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Lady Miranda is on the search for a new husband, and never expected the devil himself to be in contention! After one doomed marriage, this time around Miranda is certain to call all the shots. So when notorious rake and gambler Neville Morleigh announces his indecent intentions, Miranda finds the temptation too much to resist and requests a one-time bedroom interview… After all, shouldn’t all unsuitable candidates be given a chance to please this delectable widow?
The Widow and the Rake
Lyn Stone
Author Note
The inspiration for this story comes from a conversation over lunch with friends about arranged marriages. We decided it was much like buying shoes over the Internet. You like what you see, but will they be well made and a perfect fit? Well, you can usually return shoes for a different size or style if they don’t suit you, but in Regency times, replacing a husband who didn’t meet expectations would have been impossible! Second time around, it might prove best to choose a style she likes and try him on before she buys, thinks a wealthy young widow! So there you have it, The Widow and the Rake!
Enjoy!
Lyn Stone
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Dedication
This story is dedicated to my buddy Charlotte who loves a spicy historical!
Contents
Chapter One
Neville Morleigh happened to be gazing out the window of his modest flat over a stationer’s shop just off Abermarle when he spied his solicitor, Randal Tood, rushing across the street as if he were being chased. Morleigh went to his door and opened it as Tood thundered up the stairs and hurried inside.
“Sir, I have the most extraordinary dilemma. You will not believe the scheme that has involved me.” He laid his hat and cane on the sofa and plopped down beside them, wiping his fingers across his sweaty forehead. “I am so distraught!”
“Easy there, Tood,” Neville Morleigh said, worried about the little man who had been such a good friend to him the past few years. It wasn’t like Tood to exaggerate a problem. Generally he went about solving it without any fuss. “Shall I get you a brandy?”
“Oh, please. Yes, thank you.” He raked a hand over his face, sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, obviously trying to calm himself.
Neville handed him a snifter. “What is it, man? I’ve never seen you this upset. Has the market plunged again?”
“No, no, it’s to do with her ladyship.” He took a gulp of brandy and winced at the burn.
Ah. Tood’s other client. He only served two, Neville himself and Ludmore’s widow. “I assume you mean Lady Ludmore. Is she back in society yet? It’s been a year since the old baron died, hasn’t it?” Neville had been counting the weeks, fifty to be precise. Now she was no longer forbidden fruit and he discovered he was still damned hungry for her.
“She wants to purchase a man!” Tood gasped out the words and quickly took another swallow.
Neville laughed out loud. “Whatever for?”
“A husband. She wants to have children, keep control of her money. And control of the man in question. That is one strong-minded female, Mr. Morleigh.” He upended the snifter and emptied it. “And she’s ordered me to help her arrange it!”
Neville sat down, crossed his legs and sipped his brandy as he thought about the woman he had not been able to get out of his mind for the past two years. Government business and Napoleon’s antics on the continent had provided some distraction, but not enough to make him forget her.
She was a fair-haired vision in anyone’s estimation, but it wasn’t only her looks that had captured and held his regard. There was something about the way she moved, her voice, her laugh. She had spirit, that one, and you could see it well across a crowded room. Vivacious, yet graceful. Inclined to humor, though not loud about it. He had kept his distance. Miranda had been married and happily so it seemed.
Though admittedly envious of Ludmore, Neville truly admired the lady’s obvious devotion to her elderly husband. That spoke of both her caring nature and her loyalty.
He had never met her formally, nor had he wished to at the time. The temptation might have been too great. Ludmore had been a respected gentleman who did not deserve cuckolding, even if his wife had proved eager. In any case, Neville staunchly avoided wives.
However, widows did have the freedom to take lovers if they were discreet. He might be able to charm her into an attachment now that she was free. She might not remain at liberty, though, unless he could dissuade her from this ridiculous plan of hers. “Does she have anyone particular in mind?” he asked Tood.
His solicitor whipped out a paper and handed it over. “Here is a list she made of a few to begin the process. She wants someone penniless, grateful, strictly opposed to violence and not fond of cards or loose women. I’m to ensure their qualifications before setting up the interviews.” He
