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When Isabel Darracott goes to London to meet her guardian, the Duke of Marlowe, she never expects to be ravished in the library by a half-clad barbarian--or that the rogue would turn out to be the duke himself! Though she finds herself devastated by his kisses, prim-and-proper Isabel knows she can not give in to temptation--for he is the devil in a very handsome disguise. .
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"An 'I couldn't put it down!' novel." Lisa Ramaglia for America Online
MACLAREN'S BRIDE
"Debra Dier will delight readers with her delicious love story. Meg and Alec are a passionate pair and the Scottish setting is truly romantic! Ms. Dier has written a thoroughly enjoyable novel that readers will love!" The Literary Times
"Debra Dier's delightful drama is definitely a historical romance reader's dream." Affaire de Coeur
"The talented Ms. Dier captures the English/Scottish animosity to perfection and weaves an exhilarating tale that will touch your heart and fire the emotions. Great Reading!" Rendezvous
LORD SAVAGE
"Exhilarating and fascinating!" Affaire de Coeur
"Kudos to Ms. Dier for an unforgettable reading adventure. Superb!" Rendezvous
"Sensual, involving and well written, this is another winner from the talented pen of Ms. Dier." The Paperback Forum
Page 3
A REDEEMING PASSION
Justin touched her cheek. "I have no intention of ever entering that constrictive hypocrisy known as matrimony, Belle. If you have any thoughts about trapping me with your innocent wiles, consider yourself warned. You will get hurt."
Isabel stepped back. "You cannot abide to have anyone think you honorable. Or generous. Or kind. Everyone must be a little afraid of you. You certainly wouldn't want anyone to know you are really very amiable."
"Amiable?"
"You are very dear, actually."
"Dear?" He stared at her, his heart pounding an appalling rhythm against the wall of his chest. Did she think he was some stripling lad? A drawing-room ornament? Some puppy sniffing after her skirts? He cringed at the insipid thought. The blood pounded so loudly in his ears, he could scarcely hear her next words.
"You're also incredibly chivalrous and terribly gallant."
"Enough!" He wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her up against his chest and off the floor. He clamped his mouth over her startled lips, intent on teaching her a lesson. He would show her just how dangerous he was. Heroic. Chivalrous. Gallant! He was a scoundrel. A rake. A libertine with no hope of redemption. And this kiss would prove it.
Page 4
Other Leisure books by Debra Dier:
MacLAREN'S BRIDE LORD SAVAGE SCOUNDREL DECEPTIONS & DREAMS A QUEST OF DREAMS SHADOW OF THE STORM SURRENDER THE DREAM
Page 5
Devil's Honor
Debra Dier
Page 6
For Denny, Sally, Beth, Dani, Dennis and Chrisdin. You make it a joy to be part of the same family.
A LEISURE BOOK
March 1998
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 276 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10001
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
Copyright 1998 by Debra Dier
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN 0-8439-4362-9
The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "L" with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Page 9
Chapter One
London, 1816
"I cannot promise His Grace will see you this morning, Miss Darracott. Last night was..." The butler lifted one bushy white brow. "Last night was a particularly exhausting evening for His Grace. But I shall do my best to impart the urgency of your request."
Isabel Darracott gave the elderly retainer the same smile that had won her admittance past two footmen and into the Duke of Marlow's London town house. "Thank you, Fromsby. I trust you shall not fail me."
"I shall do my best, miss."
Isabel sagged against the back of a leather chair after Fromsby closed the library door. She could only imagine how the duke would take the news of her uninvited appearance in London. Especially after he had experienced an exhausting evening. He probably suffered from gout, as many men on the shady side of
Page 10
fifty did. He would probably be furious with her.
Silently she chided herself. She was five and twenty, far too old to act missish. She forced starch into her back and drew a deep breath, catching the soft scent of leather from the morocco-covered chairs and sofas. "I have every right to be here," she whispered, trying to prop up her sagging courage.
Indeed, the duke ought to be ashamed of his actions. Still, she could not stop feeling like a country mouse about to do battle with a lion. She smoothed her hand over the wrinkles in her apple green wool pelisse. Nine hours riding in a crowded mail coach did not do much for a woman's appearance.
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