Caldwell - The Governess

PRAISE FOR CHRISTI CALDWELL

Christi Caldwells The Vixen shows readers a darker, grittier version of Regency London than most romance novels... Caldwells more realistic version of London is a particularly gripping backdrop for this enemies-to-lovers romance, and its heartening to read a story where love triumphs even in the darkest places.

NPR on The Vixen

In addition to a strong plot, this story boasts actualized characters whose personal demons are clear and credible. The chemistry between the protagonists is seductive and palpable, with their family history of hatred played against their personal similarities and growing attraction to create an atmospheric and captivating romance.

Publishers Weekly on The Hellion

Christi Caldwell is a master of words and The Hellion is so descriptive and vibrant that she redefines high definition. Readers will be left panting, craving, and rooting for their favorite characters as unexpected lovers find their happy ending.

RT Book Reviews on The Hellion

Christi Caldwell is a Must Read.

New York Times bestselling author Mary Balogh

A story that not only touches, but plays at every string of your heart...

Chandrani Shome

Two people so very broken in different ways, and their journey to becoming whole again. This is Christi Caldwell at her absolute best!

Kathryn Bullivant

Christi Caldwell has a way to redeem dark, broken characters and make you forget their past sins and fall in love with them.

Sharon Coffey

TITLES BY CHRISTI CALDWELL

Wicked Wallflowers

The Hellion

The Vixen

The Governess

Sinful Brides

The Rogues Wager

The Scoundrels Honor

The Ladys Guard

The Heiresss Deception

The Brethren

The Spy Who Seduced Her

The Lady Who Loved Him

The Heart of a Scandal

In Need of a Knight

Schooling the Duke

The Theodosia Sword

Only for His Lady

Only for Her Honor

Only for Their Love

Heart of a Duke

In Need of a Duke

For Love of the Duke

More Than a Duke

The Love of a Rogue

Loved by a Duke

To Love a Lord

The Heart of a Scoundrel

To Wed His Christmas Lady

To Trust a Rogue

The Lure of a Rake

To Woo a Widow

To Redeem a Rake

One Winter with a Baron

To Enchant a Wicked Duke

Beguiled by a Baron

To Tempt a Scoundrel

Lords of Honor

Seduced by a Ladys Heart

Captivated by a Ladys Charm

Rescued by a Ladys Love

Tempted by a Ladys Smile

Scandalous Seasons

Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride

Never Courted, Suddenly Wed

Always Proper, Suddenly Scandalous

Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love

A Marquess for Christmas

Once a Wallflower, at Last His Love

Danby

A Season of Hope

Winning a Ladys Heart

Brethren of the Lords

My Lady of Deception

Nonfiction Memoir

Uninterrupted Joy

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright 2019 by Christi Caldwell

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503903425

ISBN-10: 1503903427

Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

Cover illustration by Chris Cocozza

To Joy

You were the first person ever to read one of my books...and entirely by accident.

Im so glad for the day I handed over my laptop with the manuscript open. You helped me see a talent in myself when years of rejection began to wear on my confidence.

Thank you for remaining supportive all these years later.

I love you, Grandma.

Contents

Prologue

London, England

Spring 1826

Killoran, I am coming for you...

Broderick Killoran, proprietor of the Devils Den, had survived falls from grace and violent battles in the streets. But this could be the one that destroyed him.

It was why he now stood in the heart of the Seven Dials, those cobblestones no sane man would wander at nightunless one had been born to them or ones life depended upon it.

For Broderick, the latter held true.

Where in hell are they? I need to find them...

Broderick reread the note hed received, the words there already etched in his mind.

Ye sure ye dinna want me to handle this one, Mr. Killoran? the burly guard, MacLeod, called out, cutting across Brodericks dread.

Settling a flinty stare off into the shadowed mist of the early-morn London fog, Broderick refolded the letter. Tucking it back inside his jacket pocket, he pulled out the pair of leather gloves that rested alongside it. Quite sure, he said, his hushed tones infused with cheer as he drew the leather articles on with meticulous precision. I will handle this meeting, MacLeod.

The guard cast him a sideways look. Ye certain, sir? Ahll gladly find him an gut him myself for ye. MacLeod spoke the way one might offer to pay for a bottle of whiskey to share between them. Wouldna be no trouble. The friendly cheer to that thick brogue was contradicted by the slashing gesture he made at his throat. Real quick it would be. We could be off and at the clubs faster than ye could say the blighter deserved it.

That willingness to kill for the Killorans was a loyalty that went back to when Broderick had saved the man from his own miserable circumstances and appointed him to a position of power within Mac Diggorys gang.

Ill see to this one, Mac. In one fluid motion, Broderick withdrew the dagger tucked in his riding boot. The hiss of metal, an ominous echo of danger and death, filtered through the London quiet. Stand watch.

Worry darkened the other mans eyes. The first hint of it. He doffed his hat and slapped the article against a thigh thicker than most tree trunks. Theres Miss Gertrude and Master Stephen to think about.

Gertrude and Stephen, two of his siblings of the streets, were the reason Broderick was here even now, in the early-morn hours, and not at his gaming hell. The Devils Den would be brimming with patronsmost of them drunk and loose with their purses, and it was therefore a time he never left the walls of the kingdom hed built.

His familys survival, however, mattered more than even his own existence.

Brodericks fingers curled around the hilt of his dagger. I dont need you to remind me of my responsibilities. That whispered warning sent the color fleeing from MacLeods cheeks.

Nah insult meant, Mr. Killoran. Ah merely

Broderick held up a silencing hand. Laying swift mastery to the demons of old, he fixed on the task at hand. I will not be long. He touched the tip of his right index finger against the knife, testing the sharpness of his blade. The metal pricked through the leather fabric of his glove and pierced his skin.

With MacLeod standing guard alongside their mounts, Broderick stalked the streets of the Dials, the rancid alleys hed had, for a brief time, the misfortune of calling home.

Back then hed been a sniveling, terrified boy. Now he moved with purpose, a hunter on the prowl, fighting for survival, determined to succeed, and intent on getting the scum of the streets before they got to him... and everyone he cared about. Most men would have taken smaller steps, lost themselves in the shadows, and chosen concealment as the safest option. But not Broderick. His every stride sent his cloak swirling in the dank, thick fog hanging on the London streets.