Her Rogue

BATTLING TO PRESERVE HER FAMILY, THE WIDOWED VISCOUNTESS HAS NO NEED FOR A HANDSOME YOUNG ROGUE. BUT IS IT POSSIBLE HE’S ALL SHE COULD EVER WANT? Benjamin King never yet met a woman he couldn’t charm. Until he strides into the village of Hatherden under an assumed name and meets the Viscountesses Dunstan. Not one of the three is captivated by his winning ways. Ben, though, needs to ingratiate himself into the family as he believes proof of a significant inheritance due him is located in their home. To his surprise and good fortune, he recognizes the youngest viscountess as a childhood friend. Ben proposes they enter into a fake courtship so he can search the house. Harriet Rutledge, the widowed Lady Dunstan, chafes under the strictures of the guardian of her young son and her mother-in-law. Though she must tread carefully where they are concerned, she agrees to help her old friend. However, under no circumstances will she pretend to be courted by him. Harriet suggests a different ruse to enable Ben to find what he seeks. Amidst late-night searches, the two discover unfettered passion, and perhaps something more. But for Hattie, the risk of loving a young rogue comes with a steep price. Ben is willing to make sacrifices for his lady’s heart, but can he prove to Hattie that the cost of love is always worthwhile—when shared? Her Rogue Charlotte Russell Her Rogue Copyright ©2023 Charlotte Russell All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Cover Art Illustration by bookcoversbymelody.com. Cover Text and Logo by Charlotte Russell PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual living persons, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Contents DEDICATION DANFORTH FAMILY 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 Epilogue ACKNOWLEDGMENTS DEDICATION To my feline writing companion – You are missed every single day, Misha. 2008-2022 DANFORTH FAMILY July 1817 WILLIAM Danforth, 6th Duke of Taviston (1750-1803) m. 1781 Lady CATHERINE Peyton (1758- ) Lady HARRIET Danforth (1782- ) m. 1805 EDWARD Rutledge, 4th Viscount Dunstan (1778-1815) Hon. ELIZABETH Rutledge (1807- ) Hon. CATHERINE Rutledge (1809- ) Hon. LUCINDA Rutledge (1812- ) WILLIAM Rutledge, 5th Viscount Dunstan (1815- ) CHARLES Danforth, 7th Duke of Taviston (1784- ) m. 1812 VICTORIA Foster (1788- ) EDWARD Danforth, Marquess of Marden (1813- ) Lord FOSTER Danforth (1814- ) Lady SOPHIA Danforth (1816- ) Lord PEYTON Danforth (1785- ) m. 1814 Lady (Theresa) TESSA Colvin (1792- ) PHOEBE Danforth (1815- ) PHILIPPA Danforth (1817-) Lord JAMES Danforth (1792- ) Chapter One Hampshire, England July 1817 Harriet, Lady Dunstan, not to be mistaken for Penelope, the Dowager Lady Dunstan, or for Margaret, the eldest Dowager Lady Dunstan, skirted the Hatherden assembly room, attempting to avoid eye contact with any gentleman over the age of twenty. Alas, the task was Sisyphean. Everywhere she turned, there was another gentleman, the possibility of triumph gleaming in his eyes. Mr. Gaston, the sinfully wealthy and happily married brewer, sidled up to her. “Lady Dunstan, this reel is particularly lively. Won’t you join me in a dance?” The vicar, Mr. Callan, whose thoughtful reasoning always left her with something to consider, stepped in front of her and bowed smartly. “My lady, I would be honored if you would share this dance with me.” Colonel Portman, seventy if he was a day but still light on his toes, outflanked Sir John Larwood and took her hand. “Please, my dear, I have but one last request before I shake this mortal coil. Will you dance with me?” Harriet wanted to dance. Oh, how she wanted to dance. But every time she was asked, she could feel the sharp glare of her mother-in-law, the aforementioned Penelope, Lady Dunstan, turn upon her. Everyone—correction, every gentleman—within a ten-mile radius seemed to think that two and a half years after the death of her husband, the youngest Lady Dunstan should be allowed to dance. Penelope did not. What Harriet needed right now was air. The July night was warm, and moisture hung in the air, as if the clouds couldn’t decide whether or not to drop their bounty. Her blue muslin underdress, one of her favorites, was beginning to cling indecently. Instead, Penelope and her stifling air accosted Harriet. “Why is it so difficult for you to let everyone know you are not dancing this evening? Why must you encourage them?” Penelope spoke under her breath and while her words were harsh, her smile never faltered. Harriet’s mother-in-law never looked anything but happy and serene in public. The effort must be exhausting. Nonetheless, Penelope’s outward attitude never wavered. “As always, I did tell them I wasn’t dancing,” Harriet protested. “Then why do they keep asking?” Penelope tipped her head. Her diamond drop earring swung away from her neck. Harriet sighed. “I believe the local gentlemen have now made a game out of it. Whoever convinces me to dance first, wins.” “Wins what?” “I don’t know,” Harriet replied with growing irritation at the constraints placed upon her. “Gentlemen just like to win. It’s in their blood.” Penelope stared at her as if trying to decide whether Harriet