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Authors: Miranda Neville

Tags: #Regency Romance, #Romance, #Historical Romance, #Love Story

BOOK: The Ruin Of A Rogue
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Epilogue

A
nne looked up from her manuscript. With the second villa fully excavated, she’d turned to her account of the site for the
Journal of Antiquities
and Marcus had encouraged her to extend it into a full book. Combining scholarly precision with entertaining prose was a challenge she relished.

“How’s the great opus?” he asked. After five years her husband’s entry into a room still made her heart leap. He’d adopted the sober garb of the hardworking country gentleman, but she was thankful that he never lost the slightly raffish look of the scoundrel he no longer was. She accepted his light kiss, always a promise of even greater pleasure, and ran her hands through his hair, which he’d allowed to grow back to the longer style she loved.

“How was Salisbury?” she asked.

“Corn prices aren’t what I would wish, but I did well enough.”

“You mean you charmed those merchants at the Corn Exchange and fleeced them shamefully.” In five years he’d proven himself a brilliant estate manager and turned Hinton around so that her income could be used for luxuries, such as protective structures for Frederick, and the twin lion discovered in the second Roman building. Morrissey, persuaded by Castleton, had grudgingly granted her a fair allowance, though only a fraction of the revenues from her estates. The old martinet insisted that his first duty was to the integrity of the Brotherton fortune.

“Let me remind you that I am a well-respected member of the community.”

Their three-year-old daughter, who had been playing quietly on the carpet, tugged on his leg.

“Up you get, Caro,” he said. “Give Papa a kiss. What have you got there?” He removed the object from her little fist and turned to his wife. “Anne! You shouldn’t let her play with such things. It’s indecent!”

“Don’t worry so much.” Anne covered her sputter of laughter with her hand. “She has no idea what it is.”

“And if I have any say in the matter she never will. You’re going to stay with Papa forever, Caro, aren’t you?”

With deep content, Anne gazed at the pair of them, and at their infant son, asleep in his cradle. Never once had she regretted the loss of her huge fortune and massive house; she had everything she wanted at Hinton with Marcus and their children. They even had servants, one of whom ushered in a visitor.

“Lord Morrissey!” Anne hadn’t seen her guardian since he tried to argue her out of the marriage. Their only communication was a quarterly report on the condition of the Brotherton estates.

“Lady Lithgow. Lithgow,” he said curtly. Morrissey was as stiff-necked as ever.

“Mrs. Lithgow. Marcus prefers not to go by his title.”

Morrissey ignored her. Some things never changed. “If Lady Lithgow would excuse us, I’d like to speak to you alone.”

“Anything you wish to say to me, you may say in front of my wife.” Marcus forestalled Anne’s objection. “And my children,” he added when Morrissey glared at little Caro, doubtless appalled that she wasn’t with her nurse.

“I suppose Lady Lithgow may stay. The matter somewhat involves her since it concerns her estates. You have a son, who by the terms of the settlement will eventually inherit them. I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t ensure that he was brought up with the proper knowledge and awareness of his position. ”

Anne didn’t like this one bit. “What do you mean?”

“The heir to Camber cannot live in such mean surroundings. Young Chauncey merits a proper establishment and a superior education.”

Her eyes flew to Marcus, who surreptitiously removed the Roman belt buckle from his daughter’s hand and slipped it into his pocket. He settled the little girl more comfortably in his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Anne. He intended to let her do the talking.

“First of all, Lord Morrissey, our son’s name is Charles. I saw no reason to inflict Brotherton tradition on him. Secondly, Hinton Manor is a beautiful house and our children are well cared for. I spend every afternoon with them to give them a good educational grounding. Charles is too young but Caro already knows several words of Latin.”

A hastily repressed snort from Marcus drew a quelling look.
Phallus
was
not
one of the Latin words Caro knew.

“Thirdly,” Anne concluded, “I will never allow you to take Charles away to the loneliness I suffered as a child.”

“This feminine intemperance is why I prefer to do business with your husband,” Morrissey said, turning to Marcus. “I made no secret of my objection to your marriage, Lithgow, but I hear good accounts of you now, from Castleton and others. I can no longer see any reason to withhold Anne’s property. I am prepared to make arrangements to transfer the management of the estates to you.”

“I think it is up to Anne whether she wishes me to have control of her affairs.”

“Of course I do!” Anne said.

“That’s settled, then,” Morrissey said briskly. “There’s another matter. Since Mr. Pitt’s death the country is going to the dogs. The Earls of Camber have always represented firm government and common sense and are sorely missed. I have spoken to the king about having the earldom revived for you.”

An hour later, Morrissey had taken his leave, the children returned to the nursery, and Marcus remained in a state of shock.

“What do you think?” Anne asked.

“I’m glad you will enjoy everything you gave up by marrying me. If you don’t want to move to Camber we can add a wing onto this house. I hope I shall prove a worthy steward of your fortune.”

“Of course you will. You will revel in the challenge. But will you accept the earldom?”

“Do you wish to be Countess of Camber?”

She put her arms around his waist, feeling his agitated heart beneath her head. “Only if you are earl, and wish it. I’m not sure you will enjoy being Morrissey’s protégé in the House of Lords.”

“I never thought to be in Parliament,” he said, stroking her hair. “And certainly not as a representative of firm government and common sense. Did I ever tell you how much I admired the principles of the French Revolution?”

“Well then! You shall surprise Morrissey and his cohorts, which will serve him right. I always knew you were capable of great things.”

 

Author’s Note

A
rchaeology was a science in its infancy in 1800. The word hadn’t acquired its current meaning and referred to general antiquarian study. English gentlemen making the grand tour saw excavations of ancient sites and were inspired to do the same at home. Anne’s villa is based on a 1786 journal account of discoveries in Northamptonshire by Hayman Rooke. Since I found very little in print about how the excavations were conducted, I figured Anne would have to invent her own method and I think she did quite well.

A list of Roman objects discovered in Wiltshire included a number of phallic pieces, including the belt buckle. The phallic pendant I found on the Internet and I offer no guarantees of its authenticity.

Nelson and Lady Hamilton really did spend Christmas with William Beckford, including a visit to the unfinished Fonthill Abbey. Beckford is one of the most fascinating characters of the era. Immensely rich, he became persona non grata in society because of a suspected homosexual affair. Devoting himself to his building and art collections, he grew more and more reclusive. Nelson’s reception was the only major entertainment isever held at the abbey.

I would like to thank the community of romance writers for the inspiration, education, and support that make it possible for me to grow as a writer and actually finish books. For
The Ruin of a Rogue
I owe particular thanks to Megan Mulry, Katharine Ashe, Janet Webb, Jill Tuennerman, and Kathleen Greer. Also, my agent Meredith Bernstein and my brand-new and very talented editor Tessa Woodward.

Miranda

 

About the Author

MIRANDA NEVILLE grew up in England before moving to New York City to work in Sotheby’s rare books department. After many years as a journalist and editor, she decided writing fiction was more fun. She lives in Vermont. She loves hearing from readers and may be reached through her website, www.mirandaneville.com.

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