The Wedding Night of an English Rogue by Jillian Hunter - Boscastle Family 03 - The Wedding Night of an English Rogue

Author:Jillian Hunter - Boscastle Family 03 - The Wedding Night of an English Rogue [Hunter, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical
ISBN: 9781597221023
Google: WiNS10ND4OcC
Goodreads: 352588
Publisher: Ivy
Published: 1994-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Julia took stock of the attractive man who was half reclining on the sofa, his expression one of tolerant resignation. Her face paled as he repositioned himself, and she noticed the blood-soaked cloth he was holding almost casually over his left hand. She thought again how easily he could be mistaken for Heath.

The same compelling hawk-nosed profile, the crisp black hair. And in that black greatcoat—he was wearing Heath's coat.

"He looks like you," she said to Heath, who clearly wasn't listening, reaching Drake moments before she managed to move.

"Who?" she heard Heath ask his brother, his voice controlled but clearly shaken. "Where? And why?"

Drake shrugged, accepting the glass of brandy that Odham had passed him. "A ruffian—a foreigner by the looks of him. Devon chased him into the rookeries."

Heath's face hardened as he examined the wound on his brother's wrist. It wasn't fatal, but who knew what had been his assailant's intention? "How did you and Devon end up together?"

Drake hesitated. "We were apparently on our way to the same young lady's lodgings. A private dinner party."

Heath's mouth thinned in amusement. "Not very discriminating as to whom she invites, is she?"

Drake lifted his brow. "I resent that. And stop making such a fuss. It's a pinprick. He cut my hand. I came back here only because I felt guilty for leaving you the way I did. It was rude of me."

Heath straightened. "I suppose you'll live, and yes, you were rude, but I'll forgive you. Did your attacker take your cash?"

"No, he didn't. I think I surprised him. At least he looked surprised when I turned to plant him a facer." Drake examined his hand. "He'll be more surprised, I wager, when he realizes he's lost two front teeth."

The physician arrived, a trim-bearded Scotsman who announced he had just been about to attend a dinner two houses down, and wasn't it fortunate he was available? In the flurry of activity that followed, Julia could pick out only snatches of Heath and Drake's private conversation.

"Did he follow you from the theater?" Heath asked.

"I'm not sure," Drake said. "I wasn't paying much attention. We stopped by Grosvenor Square for Devon to change. We could have been followed from there."

"Was he French?"

"No. Hired from the gutter. German or Dutch, I'd guess."

"Why did you let him get away?" Heath gave a deep sigh. "Don't tell me. It was the woman again. I hope she was worth it."

"She wasn't," Drake said emphatically, wincing as the physician began to poke and prod. "She had another man there and wouldn't let us in. A very rich one, she claimed."

Heath stood to allow the physician more room to examine the wound. He turned to look at Julia. She caught his hand.

"Look at him, Heath."

"I did. I believe he will live but probably not learn."

She lowered her voice. "That isn't what I meant. Look at Drake."

"Yes?"

She met his gaze, and found herself frustrated that his face revealed so little of what he thought. "He looks exactly like you in that coat.

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