My Lady Scandal: A Regency Novella
By Kate Harper
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About this ebook
Leaving behind a vagabond life in Europe, Nell returns to England with her brother to reinstate their name among the ton. The penniless pair turn to highway robbery but then, one moonlight night they meet Viscount Carlisle upon the road and all of their plans begin to unravel. For Carlisle is determined to discover their secrets and take the greatest prize of all... the scandalous Lady Nell.
Kate Harper
Kate Harper is a designer in Berkeley, California who is inspired by the intersection of art and technology. She is active in the new media, art licensing and DIY arts communities in the San Francisco Bay area.
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My Lady Scandal - Kate Harper
My Lady Scandal
Kate Harper
Copyright Kate Harper 2011
Published by Kate Harper at Smashwords
www.kate-harper.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
‘All we need is a clear head and a steady hand,’ Peregrine Marriott said as he looked at his sister, blue eyes gleaming beneath the brim of his bicorn hat, ‘and we cannot fail.’
Nell rolled her eyes, unimpressed. ‘After three months, I think I have grasped the concept, Perry. What concerns me more is that you are getting too forward for our own good. If there is a female in that carriage tonight and you attempt to flirt with her, I will shoot you myself.’
Perry grinned. ‘Nonsense. I have a reputation to maintain.’
‘You are an idiot,’ his loving sister retorted. ‘Let me remind you, what this is about. We stop the coach, we take the valuables from the people inside and we leave as quickly as possible. We do not linger so you can press your lips to some scatterbrain’s hand while she pretends to swoon away!’
Her brother did not appear in the least bit repentant. ‘Harmless fun. They like having their hands kissed by a wicked highwayman. It gives them something to talk about in the drawing rooms the next day.’
‘Perhaps. But we do not have too many opportunities left to us. Another week or two and the coaches traveling this road will come complete with outriders and armed occupants.’ She glanced around her and frowned. They were only two miles from their own home, which was a little too close for comfort as far as Nell was concerned. Not that there would be any chance they would be recognized, but still…
They were waiting in the shadows of some giant beeches set on the top of a rise. Late October leaves crunched under the horses’ hooves as they shifted restlessly, sensing something on the wind. This was their third outing on Shooters Hill; popular due to the fact that the road below was both well travelled and overlooked by gentle inclines on either side. Popular or not, they had avoided it until a week ago because of its close proximity to Holly Oak Hall, their crumbling family home. For the past three months, they had moved from place to place to minimize the chances of being caught and – so far – it had worked. But old Emma, their stalwart housekeeper who had been with them so long she was a member of the family, had fallen sick with a hacking cough and they were unwilling to travel anywhere until she had recovered.
At this moment, Emma’s brother Talbot was atop his great black quarter horse on the opposite rise, waiting, just as they were. Nell found comfort in the knowledge.
Beside her, Perry remained silent. Nell knew that he was mentally preparing for what lay ahead. It was usually that way with her brother; one minute chattering, the other profoundly silent as his thoughts turned inwards.
They had started their careers as amateur highwaymen – or highwaywomen, in Nell’s case – three months before when their financial situation became so dire they were forced to eat nothing but whatever could be found on the estate. Holly Oak Hall, their family home, would undoubtedly be taken from them if they did not do something to pay off the debts that hung about the estate like carrion, eating the heart out of the place. The prospect of being homeless as well as penniless was daunting.
It had been Perry, in a fit of frustration, who had first suggested that, if they could not make an honest living, that just left a dishonest one. Truthfully, he had the background for it. God only knows, their father had used them both to help fleece fools during his card-playing career. Not only that but they had fled countless boarding houses in the dead of night, leaving unpaid accounts behind, on their seven year jaunt across Europe. Stealing, Perry had opined, was in his blood; their history was surely a criminal career in its infancy. At the time he had been half joking, but the idea quickly took root. Of course, he had only meant for himself to embark on the venture, but Nell had never been one to let her impetuous brother fall headlong into disaster, at least not without being close by to catch him and Peregrine, while possessed of many excellent qualities, did not number caution among them.
Nell huddled a little deeper in the great coat that swamped her slight figure. It was a frigid night; there would be a frost before morning. She glanced up at the three quarter moon that was riding high.
‘After this, perhaps we’d better start traveling again, find another place.’
‘We have not been here that long. Three jobs hardly make us permanent residents.’
‘But we are permanent residents, Perry. Home lies just behind us.’
‘And who would think that the Marriotts of Holly Oak would be responsible?’
True enough. They had been back for six months and had kept to themselves, claiming that they were observing a year of mourning after the death of their parents. It was true, in a way, although the last thing either Geneviève or Thomas Marriott would have expected was their children to grieve for them. They had always been far too enamored with life to allow for feelings of sadness or regret. Still, shutting themselves in Holly Oak Hall meant that they did not have to find ways to pretend that they had money. They did not have to entertain, to refurbish the faded rooms, to find the food that guests would need to eat. Nell grimaced, listening as the wind soughed through the branches above their heads. This was a chancy business, even for them. ‘You heard they took Captain Night last week?’
‘Captain Night; a ridiculous name, I always thought so.’
‘That is not the point, Perry. He was on the North West Road.’ They had been planning to try that very road for their next venture.
‘He was all bluff and bluster. Probably did not plan properly, or take proper precautions. It is a bad show and he will swing for it. But you worry too much. We are not like him. We are lucky.’
Nell sighed. Perry and his luck! It was the only thing he had in common with his father, that belief in the magical force of luck. As far as she was concerned, they were just managing to stay a step ahead of the runners or the private guards that were being hired to keep the wealthy safe on the roads. How long could they continue like this?
The wind was picking up and on it came the distant sound of an approaching coach. Nell sat up a little straighter while Perry lifted a spyglass to his eye. He peered through it intently for a while. ‘A barouche pulled by a team of four. I do believe we are in luck.’
‘Attendants?’
‘Two; a coachman and a footman.’
Both would be armed. Fortunately, a blunderbuss was not the easiest of weapons to wield and she and her brother had worked out that if they kept to the shadows for as long as possible, selecting an outcrop of trees as cover, they could be on the coach before the attendants could properly prepare themselves. And, of course, there was Talbot who would ride to meet it from the other side. Their usual practice was for Nell to say several yards back and take the hat off anybody who became too frisky. She