The Taming of Lord Scrooge

By Renee Ann Miller

Some lords prefer scandalous affairs over marriage. But can the magic of Christmas and a second chance at romance open an earl’s heart to love?
 
Julien Caruthers, the Earl of Dartmore, isn’t in the Christmas spirit. The former ‘Naughty Earl’ would prefer to focus on maintaining his family’s holdings rather than be stuck at his mother’s annual Christmas party, with her endless parade of debutantes. When he escapes for a ride, Julien’s horse gets spooked and throws him off his saddle, leaving him wandering in the snow. Until he happens upon a cozy cottage . . .
 
Evangeline Breckenridge never thought ‘Lord Scrooge’ would show up at her door. She hasn’t seen her childhood sweetheart in years, and Julien’s since turned into a tyrant, taking away Christmas traditions from the townspeople. Eve is now a widow and a mother, no longer the foolish girl who believed a nobleman could love a physician’s daughter. But the weather outside is frightful, and Eve isn’t one to withhold the warmth of her home, even from a cold heart. And as they reconnect, Eve and Julien may even discover there’s still something merry and bright burning between them, a fire destined to be reignited—just in time for Christmas . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zebra Books
• Release date: Oct 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781420150667

Renee Ann Miller

Renee Ann Miller writes sexy historical romances. She is a 2015 and 2016 finalist in the prestigious Golden Heart Contest® from Romance Writers of America®. Renee penned her first book at the tender age of seven and even drew the impressive stick figures—though clearly those characters weren’t as spicy as the ones she writes now.   Renee loves romantic stories, excessive amounts of chocolate, and gardening. She lives in the Northeast with her wonderful husband. You can find out more about Renee and the stories she’s working on at www.Reneeannmiller.com and connect with her at Twitter @reneeannmiller.

Book preview

Some lords prefer scandalous affairs over marriage. But can the magic of Christmas and a second chance at romance open an earl’s heart to love?

Julien Caruthers, the Earl of Dartmore, isn’t in the Christmas spirit. The former ‘Naughty Earl’ would prefer to focus on maintaining his family’s holdings rather than be stuck at his mother’s annual Christmas party, with her endless parade of debutantes. When he escapes for a ride, Julien’s horse gets spooked and throws him off his saddle, leaving him wandering in the snow. Until he happens upon a cozy cottage . . .

Evangeline Breckenridge never thought ‘Lord Scrooge’ would show up at her door. She hasn’t seen her childhood sweetheart in years, and Julien’s since turned into a tyrant, taking away Christmas traditions from the townspeople. Eve is now a widow and a mother, no longer the foolish girl who believed a nobleman could love a physician’s daughter. But the weather outside is frightful, and Eve isn’t one to withhold the warmth of her home, even from a cold heart. And as they reconnect, Eve and Julien may even discover there’s still something merry and bright burning between them, a fire destined to be reignited—just in time for Christmas . . .

Also by Renee Ann Miller

Never Kiss a Notorious Marquess

Never Deceive a Viscount

Never Dare a Wicked Earl

The Taming of Lord Scrooge

Renee Ann Miller

ZEBRA BOOKS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

Contents

Also by Renee Ann Miller

The Taming of Lord Scrooge

Contents

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Love Renee Ann Miller?

Chapter One

About the Author

Never Dare A Wicked Earl

Never Deceive A Viscount

Never Kiss A Notorious Marquess

Copyright

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.

119 West 40th Street

New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2019 by Renee Ann Miller

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: [phone].

Zebra and the Zebra logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

First Electronic Edition: November 2019

ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5066-7 (ebook)

ISBN-10: 1-4201-5066-9 (ebook)

Chapter One

London, England

Julien Caruthers, the Earl of Dartmore, drummed his fingers on his desk as he read over the ledger for his estate in Hertfordshire. After he scratched his bold signature into the journal’s margins, he handed it to his secretary.

Wilson, draft a letter to my estate manager informing him I want expenditures cut by another five percent.

Y-yes, my lord, Archibald Wilson stuttered.

His new secretary was as nervous as a cat staring into the eyes of a mastiff who hadn’t eaten in days. Beads of sweat glistened on the man’s pale forehead, and if he trembled any more, his knees would start knocking.

Julien knew his direct gaze and the deep timbre of his voice, along with the fact he was an extremely powerful man, unsettled some of his employees. Yet he doubted that was what disconcerted his new secretary. Most likely, Wilson’s fright had more to do with the rumors that Julien might have had a hand in the untimely deaths of his last two secretaries.

He freely admitted he was a demanding employer, but Mr. Hobbs’s coronary thrombosis was probably due to the man’s penchant for eating an excessive number of French pastries. And Mr. Granger had been hit by a carriage crossing Oxford Street. His secretaries seemed to be an unlucky lot, but that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t as if he’d poisoned Hobbs and hired someone to run Granger over.

A knock sounded on his office door.

His secretary made an audible squeak as if an assassin would step into the room and put a bullet between the man’s eyes.

Doubtful Wilson would last through the week, but hopefully the fellow would quit before he died from fright. The passing of another secretary would only add to the swirling rumors that when displeased, Julien disposed of his secretaries in a heinous way.

Julien, darling. His mother fluttered into the room, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

Blister it. He’d forgotten Mother had sent word she’d be coming into Town today. He loved the woman, but she could be exhausting—the reason Julien rarely visited his Hertfordshire estate, even though it was a reasonably short distance from London.

Hello, Mother. Wilson, that will be all.

Mother blinked at the young man. Are you my son’s new secretary?

Wilson bowed as deep as a Shakespearean actor at the end of a performance at Drury Lane Theatre. Yes, Lady Dartmore.

She lifted her gold, ruby-incrusted quizzing glass that hung from a chain and peered at Wilson with a critical eye. You look hearty enough. Hopefully, you won’t turn up your toes like the last two. Lowering the eyepiece, Mother offered the man a sorrowful look as though passing on her condolences before his impending death.

Julien stifled a groan. Leave it to Mother to say something like that. Wilson probably wouldn’t show up for work tomorrow—though perhaps that might be for the best.

The fellow’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He bowed again, then dashed out of the room as if escaping the hounds of hell.

How was your trip into Town? Julien set his pen down and stood.

Bumpy. Though I know taking the rail would have been faster, I came by carriage. I want you to witness how uncomfortable the ride is. I require a new vehicle.

His mother was a spendthrift. Her desire for a new carriage was most likely the result of one of her friends having recently purchased a newfangled equipage.

Mother, your landau is fine. The vehicle is only two years old. But I will have the springs checked.

She opened her mouth, apparently set on arguing, then closed it. With a defeated sigh, she reached into the reticule dangling from her wrist. While en route, I completed the list for the Christmas house party I’m planning.

Every year Mother held a party at their country home in Hertfordshire, last year being the exception since the family had been in mourning after Father’s death. But Mother had shed her widow’s weeds last month, and today she wore a violet gown. Not a dark violet dress as one might expect, but a brightly colored gown with a good deal of ornamentation and frills.

Do you wish to look it over and see if I’ve missed anyone before I send the invitations out? She handed him the paper and regally sat in the high-backed chair facing his desk.

As Julien read the list, his anger rose. When Mother had told him she wished to resume the family’s annual Christmas house party, he’d thought it would be for the old fogies she’d invited in previous years, but this list seemed to include every debutante from Cornwall to Northumberland, and a few from Scotland as well. The excessive number of eligible chits was surely part of some scheme.

He pinned her with a hard stare. Are you planning a party or scheming against my bachelor status?

Dearest, I don’t know what you’re talking about. His mother flashed a feigned look of innocence, but the pink that flooded her cheeks indicated she knew exactly what he referred to.

He gave a grunt of disbelief. Are you sure there isn’t someone you’ve missed? I’m positive there are debutantes in America you’ve omitted.

Oblivious to his sarcasm, she wrinkled her nose at the mention of Americans, yet she tapped her left index finger against her chin.

Mother? Julien released a frustrated breath.

Don’t rush me, dear, I’m thinking.

And why are there no men on this list?

I haven’t added them yet.

Well, I might need to travel to one of my other estates during the week of your house party.

She bounced up from the chair as if catapulted by a spring mechanism. During Christmas? Why? Which one?

Any one that doesn’t involve being surrounded by debutantes. He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the rubbish pail.

What are you doing? She retrieved it, placed it on the corner of his desk, and feverishly smoothed out the wrinkles.

Make another list. That one is unacceptable.

"Julien, you must marry. Your father has been gone for over a year.