A Rogue and Some Mistletoe (The Rogue Chronicles Book 5) Read online

  A Rogue and Some Mistletoe

  Book 5 of

  A Regency Romance

  Lana Williams

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  A Rogue and Some Mistletoe

  Book 5 of The Rogue Chronicles

  By Lana Williams

  Lucy Gray lost everything just after her sixteenth birthday—her parents, her home, and her future. Since that terrible time, she’s lived with her great aunt in the quiet countryside. But an invitation from her cousin, Emma Waverly, to join their Christmas house party, along with a request to help Emma choose between several suitors, proves irresistible, even if it brings forth bittersweet memories of Christmas past.

  Hugh Raybourne is pleased to be invited to a holiday house party at the fabulously wealthy Waverly’s country estate. The time has come to set aside his roguish ways and marry. Emma’s fortune would more than provide the money he needs to make his dream of breeding horses a reality. But meeting her cousin Lucy, with her quiet beauty and true heart, cause him to rethink his future and the man he wants to be.

  Lucy soon realizes she’s falling for Hugh, but she has no fortune to offer him, and she’s too frightened of losing everything again to reach for a chance at happiness. With the help of some mistletoe, can Hugh convince the lady to take a chance on him?

  Contents

  A ROGUE AND SOME MISTLETOE

  Lana Williams

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About Lana Williams

  Other Books in The Rogue Chronicles

  ROMANCING THE ROGUE, Book 1

  A ROGUE’S REPUTATION, a Christmas Novella, Book 2

  A ROGUE NO MORE, Book 3

  A ROGUE TO THE RESCUE, Book 4

  A ROGUE AND SOME MISTLETOE, Book 5, a Christmas Novella

  TO DARE A ROGUE, Book 6, Coming May 2021

  A ROGUE MEETS HIS MATCH, Book 7, Coming June 2021

  THE ROGUE’S AUTUMN BRIDE, Book 8, Coming August 2021

  A ROGUE’S CHRISTMAS KISS, Book 9, Coming October 2021 exclusively in Christmas Kisses: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology

  More stories coming soon ~ to be the first to know about new releases and special promotions, sign up for my VIP Readers Newsletter.

  Chapter One

  Lincolnshire, England

  November 1815

  “You simply must come. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  Lucy Gray stared at her cousin, Emma Waverly, with guarded suspicion. From experience, she knew some other purpose was behind this personal request to attend the Christmas house party that Emma’s parents were hosting.

  “We’re just surprised you came all this way to ask us,” Lucy said. A glance at Aunt Edith—her great aunt, actually—who sat in her favorite chair before the fire in the sitting room, suggested she was astounded as well.

  The invitation had arrived in the post two weeks ago, and Aunt Edith had already sent their regrets. Given her delicate health—whether real or imagined—she preferred the comfort of her own bed in her small home where she could rest when she wanted.

  Yet Lucy couldn’t deny the invitation had filled her with an unexpected longing. In their youth, she and Emma, who was a year younger, had spent many holidays together. Days filled with ice skating and bough gathering, the lighting of the Yule log, and games of snapdragon and blindman’s buff.

  Lucy’s parents had been alive then, the world bright and full of promise. The painful clutch that gripped her chest as memories flooded her had Lucy drawing a deep breath to ease the ache. After all, her parents had died over seven years ago, when her father lost control while driving their phaeton with his wife at his side, just after Lucy’s sixteenth birthday. But she still missed them so much, still grieved all the moments they hadn’t been able to share.

  Based on Aunt Edith’s thoughtful expression, she was considering Emma’s request, much to Lucy’s astonishment. Edith Penrose, Lucy’s mother’s aunt, had been a widow for well over twenty years but rarely ventured out since Lucy had come to live with her. Lucy barely remembered Uncle William, who’d left his wife without children but with enough funds that she hadn’t been forced to remarry to survive.

  “Perhaps we might come for a few days.” Aunt Edith looked at Lucy with one brow raised. “What say you, Lucy?”

  “Please say you will.” Emma stared at Lucy imploringly with her large blue eyes, which only made Lucy more suspicious as to what her cousin’s true motive might be.

  Yet the idea of spending the holidays with only Aunt Edith and the servants for company held little appeal. Aunt Edith rested in her bedchamber a good portion of the day, and while Lucy kept her company much of the time, the rest was filled with only needlework, letter writing, and reading. The servants were kind, of course, but the cook was much older, the housemaid much younger, and the footman, who also served as coachman, had family in the area. Lucy didn’t have any close friends, not the sort one shared confidences with while snuggled under the covers before blowing out the candle at night.

  Lucy adored Aunt Edith but caring for her each and every day was a burden she hadn’t expected to bear at such a young age or for this long. As an only child, everyone in her extended family thought her the ideal candidate to care for Aunt Edith upon her parents’ deaths. In the passing years, no one had asked if she would like a Season in London or suggested they share in the caring of her aunt.

  Especially not Emma.

  As the beautiful daughter of a wealthy landowner who lived at a grand estate several hours to the north, Emma lived a charmed life. She had enjoyed two Seasons in London, caught the eye of several suitors, and her attire was always the height of fashion. With golden hair, wide blue eyes, and an engaging smile and manner that charmed everyone she met, her company was much sought after.

  Lucy resisted the urge to smooth a hand along her simple blue woolen gown that had served her well the past three winters. She’d changed the lace collar and added ribbons to update its appearance, but little could be done to hide the worn cuffs and hem. Buying new gowns seemed an unnecessary expense when much of their time was spent at home.

  With dark hair and brown eyes, she felt much like a country mouse when compared to Emma. Though she loved her cousin, it was impossible not to look at herself and her situation next to Emma’s and feel a certain lack.

  Lucy reminded herself she had much to be grateful for and smiled as she reached over to pat her aunt’s arm, her heart hopeful that this Christmas might be different. “Wherever you will feel most comfortable.”

  “You are a dear, Lucy.” Aunt Edith gripped Lucy’s hand. “Whatever would I do without you?”

  Her appreciation was part of what kept Lucy at her side. Besides, where else would she go? What else would she do? Her parents’ home had gone to her father’s younger brother, who had a family of his own to raise along with his wife’s siblings.

  In truth, after all these years of living a quiet existence in the country interspersed with only a few family gatherings and one trip to the coast to visit her aunt’s friend, reaching for more filled her with trepidation.

  A rare gleam of excitement sparkled in her aunt’s brown eyes and lit a similar feeling in Lucy. “Christmas will soon be upon us,” her aunt said, “and it’s been years since we celebrated with the rest of the family. I think we should go.” She glanced at Emma. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble to have us.”

  “Not at all.” Emma beamed at them and clapped her hands twice. “We would be delighted if you came.”

  “We must decide what to pack, Lucy.” Aunt Edith tapped a finger on her chin as she contemplated her choices.

  “Pack something warm as the farmer down the road insists we’ll have snow this Christmas,” Emma advised. “Father is having the ice-skating pond prepared this weekend, so bring your skates as well.”

  Lucy wondered if she still had hers. It had been a long time since she’d skated, but she used to love gliding over the ice and had been quite good at it.

  “Will the gathering be large?” Aunt Edith asked.

  “The house will be full to the rafters,” Emma said. “Several guests are staying nearby and will come for many of the parties.”

  “Oh my.” Her aunt’s delight made Lucy smile.

  “There will be a Christmas Eve ball, of course, so bring a gown for that,” Emma added.

  Lucy considered her limited wardrobe. Though she’d attended a few local balls over the years, she well knew her cousin’s would be much more formal.

  Her concern must’ve shown on her face, for Emma waved a graceful hand in dismissal. “You and I are of similar size, dear Lucy. You’re welcome to borrow one of mine.”

  “There won’t be time to have one made I’m afraid,” Aunt Edith said with a shake of her head.

  The few gowns Lucy owned were a result of the annual visit from the local dressmaker. Her aunt lived a modest life as a widow, and while she never seemed to worry over money, neither did she spend much.

  “What day will you come?” Emma asked.

  They discussed the details then Emma rose. “I should return home. There’s much to be done
before the party and Mother needs my help.” She bid her aunt goodbye with a kiss on her cheek, and Lucy walked her down the stairs to the front entrance.

  “I’m still surprised you journeyed all this way,” Lucy said, curious as to why her cousin was so adamant that they attend.

  “I knew Aunt Edith wouldn’t allow you to come on your own,” Emma said, her tone low to keep their conversation private, “and I so wanted you to join us. It’s been too long since we spent the holidays together. We used to have such fun, remember?”

  “Yes,” Lucy agreed. “We truly did.” Perhaps she’d imagined Emma’s motivation, thinking the worst when it wasn’t deserved.

  “I’m so pleased you’ll be there.” Emma leaned close. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “Oh?” A trickle of concern ran along Lucy’s skin.

  “You see, several gentlemen are pursuing me.” She gave a mischievous smile. “I have yet to determine if I wish to be caught. Mr. Hugh Raybourne is a terrible rogue, but charming and handsome in a rugged manner. Then there’s Viscount Jameson who is fine to look at and daring. Mr. Charles Barnes has a shy, polite manner I find infinitely appealing.”

  “How would I help?”

  “All the gentlemen have accepted our invitation. I intend to spend time with each one before I decide who I want to court me.” Emma squeezed Lucy’s arm. “I’d like your opinion, and I also need your help to arrange an intimate moment with each gentleman so I can choose which one will make the best husband.” She bit her lip, looking much like a cat about to devour a mouse.

  “That sounds rather dangerous.” Not just for Emma but for Lucy as well. How was she supposed to keep not only the other suitors but Emma’s parents occupied? “If you’re caught, the result could prove disastrous.”

  “Then you see why I need your assistance. The physical side of a relationship is as important as the other aspects. My friend, Lady Frances, is newly betrothed and has told me much about how one should feel when in love.”

  “Love or merely lust?” Though Lucy was far from experienced, she was well-read. Her aunt’s taste in books included many romances, even a few that bordered on explicit as to the details of what happened between a man and a woman. From what she’d learned, people often became confused between love and lust. One could last a lifetime, but the other tended to be short-lived.

  “I want both,” Emma said. “But in order to know, I am going to conduct a few experiments. A chaste kiss in an alcove or under the mistletoe simply won’t do.”

  “Please tell me you intend to take care.” Lucy stared at her cousin in dismay. “You’re playing with fire.”

  “I hope I am, cousin.” Emma’s predatory smile almost made Lucy feel sorry for the men involved. “I dearly hope I am.”

  With a hug and a wave, Emma and her maid departed.

  Lucy watched as the coach rolled down the drive, wondering what it would be like to catch a suitor’s eye, especially the different men Emma had described. The idea was equal parts intriguing and concerning.

  Yet she couldn’t deny the excitement that filled her for the first time in a long while. This was going to be a wonderful Christmas.

  Waverly House, mid-December

  Hugh Raybourne closed the bedchamber door behind him, having freshened his appearance after the long drive from London with the assistance of James, his valet. Could he find his way to the billiard room where his host had directed him to join the other male guests? He glanced up and down the corridor then turned left, hoping he remembered correctly.

  Hugh couldn’t believe his luck at receiving a coveted invitation to the house party. Many of the guests had already arrived with more expected throughout the day, and he looked forward to the activities over the coming ten days.

  John Waverly was a wealthy member of the landed gentry, with more land than most lords. His fortune was legendary and, from what Hugh had seen thus far at their sizable country estate, the rumor had merit. The massive home was decorated lavishly. Waverly loved horses and had a large stable, and Hugh itched to get a close look at it.

  The journey from London had been uneventful and left him time to plan his pursuit of Emma, Waverly’s only child. Hugh had first noted her at a ball near the end of the Season and admired her beauty. Though she had no title, that mattered little to Hugh as he didn’t have one either. But the fact that her father had horses held great appeal.

  Hugh’s older brother, Graham, was the Earl of Carlington. Their father had passed nearly nine months earlier, but Hugh felt only minor grief. The man had been a tyrant most days and impossible the rest, especially after their mother died of apoplexy.

  His father and mother claimed to have had a love match, but somewhere through the years, what love they shared—if any—died a painful death, leaving them both miserable. Thomas, the youngest, had borne the brunt of their father’s displeasure, though both Hugh and Graham had done what they could to shift his attention from Thomas.

  The earl had refused to buy any of them a commission so they could join the war, insisting their duty was at home. Anger and resentment were a big part of the reason Hugh and his brothers had earned the reputation of rogues, overindulging in drink, gambling, and women. Anything to annoy their father.

  But those days were at end. Graham had married Charlotte and continued to wade through the mess their father had left. Thomas had recently married Annabelle, who suited him perfectly, and he ran the publishing house their father had started but more profitably than the late earl had ever managed.

  The time had come for Hugh to settle down as well, at least according to Graham. Thus far, Hugh had avoided emotional entanglements and planned to keep it that way. He’d sworn never to fall victim to love or lust—the two L’s—ingredients that ruined many lives, including those of his parents.

  Hugh’s only requirements for marriage were wealth and enough passion to keep life in the bedchamber interesting. His dream of breeding horses required money. With a little luck, his charm, and family ties, he’d be able to convince the right lady to marry him and that might just be Miss Waverly. The invitation to the Christmas house party was a major coup and suggested he had an excellent chance at winning the lady’s hand.

  He managed to find the stairs after making only one wrong turn and soon arrived in the front entrance where a footman stood in blue and yellow livery. “The billiard room?”

  “This way, sir.” The servant bowed and led the way down a corridor toward the back of the house, passing several closed doors before pausing at an open one. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you.” Hugh stepped into the large room with a bank of windows and not one but two billiard tables as well as several groupings of dark leather wingback chairs and tables. An elegant sideboard stood along one wall with a variety of decanters and glasses should a man acquire a thirst. Two other tables stood at the ready for cards or dice games.

  Hugh hid a smile, not wanting to appear overly impressed with his surroundings. No need to look like a country oaf unused to the finer things in life.

  A glance at the men gathered near the French doors that led to the rear gardens showed several familiar faces.

  “Raybourne.” James Trenton, Viscount Jameson, crossed the room to offer his hand. “Good to see you.”

  “Jameson.” Hugh shook his hand and dipped his head. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He’d known Jameson since their university days and considered him a friend of sorts. But the realization that he’d be competing against the viscount for Miss Waverly dampened his previous good spirits.

  “Sounded like a delightful way to spend the holiday.” Jameson grinned, suggesting he was well aware of Hugh’s thoughts. “Especially since Miss Waverly urged me to attend.”

  Hugh did his best to mask a scowl. While he knew the lady was popular and had watched her dance with Jameson, he had thought himself the only one lucky enough to have her extend a personal invitation to the party. No matter, he reassured himself. He’d bested Jameson on several occasions in the past and knew he could do so again.