Avon
Featuring: Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent; Miss Evangeline Jenner
384 pages ISBN: 006056251X EAN: 9780060562519 Kindle: B000FCKRDI Paperback / e-Book Add to Wish List
Perpetual wallflower Evie Jenner concocts a shocking plan
to escape her physically abusive relatives. Surprise is her
ally, since her relatives would never expect the shy,
stammering Evie to approach society's most debauched rake
with a wild proposition. Evie offers marriage and her
future wealth to this scoundrel in return for his
protection. Evie's father, an ex-boxer and wealthy owner of
a gambling establishment, is dying from consumption. Her
relatives have barred her from seeing him and will force
her to marry someone of their choosing. Evie refuses to
abide by their wishes.
Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent, needs money quickly. After an
attempt to kidnap an heir goes badly and he loses his only
friend, Sebastian has run out of options. He's proud of his
reputation as an amoral seducer as he presents a cold and
cynical presence to society. When an unexpected lamb
arrives at his doorstep with a solution to his financial
problems, Sebastian agrees to her proposition. After only a
short conversation, Sebastian observes a sharp intelligence
overlooked because of her stammer and shyness. Together,
they flee to Gretna Green as if the hounds of hell are
after them.
In their hasty flight within the closed carriage, Evie sees
a dangerous but charming fallen angel. She knows how to
survive, and she counters his wicked tongue with her own
demands. To Sebastian's surprise, Evie is not a dull
virgin, but a lusty and stubborn woman who pushes back.
Sebastian has met his match.
DEVIL IN WINTER is an exceptional and compelling romance
with its lively characters and simmering sexual tension. As
Evie grows into a capable woman able to tame and bedevil
the arrogant Sebastian, readers will be hooked on the
powerful emotions and storyline. There's little doubt that
this is the best Wallflower tale to date. That is until the
next one -- SCANDAL IN SPRING.
"I'm Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can't be
celibate.
Everyone knows that."
Desperate to escape her
scheming relatives, Evangeline Jenner has sought the help
of
the most infamous scoundrel in London.
A marriage
of
convenience is the only solution.
No one would have
ever paired the shy, stammering wallflower with the
sinfully
handsome viscount. It quickly becomes clear, however,
that
Evie is a woman of hidden strength—and Sebastian desires
her
more than any woman he's ever known.
Determined to
win
her husband's elusive heart, Evie dares to strike a
bargain
with the devil: If Sebastian can stay celibate for three
months, she will allow him into her bed.
When Evie
is
threatened by a vengeful enemy from the past, Sebastian
vows
to do whatever it takes to protect his wife . . . even at
the expense of his own life.
Together they will
defy
their perilous fate, for the sake of all-consuming love.
Excerpt
Chapter One
London 1843
As Sebastian stared at the young woman who had just
barged
her way into his London house, it occurred to him that he
may have tried to abduct the wrong heiress last week.
Although kidnapping had not, until recently, been on
Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent’s long list of villainous
acts,
he really should have been more clever about it. To begin
with, he should have chosen far less spirited prey.
Lillian
Bowman, a lively American heiress, had put up fierce
resistance to his plan until she had been rescued by her
fiancee, Lord Westcliff.
In retrospect, Lillian had been a foolish choice, though
at
the time she had seemed the perfect solution to
Sebastian’s
dilemma. Her family was wealthy, whereas Sebastian was
titled and in financial straits. And Lillian herself had
promised to be an entertaining bed-partner, with her
dark-
haired beauty and her fiery temperament.
Miss Evangeline Jenner, the lamb-like creature who stood
before him, was as unlike Lillian Bowman as it was
possible
to be. Sebastian regarded her with veiled contempt,
pondering what he knew of her. Evangeline was the only
child of Ivo Jenner, the notorious London gambling club
owner. Though Evangeline’s mother had come from decent
lineage, her father was little better than gutter-scum.
Despite the inglorious pedigree, Evangeline might have
made
a decent match if not for her crippling shyness, which
resulted in a torturous stammer. Sebastian had heard men
say grimly that they would wear a hairshirt until their
skin was bloody, rather than attempt a conversation with
her. Naturally Sebastian had done his utmost to avoid her
company whenever possible. That had not been difficult.
The
timid Miss Jenner was wont to hide in corners. They had
never actually spoken directly–a circumstance that had
appeared to suit both of them quite well.
But there was no avoiding her now. For some reason Miss
Jenner had seen fit to come uninvited to Sebastian’s home
at a scandalously late hour. To make the situation even
more compromising, she was unaccompanied–and spending
more
than a half-minute alone with Sebastian was sufficient to
ruin any girl. He was debauched, amoral, and perversely
proud of it. He excelled at his chosen occupation–that of
degenerate seducer–and he had set a standard that few
rakes
could aspire to.
Relaxing in his chair, Sebastian watched with deceptive
idleness as Evangeline Jenner approached. The library
room
was dark except for a small fire in the hearth, its
flickering light playing gently over the young woman’s
face. She didn’t look to be more than twenty, her
complexion fresh, her eyes filled with the kind of
innocence that never failed to arouse his disdain.
Sebastian had never valued nor admired innocence.
Though the gentlemanly thing would have been for him to
rise from his chair, there seemed little point in making
polite gestures under the circumstances. Instead, he
motioned to the other chair beside the hearth with a
negligent wave of his hand.
“Have a seat if you like,” he said. “Though I shouldn’t
plan to stay long if I were you. I’m easily bored, and
your
reputation is hardly that of a scintillating
conversationalist.”
Evangeline didn’t flinch at his rudeness. Sebastian
couldn’t help wondering what kind of upbringing had
inured
her so thoroughly to insult, when any other girl would
have
flushed or burst into tears. Either she was a peawit, or
she had remarkable nerve.
Removing her cloak, Evangeline draped it over one arm of
the velvet-upholstered chair, and sat without grace or
artifice. Wallflower, Sebastian thought, recalling that
she
was friends not only with Lillian Bowman, but also
Lillian’s younger sister Daisy, and Annabelle Hunt. The
group of four young women had sat at the side of numerous
balls and soirees all last season, a band of perpetual
wallflowers. However, it seemed that their bad luck had
changed, for Annabelle had finally managed to catch a
husband, and Lillian had just brought Lord Westcliff up
to
scratch. Sebastian doubted that their good fortune would
extend to this bumbling creature.
Though he was tempted to demand her purpose in visiting
him, Sebastian feared that might set off a round of
prolonged stammering that would torment them both. He
waited with forced patience, while Evangeline appeared to
consider what she was about to say. As the silence drew
out, Sebastian watched her in the gamboling firelight,
and
realized with some surprise that she was an attractive
girl. He had never really looked at her directly, had
only
received the impression of a frowsy red-haired girl with
bad posture. But she was lovely.
As Sebastian stared at her, he became aware of a slight
tension building in his muscles, tiny hairs rising on the
back of his neck. He remained relaxed in his chair,
though
the tips of his fingers made slight depressions in the
soft-
napped velvet upholstery. He found it odd that he had
never
noticed her, when there was a great deal about her worth
noticing. Her hair, the brightest shade of red he had
ever
seen, seemed to feed on the firelight, glowing with
incandescent heat. The slender wings of her brows and the
heavy fringe of her lashes were a darker shade of auburn,
while her skin was that of a true redhead, fair and a bit
freckled on the nose and cheeks. Sebastian was amused by
the festive scattering of little gold flecks, sprinkled
as
if by the whim of a friendly fairy. She had unfashionably
full lips that were colored a natural rose, and large,
round blue eyes . . . pretty but emotionless eyes, like
those of a wax doll.
“I r-received word that my friend Miss Bowman is now Lady
Westcliff,” Evangeline remarked in a careful manner. “She
and the earl went on to G-Gretna Green after he . . .
dispatched of you.”
“‘Beat me to a pulp’ would be a more accurate choice of
words,” Sebastian said pleasantly, knowing that she
couldn’t help but have noticed the shadowy bruises on his
jaw from Westcliff’s righteous pummeling. “He didn’t seem
to take it well, my borrowing of his betrothed.”
“You k-kidnapped her,” Evangeline countered
calmly. “‘Borrowing’ implies that you intended to give
her
back.”
Sebastian felt his lips curve with his first real smile
in
a long time. She wasn’t a simpleton,
apparently. “Kidnapped, then, if you’re going to nitpick.
Is that why you’ve come to visit, Miss Jenner? To deliver
a
report on the happy couple? I’m weary of the subject. You
had better say something interesting soon, or I’m afraid
you’ll have to leave.”
“You w-wanted Miss Bowman because she is an heiress,”
Evangeline said. “And you need to marry someone with
money.”
“True,” Sebastian acknowledged easily. “My father, the
duke, has failed in his one responsibility in life: to
keep
the family fortune intact so that he can pass it on to
me.
My responsibility, on the other hand, is to pass my time
in
profligate idleness and wait for him to die. I’ve been
doing my job splendidly. The duke, however, has not. He’s
made a botch of managing the family finances, and at
present he is unforgivably poor and even worse, healthy.”
“My father is rich,” Evangeline said without emotion.
“And
dying.”
“Congratulations.” Sebastian studied her intently. He did
not doubt that Ivo Jenner had a considerable fortune from
the gambling club. Jenner’s was a place where London
gentlemen went for gaming, good food, strong drink, and
inexpensive whores. The atmosphere was one of
extravagance
tinged with a comfortable degree of shabbiness. Nearly
twenty years earlier, Jenner’s had been a second-rate
alternative to the legendary Craven’s, the grandest and
most successful gaming club that England had ever known.
However, when Craven’s had burned to the ground, and its
owner had declined to rebuild, Jenner’s club had
inherited
a flood of wealthy patrons by default, and it had risen
to
its own position of prominence. Not that it could ever be
compared to Craven’s. A club was largely a reflection of
its owner’s character and style, both of which Jenner was
sorely lacking. Derek Craven had been, indisputably, a
showman. Ivo Jenner, by contrast, was a ham-fisted brute,
an ex-boxer who had never excelled at anything, but by
some
miraculous whim of fate had become a successful
businessman.
And here was Jenner’s daughter, his only child. If she
was
about to make the offer that Sebastian suspected she
might,
he could not afford to refuse it.
“I don’t want your c-congratulations,” Evangeline said in
response to his earlier remark.
“What do you want, child?” Sebastian asked softly. “Get
to
the point, if you please. This is becoming tedious.”
“I want to be with my father for the last few days of his
l-
life. My mother’s family won’t allow me to see him. I’ve
tried to run away to his club, but they always catch me,
and then I’m punished. I w-will not go back to them this
time. They have plans that I intend to avoid--at the cost
of my own life, if necessary.”
“And those plans are?” Sebastian prodded idly.
“They are trying to force me to marry one of my cousins.
Mr. Eustace Stubbins. He cares n-nothing for me, nor I
for
him . . . but he is a willing pawn in the family’s
scheme.”
“Which is to gain control of your father’s fortune when
he
dies?”
“Yes. At first I considered the idea, because I thought
that Mr. Stubbins and I could have our own house . . .
and
I thought . . . life might be bearable if I could live
away
from the rest of them. But Mr. Stubbins told me that he
has
no intention of moving anywhere. He wants to stay under
the
family’s roof . . . and I don’t think I can survive there
much longer.” Faced with his seemingly incurious silence,
she added quietly, “I believe they mean to k-kill me
after
they’ve gotten my father’s money.”
Sebastian’s gaze did not move from her face, though he
kept
his tone light. “How inconsiderate of them. Why should I
care?”
Evangeline did not rise to his baiting, only gave him a
steady stare that was evidence of a an innate toughness
Sebastian had never encountered in a woman before. “I’m
offering to marry you,” she said. “I want your
protection.
My father is too ill and weak to help me, and I will not
be
a burden to my friends. I believe they would offer to
harbor me, but even then I would always have to be on
guard, fearing that my relations would manage to steal me
away and force me to do their will. An unmarried woman
has
little recourse, socially or legally. It isn’t f-
fair . . .
but I can’t afford to go tilting at windmills. I need a
h-
husband. You need a rich wife. And we are both equally
desperate, which leads me to believe that you will agree
to
my p-proposition. If so, then I should like to leave for
Gretna Green tonight. Now. I’m certain that my relations
are already looking for me.”
The silence was charged and heavy as Sebastian
contemplated
her with an unfriendly gaze. He didn’t trust her. And
after
the debacle of last week’s thwarted abduction, he had no
wish to repeat the experience.
Still, she was right about something. Sebastian was
indeed
desperate. He was a man who liked to dress well, eat
well,
live well, as a multitude of creditors would attest. The
stingy monthly allotment he received from the duke was
soon
to be cut off, and he hadn’t enough funds in his account
to
last the month. To a man who had no objection to taking
the
easy way out, this offer was a godsend. If she were
willing
to see it through.
“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Sebastian said
casually, “but how close is your father to dying? Some
people linger for years on their deathbeds. Very bad
form,
I’ve always thought, to keep people waiting.”
“You won’t have to wait for long,” came her brittle
reply. “A fortnight, perhaps.”
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t change your mind
before we reach Gretna Green? You know what kind of man I
am, Miss Jenner. Need I remind you that I tried to abduct
and ravish one of your friends last week?”
Evangeline’s gaze shot to his. Unlike his own eyes, which
were a pale shade of blue, hers were dark sapphire. “Did
you try to rape Lillian?” she asked tautly.
“I threatened to.”
“Would you have carried out your threat?”
“I don’t know. I never have before, but as you said, I am
desperate. And while we’re on the subject . . . are you
proposing a marriage of convenience, or are we to sleep
together on occasion?”
Evangline ignored the question, persisting, “Would you
have
f-forced yourself on her, or not?”
Sebastian stared at her with patent mockery. “If I say
no,
Miss Jenner, how would you know if I were lying or not?
No.
I would not have raped her. Is that the answer you want?
Believe it, then, if it makes you feel safer. Now as for
my
question . . .”
“I will sl-sleep with you once,” she said, “to make the
marriage legal. Never again after that.”
“Lovely,” he murmured. “I rarely like to bed a woman more
than once. A crashing bore, after the novelty is gone.
Besides, I would never be so bourgeois as to lust after
my
own wife. It implies that one hasn’t the means to keep a
mistress. Of course, there is the issue of providing me
with an heir . . . but as long as you’re discreet, I
don’t
expect I’ll give a damn whose child it is.”
She didn’t even blink. “I will want a p-portion of the
inheritance to be set aside for me in a trust. A generous
one. The interest will be mine alone, and I will spend it
as I see fit–without answering to you for my actions.”
Sebastian comprehended that she was not dull-witted by
any
means, though the stammer would cause many to assume
otherwise. She was accustomed to being underestimated,
ignored, overlooked . . . and he sensed that she would
turn
it to her advantage whenever possible. That interested
him.
“I’d be a fool to trust you,” he said. “You could back
out
of our agreement at any moment. And you’d be an even
greater one to trust me. Because once we’re married, I
could play far greater hell with you than your mother’s
family ever dreamed of doing.”
“I would r-rather have it be from someone I chose,” she
returned grimly. “Better you than Eustace.”
Sebastian grinned at that. “That doesn’t say much for
Eustace.”
She did not return his smile, only slumped a little in
her
chair, as if a great tension had left her, and stared at
him with dogged resignation. Their gazes held, and
Sebastian experienced a strange shock of awareness that
went from his head to his toes.
It was nothing new for him to be easily aroused by a
woman.
He had long ago realized that he was a more physical man
than most, and that some women set off sparks in him,
ignited his sensuality, to an unusual degree. For some
reason this awkward, stammering girl was one of them. He
wanted to bed her.
Visions darted from his seething imagination, of her
body,
the limbs and curves and skin he had not yet seen, the
swell of her bottom as he cupped it in his hands. He
wanted
the scent of her in his nostrils, and on his own
skin . . .
the drag of her long hair over his throat and chest . . .
he wanted to do unspeakable things with her mouth, and
with
his own.
“It’s decided, then,” he murmured. “I accept your
proposition. There’s much more to discuss, of course, but
we’ll have two days until we reach Gretna Green.” He rose
from the chair and stretched, his smile lingering as he
noticed the way her gaze slid quickly over his body.
“I’ll
have the carriage readied and have the valet pack my
clothes. We’ll leave within the hour. Incidentally, if
you
decide to back out of our agreement at any time during
our
journey, I will strangle you.”
She shot him a sardonic glance. “You w-wouldn’t be so
nervous about that if you hadn’t tried this with an
unwilling victim l-last week.”
“Touche. Then we may describe you as a willing victim?”
“An eager one,” Evangeline said shortly, looking as
though
she wanted to be off at once.
“My favorite kind,” he remarked, and bowed politely
before
he strode from the library.
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