The Rogue's Bride

By Roxie Brandon

Lord Anthony Randall, next in line to be the Earl of Daventry, is a gambler, a rake, and a spendthrift. His grandfather is on his deathbed and insists that Anthony should marry by his twenty-fifth birthday which is coming up in sixty days, or else be disinherited.

Anthony needs a marriage of convenience. But no woman of good character is willing to live under the same roof as him. Apart from the beautiful Regina Hopkins.

Will the innocent Regina win the Earl's heart? Will this be a marriage of convenience? Or has the Earl gotten more than he asked for? Could he be falling in love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roxie Brandon
• Release date: Apr 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463346983

Roxie Brandon

Roxie Brandon is an author of historical and contemporary romance, beauty and fashion books.Her romances range in setting from Medieval times to the Twentieth Century.She loves walks in the countryside and having afternoon tea with family and friends.

Book preview

The Rogue’s

Bride

Copyright © 2019 Roxie Brandon All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

Lord Anthony Randall groaned loudly as the curtains in his bedchamber were thrown open. A stream of sunlight hit him across the face, making his head burn with pain.

Close those at once! he barked, throwing his arm across his eyes to block out the light. Whatever do you think you are doing? I shall have you dismissed!

The maid, however, was used to the bluster that accompanied him when he woke and ignored his orders entirely. Instead, she placed the breakfast tray on the small table by the roaring fire and left the room, clearly not in the least bit concerned over what Anthony had threatened.

Muttering under his breath, Anthony wondered whether he had enough energy to get out of bed and close the drapes once more before crawling back under the covers, or if he was best to simply deal with the fact that he had been awakened for a reason and was obviously expected.

The maid had evidently been following his grandmother’s orders, given how she had ignored his instructions, which meant that there would be consequences if he did not rise from his bed.

Groaning out of frustration rather than pain, Anthony dropped his arm back to his side and tried to open his eyes. His head screamed as he blinked in the sunlight and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a few moments until he ventured to open them again.

Throwing back the bed linens and quilt, he walked across the cold wooden floor to the fire, dressed only in his nightshirt. How he had the presence of mind to change out of his clothes last night, he could not say, for he had imbibed a great deal of liquor.

Most likely his butler, the ever-faithful Joseph, would have waited up to assist him, although Anthony could not even remember climbing the stairs to his room. It must have been a damned good evening if he could not recall a thing about it.

His stomach churned, but Anthony drank the coffee and ate his toast regardless, knowing that, even though everything in him wanted to refuse to eat or drink a single thing, he was determined to lose his headache. By his second cup, Anthony was beginning to feel a little better and he sat back in his chair with a sigh.

The day was bright, although it looked as though the sun was already beginning to fade. Glancing at the clock, Anthony was surprised to see that it was already late afternoon – not that the time particularly mattered. He had become a creature of the night of late, spending his days in bed and his nights out with friends, at whatever soiree or ball they could find, and if not there, then at a club or gaming hall.

A frown wrinkled his brow. The truth of the matter was that Anthony had very little idea about what to do with his future. He had no direction, no thought of where to take his next steps.

It seemed too proper, too much like duty and that was the one thing he did not particularly care for. Duty meant propriety. It meant acting with thought and good sense, and Anthony was quite enjoying not having to worry about such things.

At times, he