A Lady Never Surrenders Read online

  THE HELLIONS OF HALSTEAD HALL

  Lady Celia Sharpe has always been wary of marriage . . . but now her future depends on it.

  With two months left to find a husband and fulfill her grandmother’s ultimatum, Celia sets her sights on three eligible bachelors. Becoming betrothed to one of these wealthy, high-ranking men will surely prove her capable of getting married, so hopefully the wedding itself won’t be necessary for Celia to receive her inheritance. Step Two of her audacious plan is hiring the dark and dangerously compelling Bow Street runner Jackson Pinter to investigate the three men she’s chosen.

  With Lady Celia bedeviling Jackson’s days and nights, the last thing he wants is to help her find a husband. And when she recalls shadowed memories that lead his investigation into her parents’ mysterious deaths in a new direction, putting her in danger, Jackson realizes the only man he wants Celia to marry is himself!

  Give in to the delights of this winning romance series, “deftly spiced with dangerous intrigue, and neatly tempered with tart wit” (Booklist)!

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  “Anyone who loves romance must read Sabrina Jeffries!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Lisa Kleypas

  HELLIONS OF HALSTEAD HALL SERIES

  “Another sparkling series” (Library Journal) from the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the “warm, wickedly witty” (RT Book Reviews) School for Heiresses series

  Praise for

  HOW TO WOO A RELUCTANT LADY

  “Jeffries delivers a delightful addition to the scandalous Sharpe family saga. . . . Quick pacing, witty dialogue, and charmingly original characters set Jeffries’s books apart, and this one is sure to please old fans and make plenty of new ones as well.”

  FSC—Publishers Weekly

  “The latest addition to Jeffries’s exceptionally entertaining Hellions of Halstead Hall series is richly imbued with steamy passion, deftly spiced with dangerous intrigue, and neatly tempered with just the right amount of tart wit.”

  —Booklist

  All of the Hellions of Halstead Hall titles are available as eBooks

  A HELLION IN HER BED

  “A perfectly matched pair of protagonists who engage in a spirited battle of wits and wiles, and a lively plot blending equal measures of steamy passion and sharp wit come together brilliantly in the second addition to Jeffries’s tempting new Hellions of Halstead Hall series.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “Wonderfully original. . . . It’s more than the original plotline that captures readers; it’s Jeffries’s sense of humor, her engaging characters, and delightfully delicious sensuality that spice things up!”

  —RT Book Reviews (4½ stars)

  “Rich with family interaction and overflowing with scintillating wit and heart-stopping sensuality, this addition to Jeffries’s addictive series satisfies while cleverly doling out tidbits that will keep readers eager for the next installment. “

  —Library Journal

  “Engaging . . . fun and moving.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “A winning hand of hearts and spades!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Another enjoyable romance that will entertain readers from cover to cover.”

  —Reader to Reader

  “A Hellion in Her Bed enchants with its likable characters. . . . Amusing and poignant.”

  —Single Titles

  “Yet another delicious love story from Sabrina Jeffries.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “A lively, energetic romance with two smart, strong-willed protagonists that are sure to capture your heart.”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  THE TRUTH ABOUT LORD STONEVILLE

  “Jeffries pulls out all the stops with a story combining her hallmark humor, poignancy, and sensuality to perfection.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “The first in a captivating new Regency-set series by the always entertaining Jeffries, this tale has all of the author’s signature elements: delectably witty dialogue, subtly named characters, and scorching sexual chemistry between two perfectly matched protagonists.”

  —Booklist

  “Lively repartee, fast action, luscious sensuality, and an abundance of humor.”

  —Library Journal

  “The Truth About Lord Stoneville has the special brand of wit and passion for which Sabrina Jeffries is recognized, where each enthralling scene will thoroughly capture your imagination.”

  —Single Titles

  “Sabrina Jeffries . . . starts another excellent series that will alternatively have you laughing, crying, and running the gamut of emotions.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Also by Sabrina Jeffries

  The Hellions of Halstead Hall Series

  To Wed a Wild Lord

  How to Woo a Reluctant Lady

  A Hellion in Her Bed

  The Truth About Lord Stoneville

  The School for Heiresses Series

  Wed Him Before You Bed Him

  Don’t Bargain with the Devil

  Snowy Night with a Stranger

  (With Jane Feather and Julia London)

  Let Sleeping Rogues Lie

  Beware a Scot’s Revenge

  The School for Heiresses (With Julia London, Liz

  Carlyle, and Renee Bernard)

  Only a Duke Will Do

  Never Seduce a Scoundrel

  The Royal Brotherhood Series

  One Night with a Prince

  To Pleasure a Prince

  In the Prince’s Bed

  Pocket Books

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  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Deborah Gonzales

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department,

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  ISBN 978-1-4516-4245-2

  ISBN 978-1-4516-4249-0 (eBook)

  Contents

  Acknowledgment

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Epilogue

  Teaser

  To my dear sister, Jamie McCalebb, who was part

  of the inspiration for Celia—you’re the best sister

  a woman could have!

  To my mom, Gladys Martin, who fled a hurricane

  and ended up putting in line edits on my book!

  Thanks, Mom, you’re the best.

  And to Becky Timblin, for all the things you do.

  Thanks for everything!

  Acknowledgment

  Much thanks goes to Wagner Dias da Silva, for his invaluable input concerning the Italian and Portuguese phrases in the book. It was greatly appreciated!

  Dear Readers,

  Thank heavens Celia has taken seriously my demand that she marry. She has gathered several gentlemen here for a house party so she can make her choice.

  Only one thing worries me—Jackson Pinter. The Bow Street Runner is showing a most inappropriate interest in her. I do not like it. He is apparently the bastard son of some nobleman who never claimed him, so he needs to marry well in order to further his ambition to be Chief Magistrate. That means he might consider her a very good choice for a wife.

  It would not bother me if I did not suspect that she, too, harbors a secret interest in the man. I have caught them alone together on more than one occasion, and sometimes she gazes on him with such alarming evidence of a budding infatuation. . . .

  My other grandchildren think I should not interfere. Even my dear Isaac (yes, I have become quite friendly with that audacious cavalry general) says I meddle in matters beyond my ken. But she is so young and naïve! I cannot stand by and do nothing if his interest is merely in her rank and fortune. I did that once with her mother; I will not do it again.

  Isaac, the old fool, insists that Mr. Pinter’s fascination for her is decidedly not mercenary. He claims that the man follows her with his eyes every time they are near each other. While I concede that Mr. Pinter does seem rather . . . intrigued by her, that does not necessarily mean that he is in love with her. He can desire her money and her body without caring a whit about her.

  Meanwhile, she has a duke, an earl, and a viscount sniffing at her heels, none of whom needs her money. She could be a duchess, my Celia! Why should she settle for a mere Runner, even if he is working hard to solve the murders of her parents? Can you blame me for wanting something more for her?

  Sincerely,

  Hetty Plumtree

  Prologue

  Halstead Hall

  1806

  Celia roused to the sound of grown-ups whispering in the nursery. The tickle in her throat made her want to cough. But if she did, the grown-ups would tell Nurse to put more nasty stuff on her chest, and Celia hated that. Nurse called it a mustard plaster. It was greasy and yellow, and it smelled bad.

  The whispers got louder until they were right behind her. She lay still. Was it Mama and Nurse? Either one would put the mustard plaster on her chest. She kept her eyes shut so they would leave her be.

  “We can meet at the hunting lodge,” whispered one voice.

  “Shh, she might hear you,” whispered the other.

  “Don’t be absurd. She’s asleep. And anyway, she’s only four. She won’t understand.”

  Celia frowned. She was almost five. And she did too understand. Lots and lots. Like how she had two grandmamas—Nonna Lucia in heaven and Gran in London—and how she had to have stuff on her chest whenever she had a cough, and how she was the littlest of all the Sharpes. Papa called her Elf. He said she had pointy ears, but she didn’t. She always told him that, and he just laughed.

  “Everyone will be at the picnic,” the second voice went on. “If you plead a headache and don’t go, and I slip away in the hubbub, we could have an hour or two to ourselves before dinner.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Come now, you know you want to, mia dolce bellezza.”

  Mia dolce bellezza? Papa called Mama that. He said it meant “my sweet beauty.”

  Her heart leapt. Papa was here! Whenever he came to the nursery, he told them about Nonna Lucia, his mama, and spoke funny words in ’talian. She wasn’t sure what ’talian was, but Papa talked it when he told stories about Nonna Lucia.

  So the other person must be Mama. Which meant she still had to lie quiet to avoid the mustard plaster.

  “Don’t call me that. I hate it.”

  Why did Mama say that? Had Papa made her angry again? He made her angry a lot. Gran said it was on account of his “hores.” One time Celia asked Nurse what a hore was, and Nurse paddled her and told her that was a bad word. Then why did Papa have them?

  Celia squinted one eye open to see if Mama was frowning, but Mama and Papa were behind her, and she would have to turn over to see them. Then they’d know she was awake.

  “Sorry, darling,” Papa whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Promise you’ll meet me.”

  There was a long sigh. “I can’t. I don’t want us to be caught.”

  Caught doing what? Were Mama and Papa doing something naughty?

  “Neither do I,” Papa whispered. “But now is not the time for us to attempt any sort of—”

  “I know. But I loathe how she looks at me. I think she knows.”

  “You’re imagining things. She knows nothing. She doesn’t want to know.”

  “Someone’s coming. Quick—out the other door.”

  Why would Mama and Papa care if someone was coming?

  Celia lifted her head to peek at them, but she couldn’t see the main door. Then the servant’s door opened, and she dropped her head back down and pretended to be sleeping.

  It was hard, though. The tickle in her throat was really bad. She tried to resist, but finally it had to come out.

  Nurse came up to the bed. “Still got that nasty cough, do you, dearie?”

  Celia squeezed her eyes shut really hard, but that must have given her away, for Nurse turned her onto her back and started unbuttoning her nightdress.

  “It’s going away,” Celia protested.

  “And it will go away quicker with the mustard plaster,” Nurse said.

  “I don’t like the mustard plaster,” Celia complained.

  “I know, dearie. But you want the cough to go away, don’t you?”

  Celia frowned. “I guess.”

  Nurse clucked at her, then got a glass and poured something from a bottle into it. “Here, this will help.”

  She gave it to Celia to drink. It tasted odd, but she was thirsty, so she drank it as Nurse set about preparing the mustard plaster.

  By the time Nurse started patting it on, Celia felt so sleepy. Her eyelids were so heavy she forgot about the bad-smelling stuff on her chest.

  She slept a long time. When she woke again Nurse gave her gruel but said the mustard plaster could wait until night. Then she gave Celia more of that odd drink, and Celia got sleepy again. The next time she awoke, it was dark.

  Lying there confused, she listened to her older sister Minerva and her older brother Gabe fight over who got the last pear tart. She wouldn’t mind a pear tart; she was hungry.

  Nurse came in again, with two men: Gabe’s tutor, Mr. Virgil, and Tom, Celia’s favorite footman. “Minerva,” Nurse ordered, “you and Gabe go down to the study with Tom. Your grandmother wants to speak to you.”

  After they left, Celia lay there, not sure what to do. If Minerva and Gabe were getting treats from Gran, she wanted some, but if Nurse meant to give her another mustard plaster . . .

  She’d better keep quiet.

  “You’re not going to wake the girl?” Mr. Virgil asked Nurse. />
  “It’s better if she sleeps. She has to hear it eventually, and the little dear won’t understand. How can I tell her that her parents are gone? It’s too awful.”

  Gone? Like when they went off to London and left her and Minerva and Gabe at Halstead Hall?

  “And for her ladyship to shoot his lordship?” Nurse went on. “It ain’t right.”

  Papa went out shooting birds with guests sometimes. Her older brother Jarret told them all about it. The birds fell to the ground, and the dogs picked them up. And they never flew again. But Mama wouldn’t shoot Papa. Must be another “ladyship.” There were lots of them here for the house party.

  “It is upsetting,” Mr. Virgil said.

  “And we both know her ladyship didn’t mistake him for an intruder. She probably shot him because she was angry with him over his soiled doves.”

  “Mrs. Plumtree said it was an accident.” Mr. Virgil sounded stern. “If you know what’s good for you, madam, you’ll speak nothing to gainsay that.”

  “I know my duty. But what her ladyship did after she shot him . . . How could she leave the poor children without a father or a mother? That’s an abomination.”

  ’Bomination sounded bad. And she began to fear it was Mama they were talking about.

  “As Dr. Sewell wrote in ‘The Suicide,’” Mr. Virgil said in his loftiest voice, “‘The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on.’ It’s sheer cowardice, is what it is. And I’m disappointed that her ladyship has proved a coward.”

  Celia began to cry. It couldn’t be Mama. Mama was not a coward! Coward was bad. Papa had explained it to her. It meant someone wasn’t brave. And Mama was always brave.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Nurse said. “You’ve woke the lass.”

  “Mama isn’t a coward!” Celia sat up in bed. “She’s brave! I w-want to see her. I want to s-see M-Mama!”