A rogue to cherish rogue.., p.1
A Rogue to Cherish (Rogues of the Lowlands Book 3), page 1
A Rogue to Cherish
Rogues of the Lowlands
Book Three
by
Hildie McQueen
© Copyright 2023 by Hildie McQueen
Text by Hildie McQueen
Cover by Dar Albert
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 23
Moreno Valley, CA 92556
ceo@dragonbladepublishing.com
Produced in the United States of America
First Edition December 2023
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notes:
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Dearest Reader;
Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen
Rogues of the Lowlands Series
A Rogue to Reform (Book 1)
A Rogue to Forget (Book 2)
A Rogue to Cherish (Book 3)
Clan Ross Series
A Heartless Laird (Book 1)
A Hardened Warrior (Book 2)
A Hellish Highlander (Book 3)
A Flawed Scotsman (Book 4)
A Fearless Rebel (Book 5)
A Fierce Archer (Book 6)
A Haunted Scot (Novella)
Highland Knight (Novella)
Stones of Ard Cairn (Novella)
The Lyon’s Den Series
The Lyon’s Laird
Pirates of Britannia Series
The Sea Lord
The Sea Lyon
De Wolfe Pack: The Series
The Duke’s Fiery Bride
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter One
Glasgow, Scotland, April 1823
“Do you or do you not have the money?” Miles Johnstone’s whiskey-colored gaze pinned Grant Murray’s.
His lordship swished the brandy in his glass, legs outstretched as if he had not one worry. However, his impatient huff told Grant differently. “The sooner you obtain the capital for our venture, the sooner I can get on with acquiring mine.”
Around the room, the other two men, Evan Macleod, the owner of the home they were currently in, and Henry Campbell, a reformed gambler, looked on with interest.
All four had been friends for years; there was little they didn’t know about each other. Unlike Miles, who was titled and quite wealthy, Grant and the other two men came from well-established, but untitled, families in Glasgow.
Just two short months earlier, they’d met in this exact room, where Evan had presented them with a proposition to make a fortune. All they had to do was come up with the capital to sponsor a ship that was headed for the West Indies. The ship would return with spices and other precious commodities that they could sell for ten times their investment. Each man’s portion was quite sizable and therefore hard to attain, but they were determined to come up with it by whatever means possible.
The problem was that none of them, except for Miles, had much of an income and couldn’t ask their families for help. Both Grant and Evan had become estranged from their fathers. In Grant’s case, he’d done something his father deemed unforgivable, and he’d been promptly cut off. As for Evan, at a young age, he had demanded and subsequently squandered his entire inheritance. And lastly, Henry had been reduced to a small monthly stipend by his father for costing the family a fortune in gambling debts.
Because of this, they’d needed to come up with ways to obtain the money needed to sponsor the ship, so they’d decided to take advantage of their roguish reputations by seducing women, or even marrying debutants with sizeable dowries. The four men met each week to discuss the progress of the sponsorship for the ship. If any of them could not come up with their portion, they’d all have to scramble for the needed amount, so they’d given themselves until the end of the current month to come up with it.
Being who they were, they’d even embarked in a wager, of sorts. So far, Evan and Henry had come up with their portions, neither by actually seducing someone with money, but by being seduced by love. It had turned out well for Evan, whose wife came with a large dowry, and for Henry, who’d reclaimed a huge amount owed to him from a card game in which he’d wagered his life.
Miles, not to be left out of the wager, had decided that he would procure the capital without touching his own money. He’d then challenged Grant to come up with his portion first, and once that was accomplished, he promised, he’d acquire his within a week.
Grant was determined to win the wager. “Lucinda has promised a deposit will be made into my account within days,” he said, his voice much surer than he felt. “Should be a day or two at most.”
“Bravo!” Henry exclaimed. “I am glad that we will all be able to sponsor the ship and soon be richer for it.” A grin split his handsome face. “Then it will be up to you, Lord Johnstone, to come up with your portion.”
Miles once again looked at Grant. “I will believe it when you show proof of a deposit. Not a moment before.”
“Here, here,” Evan said, lifting his glass. “I, too, will only believe it then.”
“You both wound me,” Grant replied, giving them the most pained expression he could muster. “I have put days… no, weeks of effort into romancing Lucinda Roberts. She is enamored with the idea of a young lover and will do anything to keep me happy.” He smiled, looking at Miles. “Soon, I am sure, she will grow bored with me and move on, but not before gifting me for time well spent.”
“There was the incident, at Henry’s family home, which may change things,” Miles replied lazily. “Her son is quite put out about your… entanglement with his mother. Every gossip in town is having a field day over the incident at the engagement party.”
Grant waved a hand in the air, dismissing the words. “Lucinda is very independent. I am sure her son will not influence anything she does.”
After a moment, Miles shrugged. “We will see.”
Just then, Norman, the butler, appeared in the arched doorway. “Dinner is served,” he said.
Everyone stood and followed him across the foyer to the dining room, except Evan, who hung back. The tall man met Grant’s gaze. “Felicity and I are going to spend a few days at the Campbell estate. Henry’s mother is planning a picnic and that sort of thing.”
Grant gave his friend a look that expressed his distaste for such a bland event. “How positively domestic.”
At the comment, Evan laughed. “True, and I would rather do nothing more.”
Grant frowned at Evan’s retreating back. How strange it was to see two of his friends settled with wives and not seeming to mind it one bit.
Perhaps in the distant future, he too would feel so strongly for someone that he’d consider marriage. However, just the thought of losing his freedom at the current moment made him shudder.
*
After supper, he and Miles had gone to the Grant Hotel and spent several hours at a card game. The Gran
Now, the house was silent, which prompted him to linger in bed. The inside of his mouth was sour, his tongue heavy, and he eyed the rope pull, considering if he should summon for something to drink. It was large, and comfortable, the mostly gray-colored bedding plush. Just a trickle of sunlight managed to get through the center of the matching draperies, giving enough light to look around the room.
His gaze hesitated on a floral painting. The bold brush strokes in red, green, and blue did not make his room feminine but seemed to reinforce the masculine feel of the space. Even the books on the table near the window, along with a quill and ink, or the lone decanter with two glasses beside them, added touches that left no doubt who slept there.
He’d not taken much interest in the room, other than to place whatever gifts arrived for him atop a bookcase or sometimes on the bedtable. Usually, the trinkets were placed into the trunk at the foot of his bed.
Grant exhaled, straining to hear if anyone was up and about. It was probably almost nine, or perhaps half past. It didn’t matter, there was little to do that day.
But then, there was a rap on the door and Grant croaked out a husky, “Come in.”
“Tea, sir?” The butler, who seemed to know exactly what was needed, entered with a tray. “I’ve taken the liberty of asking Cook to make some toasted bread as well.”
Grant could kiss the man. “Thank you, Norman. You are a godsend.”
The man’s craggy face softened. “You are very welcome, sir.”
When he’d finally risen and dressed, Grant decided the weather would be perfect for a ride into town. Perhaps he’d visit Miles or take a turn through the park where people would be out, enjoying the sunny day. As he pondered, the sound of horses drew him to the window where he spotted a carriage pulling up to the house. Since his sister Felicity and her husband Evan were both gone, it was strange that a visitor would come for them and, as he very rarely entertained, whoever came was definitely not there to see him.
The driver climbed down and went to the carriage door, opened it, and assisted a woman out into the sun-filled late morning. She was not familiar, which convinced him that she was not there to see him. But because the carriage was quite luxurious, it made her appearance of sturdy shoes and worn clothes curious.
It was then that he noted the seal on the door; it was the Roberts’ crest. Lucinda Roberts, his lover, was a demanding older woman with a voracious, and at times shocking, sexual appetite. She was no doubt put out that he’d not spent time with her in the last couple of days. Grant realized she had sent the woman, probably with a message for him.
He watched as the maid scrambled up to the front door and knocked, her small hand barely making a sound against the thick wooden door. Norman, who apparently had excellent hearing, must have heard the soft knocks because moments later, he appeared at Grant’s door. “Sir, a young woman is here to speak to you.”
“Thank you, Norman. I will be down shortly,” Grant drawled, not in the mood to be summoned by his demanding and much older lover, who took every opportunity to parade him in front of her peers. The action always garnered varying reactions. Some studied him as if he was some sort of artifact, others with glares of disapproval, or in the case of the more adventurous, resulted in invitations for a tryst.
Upon reaching the first floor, Grant didn’t see the young woman. She wasn’t in the drawing room either, so he went in search of Norman.
“Where is she?” he asked, annoyed.
“I left her in the drawing room, sir,” the butler replied, hurrying to the room.
It was then Grant saw her. She stood near the far corner of the room, looking out the window.
“Right,” Grant said and turned back to study the woman. She was of average height, with a slender figure and dark auburn hair that was pinned up under a simple kerchief. When he cleared his throat, she jumped and turned to look at him.
“I apologize, sir, I was admiring the gardens. They are beautiful,” she said. He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, “It is quite a lovely day, is it not? I do adore flowers, and these are quite well-tended. I can only imagine the garden would be the perfect place to sit and…” She trailed off as her almond-shaped blue eyes widened and her cheeks turned bright red. She covered her mouth with both hands. “I am so sorry for going on, sir.”
Grant couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked to the window. “My sister spends a great deal of time out there. She is quite proud of her garden and will be glad when I tell her someone admired it so.”
“Thank you, sir,” the young woman said. “For you.” She held out a paper. “From Lady Roberts.”
Of course. Grant let out a sigh and for some reason felt uncomfortable by the young woman’s looking on while he read the message. “Wait here.” He started to walk away but then thought better of it, and turned back to face her. “No, instead—come with me.”
They walked out a side door and into the garden. He was rewarded by the young woman’s gasp of delight. She looked up at him with expectation. “Explore as much as you wish. I will return in a moment,” he told her before returning to the house.
Once in the study, he paced for a few minutes before opening the envelope and pulling out the thin sheet of expensive paper within.
Grant darling,
It has been days since you have seen me. I am in despair over your absence.
Come immediately. We must talk.
I yearn for you.
Lucinda
Grant crumpled the paper and blew out a breath. If not for the fact the woman was about to pay for a venture that would secure his independence by making him rich, he’d not reply at all.
Walking over to the fireplace, he tossed the paper into the fire and watched as the flames consumed it. How easy it would be to walk away at this point. To not continue to put up with Lucinda’s need for constant attention.
How he yearned for a strong, independent woman. His sister Felicity was a prime example of a woman who was self-reliant and an equal decision-maker with her husband, Evan. Then there was his friend Henry’s wife, who’d managed a household and all that had to be done in spite of and following her father’s murder and mother’s abandonment.
Lucinda, on the other hand, was as helpless as a babe, requiring a team of maids, accountants, assistants, and lovers to see to her every need. Attention was like air to her.
Knowing he had to reply, he went to the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, then dipped the quill into the ink and found he could not formulate any words.
Finally, he wrote one single sentence:
Lucinda,
I will visit today.
Grant
He stared at the single line. How had his life come to this? As much as he claimed to wish for an independent woman, he was no better than Lucinda. His lovers fed him, dressed him, and ensured that he had all that a gentleman required. Without any money of his own, he depended on finding wealthy lovers in exchange for the luxurious lifestyle to which he’d become accustomed.
“Sir?” Norman came to the door. “Did ye forget about the lass? Should I offer her a refreshment?”
“Grand idea, Norman,” Grant said. “Bring tea out to the garden. I will eat with the young lady who is here to deliver a message that I am not sure how to reply to.”
The butler gave him a puzzled look. “You do realize she is a servant?”
“Is she?” Grant had not thought about it. “Ah, yes, you are probably right.”
“So would you prefer to have your tea indoors?” Norman asked, his face a study in how to not express what one thinks.
Grant shrugged. “No, I will have my tea in the garden with the little maid. I have questions for her, and I am quite hungry.”
“As you wish.” Norman walked away, and Grant followed. Instead of taking the note with him, he placed it on a side table. For some reason, he was anxious to get outside to discover what the maid’s reaction to the garden was. There would be time to return inside and retrieve the note to give to her. For the moment, he preferred to pretend a young woman had come to call on him and that they would have a delightful meal together. After all, there was nothing else to do with his time.
