sinew to obtain vouchers to enter those hallowed halls for the sole purpose of finding a suitable husband for her only daughter.
Thankfully, her previous visits had been a success. There was no shortage of partners and Sabrina had taken great pleasure in standing up with every one of them. It was no hardship, because she loved to dance, but as she followed her mother into the ballroom, this time she found herself hoping to see one man in particular.
There were several fair-haired gentlemen present, but not one of them was the Adonis she was looking for. The charming, handsome, eligible bachelor, who was notorious for breaking hearts. They were all either too tall or too short, too old or too young to be him; too narrow shouldered or pot-bellied. She was disappointed, but it would not do to show it. A stammering young gentleman came up to beg for the pleasure of standing up with her and Sabrina accepted with her sunniest smile.
Then he was there. It was nearing eleven o’clock and as Sabrina’s partner escorted her off the floor she spotted his tall, athletic figure standing beside Mama.
She could not stop her happiness bursting out into a smile.
‘Sabrina, my dear, here is Lord John Callater come to dance with you,’ declared Mama as she came up to them. She sounded triumphant, because she, too, knew that Lord John rarely came to Almack’s.
‘Miss Kydd.’ He bowed over her hand with exquisite grace.
‘My lord.’
He held out his arm to her, and she placed her fingers upon the woollen sleeve, a little shiver of pleasure running through her when she felt the strong muscle beneath fine material.
‘You came,’ she murmured as he led her away to join the set that was forming.
‘You wanted me to come and I said I would do so. I am not one to let down a friend.’
‘Are we friends, Lord John?’ she asked, peeping up at him.
‘I’d like to think so.’ Those blue eyes glinted down at her. ‘And is it not time you called me Jack, as my other friends do?’
She knew she must not beam back at him and yet, inside, her heart was singing. It continued to sing louder with every glance, every touch of the hands. She had never felt like this before.
The two country dances were all too short, but afterwards he begged to be allowed to take her into supper.
‘Such as it is,’ he remarked, eyeing the thinly sliced bread and plain cake through his quizzing glass.
Sabrina chuckled but she said primly, ‘One does not come here for the refreshments, my lord.’
‘True.’ He looked around him. ‘I wish we could forego the supper and find a quiet corner where we could talk, but that would give rise to all sorts of gossip and speculation.’
Sabrina nodded. She was well aware of Lord John Callater’s reputation as a charming flirt. Mama had warned her of it after their first meeting, a few weeks earlier, but so far his behaviour towards her had been exemplary. He had not singled her out by any word or gesture; anyone watching would think them nothing but friendly acquaintances, but Sabrina felt sure it was so much more than that. It was not merely her fancy. She heard it in the tone of his voice, read it in his glinting smile. She felt a connection whenever he was near. It warmed her, made her feel...cherished, although she was afraid to hope it meant anything more than friendship.
Lord John Callater might cause her to lie awake at night reliving their all too brief encounters; he might haunt her dreams, but she knew better than to think it might mean anything more serious to such a worldly-wise gentleman.
When their meagre supper was finished, they went back to the ballroom, where Sabrina spotted her next partner standing beside Mama. She pointed this out to Lord John, who nodded.
‘I will take you over to them.’
She was strangely dissatisfied with this answer. She would have liked him to whisk her away in the opposite direction. She wanted him to carry her off to some secluded corner where they might flirt outrageously. A little thrill ran through her. He might even kiss her...
‘Tell me,’ he said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts, ‘Will you be at home tomorrow?’
‘Why, yes.’
‘And your father?’
She laughed, puzzled. ‘I believe so.’
They had reached Mama now and stopped. Lord John took her hand and bowed over it.
‘Until tomorrow then.’ His wicked smile flashed. He whispered, ‘Sabrina Fair.’
And with that he was gone.
Questions buzzed around in Sabrina’s head for the rest of the evening. What could it mean? Why did he ask if Papa would be at home? Surely...she felt suddenly dizzy with the thought of it...surely that could only mean one thing. Lord John Callater was going to propose.
Sabrina danced and laughed her way through the final hours at Almack’s, then rode home to Russell Square in a rosy haze, reliving every moment she had spent with Lord John. Jack. An extra glow of happiness ran through her at the thought of calling him that.
When they reached the house, she wanted to slip off to her room, to climb into bed and go over it all again, but her mother said that Papa would be waiting for them. They went to the drawing room, where they found her father sitting by the hearth, an empty brandy glass at his elbow. He was staring into the fire and Sabrina skipped across and dropped a light kiss on his head.
‘We have had the most wonderful evening!’ she exclaimed, sitting down onto the footstool beside him. ‘Oh, Papa, if only you had been there to see for yourself!’
It was as if he had not heard her. He looked over her head at Mama, his eyes staring out from a face suddenly grown pale and haggard. Lady Kydd gave a little cry of dismay.
‘Oh, my dear sir, what is it, are you ill?’
Sabrina took his hands in her own. ‘What is it, Papa, what has happened?’
He looked down at her then, such anguish in his eyes that her blood ran cold.
‘Sabrina.’ His voice cracked. ‘Oh, my dear child. We are ruined.’
Chapter Two
London, October 1816
By the time Lord John Callater arrived at Tarleton House, the Masquerade Ball was well underway. He nodded at two gentlemen who were just leaving, exchanged a smile with a lady he passed on the stairs and paused for a word with his host before strolling into the ballroom. A waltz was in progress and he stood for a moment, raising his quizzing glass to survey the colourful scene.
Unmasking would be at twelve. But for now everyone wore either a full mask or at the very least a strip of satin across their eyes, as he did. A few black dominoes were in evidence, but most of the guests had chosen to come in costume, and any number of Harlequins, sailors and chimney sweepers were dancing with shepherdesses, Roman ladies or orange sellers. There was even Queen Elizabeth trying to dance in an ungainly farthingale...
‘Jack!’
