The Vagabond Duchess

by Claire Thornton

• ISBN13: 9780373294466
• ISBN10: 0373294468
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2007-04-01
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

He'd promised to return.But Jack Bow is dead. And Temperance Challinor's quietly respectable life is changed forever.Practical Temperance has no time to grieve for the irresistible rogue who gave her one night of comfort in a blazing city. She must protect her unborn child--by pretending to be Jack's widow.A foolproof plan. Until she arrives at Jack's home...and the counterfeit widow of a vagabond becomes the real wife of a very much aliveduke!

Excerpts

London, Friday 31, August 1666 Temperance kept a wary eye on her surroundings as she followed the link boy through the dark streets. It was nearly midnight, and the bustling daytime crowds had long since gone home. Normally she would never venture out so late, but business had been slow all summer. She could not afford to lose the potential sale at the end of this journey. She listened for threatening sounds in the shadows and kept a firm grip on the stout stick she held by her side. She maintained an equally firm hold on the carefully packed goods she carried in her other arm. The link boy stopped abruptly, lifting his torch to illuminate the sign of the Dog and Bone tavern. Temperance was so startled by the snarling beast revealed in the flickering light she took an involuntary step backwards. "Here you are," said the boy. Temperance released a careful breath. After a second glance, she decided the sign was badly painted, not deliberately vicious. All the same, she wished her apprentice hadn't been taken sick that afternoon. If Isaac hadn't been near blind from the pain in his head, he could have come with her. His presence would have increased her status in the eyes of her potential customer. She slipped the stick through a side opening in her skirts and hung it from a concealed belt. She took a coin from the pocket, which was also hidden beneath her skirts, and gave it to the link boy. Then she braced herself and pushed open the tavern door. A thick fog of wine and tobacco fumes and too many closely packed bodies rushed out to greet her. Temperance stepped inside, realising at once that something unusual was happening. She'd anticipated the unpleasant smells. She hadn't expected to be presented with an impenetrable wall of male shoulders the moment she stepped over the threshold. The men were all looking at something she couldn't see, and blocking her from moving any further into the room. For an alarming moment she thought they might be watching a fight. Her first instinct was to leave. She'd rather lose the sale than risk being caught up in a brawl. Then she realised the mood of the crowd was good humoured. She edged further into the room, trying to see what the men were looking at. She was tall enough to peer over the shoulders of most of those blocking her view, but the crowd was a couple of rows deep. Heads kept getting in her way. It was infuriating. At last she tapped on the shoulder of one of the men. When he looked around, his eyes widened in surprise. She was about to ask him where the tavern keeper was, but he grinned and said, "Can't see, lass? I'll wager you'll take more pleasure in looking than most of us will. Come through." He stepped back so she could move in front of him. Temperance hesitated for half a second. It wasn't sensible to let herself be hemmed in by a crowd of strangers--but curiosity got the better of her. With a murmur of thanks she accepted his offer. From her new position she could see all attention was focussed on a figure sitting near the unlit hearth. She'd just noticed he was holding a lute when he began to play. The crowd immediately fell silent. At first Temperance couldn't believe it. What kind of musician could hold a tavern of drinking men in thrall at nearly midnight? But after a few moments the music reached out to her, drawing her in as surely as it held the rest of the audience. She craned to one side, trying to get a better look at him. She saw a head of black hair and the flash of a white shirt before someone got in her way. Then he began to sing. To her astonishment, she felt goose bumps rise all over her body. His voice curled deep down inside her, stirring nameless urges so intimate and disturbing part of her wanted to run away and hide. The rest of her wanted to get a lot closer. Such a thing had never happened to her before. Half-angry at her inexplicable reaction, but unable to deny her compulsion to