The Rake's Redemption
LONDON'S MOST NOTORIOUS SCOUNDREL Even infamous duelist and poet Vaughn Everard has qualms about dragging an innocent lady into his quest for revenge. But Imogene Devary is the daughter of the man suspected of murdering Vaughn’s uncle. Surely that makes her fair game in order to uncover the truth! Can the man who writes such moving verse be beyond redemption?Imogene can’t believe so. In taming Vaughn’s heart and healing the rift between their families, she’s sure she’s found her calling. Then his mission to unmask a killer reveals a terrifying plot. Only together can they safeguard his legacy, their newfound love…and England’s very future. The Everard Legacy: Three cousins set out to claim their inheritance—and find love is their greatest reward
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Londonâs Most Notorious Scoundrel
Even infamous duelist and poet Vaughn Everard has qualms about dragging an innocent lady into his quest for revenge. But Imogene Devary is the daughter of the man suspected of murdering Vaughnâs uncle. Surely that makes her fair game
in order to uncover the truth!
Can the man who writes such moving verse be beyond redemption? Imogene canât believe so. In taming Vaughnâs heart and healing the rift between their families, sheâs sure sheâs found her calling. Then his mission to unmask a killer reveals a terrifying plot. Only together can they safeguard his legacy, their newfound love...and Englandâs very future.
âMy father seems quite vexed with you,â
Imogene whispered, trying to focus on her goal while her fingers kept moving over the keys of the piano. âDo you know why that might be?â
âI have never done anything to offend him,â Vaughn murmured back. âWhy would he take me in dislike?â
She wished she knew. Vaughn Everard seemed the perfect fellow: clever, talented, handsome, charming. How could anyone take him in dislike? Certainly dislike was the farthest thing from her mind. âThereâs some problem.â
âCan you arrange a meeting?â
âHeâs so busy. I canât be sure of catching him.â
âBut wonât you try, for me?â
Her mother rose from her seat, wandered closer, eyes narrowing. Vaughn straightened.
âAnd now, the crescendo,â Imogene proclaimed, throwing herself into the music. She finished the piece with a flourish, and Vaughn Everard joined her mother in applause. But his head was cocked, his dark gaze on her as if he hadnât truly seen her before.
About the Author
REGINA SCOTT started writing novels in the third grade. Thankfully for literature as we know it, she didnât actually sell her first novel until she had learned a bit more about writing. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages including Dutch, German, Italian and Portuguese.
She and her husband of over twenty years reside in southeast Washington State. Regina Scott is a decent fencer; owns a historical costume collection that takes up over a third of her large closet; and is an active member of the Church of the Nazarene. Her friends and church family know that if you want something organized, you call Regina. You can find her online blogging at www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com. Learn more about her at www.reginascott.com.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.
âRomans 8:28
To the heroes who leap without looking, trusting
in their skills and their Lord, especially Larry and Edward; and to the Lord, who loves me even when I look twice.
Contents
Chapter One
London, England, spring 1805
Where was he?
Lady Imogene Devary stood at the edge of the crowded ballroom, up on the toes of her white kid evening slippers. She hadnât even had a chance to dance, yet her heart was pounding in her satin-covered chest, and she could barely catch her breath.
Where was he, the stranger who had appeared at her door the past three days? Her father, Lord Widmore, had refused to see him each time, most recently so loudly the miniature of her little brother had clattered against the wall. Why did the stranger so concern him?
She peered about, twisting this way and that. The sounds of the ball brushed against her: the rise and fall of a hundred conversations, the strains of a string quartet, the dull thump of slippered pumps on hardwood and the laughter of flirtation. The Mayweathers had rented the prestigious Elysium Assembly Rooms for their annual ball. A dozen fluted columns marched down the center in Grecian elegance, and two crystal chandeliers hung from the gilded, domed ceiling above. Ladies in satins and velvets strolled past, and gentlemen nodded at Imogene in greeting. She knew almost every one of the nearly three hundred guests. How could a stranger escape notice?
Had he seen her pacing him in the ballroom when sheâd first spied him earlier? Sheâd been shocked that anyone her father refused to acknowledge would be allowed entrance to such a fine occasion. So where had he gone now? Had he ensconced himself in the card room like her mother? Evaporated like a wisp of her imagination? Was she never to learn the truth?
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose.
