Rosemary Rogers - Wicked Loving Lies

In the sweeping tradition of Sweet Savage Love, New York Times bestselling author Rosemary Rogers takes readers on an epic journey that spans continents and explores the depths of human passions.

Born of scandal and denied his birthright, Dominic Challenger took to the sea, charting his own future. A true rogue, Dominic answers to no one, trusting only himself. Until Marisa.

Born of wealth and privilege, Marisa is a prisoner to her fathers expectations. When the sanctuary she has found behind the walls of a convent is threatened by the news that her father has arranged for her to marry, Marisa flees...right into the arms of a pirate.

From the safety of a sheltered convent to a sultans harem, from the opulence of Napoleons court to the wilds of the new frontier, Marisa and Dominic brave all that they encounter in this thrilling age: intrigue, captivity and danger. And above all, an enduring passion that ignites into an infinite love.

...filled with adventure, excitement and, always, wildly tempestuous romance.

Fort Worth Star-Telegram

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Her golden eyes stared mesmerized into his sleepy gray ones with dark pupils that seemed to contract as recognition flared in them.

You! Suddenly he held her pinned down by the shoulders, his face staring down into hers. How did you contrive it? Did you put one of your gypsy spells on poor Donald and my ship, as well? No wonder weve had such a bad voyagea woman aboard ship always brings bad luck! What are you doing here?

There was a cruel, dangerous look on his face, and sheer desperation made Marisa shout back at him.

Youyou threw me in here last night! And if Im such bad luck, why dont you just throw me overboard and have done with it? Youre such a rotten bully, no wonder all your men are so afraid of you! Well, Im not. You cant do anything worse to me than you have already

She was appalled at her own boldness.

He shook her, his fingers digging in to her bare shoulders.

Dont be too sure of that, he muttered.

This is exactly what her many fans crave, and Rogers serves it up with a polished flair.

Booklist on A Reckless Encounter

Also available from MIRA Books and ROSEMARY ROGERS

A RECKLESS ENCOUNTER

SWEET SAVAGE LOVE

SAVAGE DESIRE

Watch for the newest historical romance from ROSEMARY ROGERS

AN HONORABLE MAN

December 2002

WICKED LOVING LIES

ROSEMARY ROGERS

MIRA

Contents

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Epilogue

To Bet with love

PROLOGUE

The Rebels

As soon as the light began to fade, the mist crept in from the forest that bounded the far end of the great park. It was just as if it had lain hidden there crouched among the densely growing trees until the approach of nightfall sent it moving towards the huge house that dominated a rise in the gently sloping groundsending long, exploratory grey streamers out at first to curl insidiously around the stone walls; and then, growing bolder, advancing like a gauzy cloud until soon the forest was quite cut off from view, and there was only the grey-white mass pressing against the windowpanes. It almost seemed to be waitingangry because it could not penetrate stone and glass and wood, but patient, too....

Mrs. Sitwell hurried to pull the heavy velvet drapes together, shivering as she did so despite a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Never did like the country very much! Its almost like it was too quiet, you know? And then the fogs hereaint like the London fogsat least you can see the street lights shining, all yellow and cheerful-like. But out here She lowered her voice as she glanced towards the vast, canopied bed that stood in one corner of the room. Tell me, Mrs. Parsons, how is it that he a jerk of her head His Grace, I meanwell, it just dont seem natural for him to be down there in his study, writing letters, with his own wife dying up here.

Mrs. Parsonss thin lips seemed to disappear into her seamed face as she pursed them. His Grace has his own waysand his own reasons. You couldnt know, of course, youve only been here three weeks. But I could tell you The woman hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening over themselves; but then, as the desire to talk to someone after all the lonely months proved too much for her, she burst out, I could tell youits a great deal stranger, all this, than anyone could guess! And of course Ive been with the familyHis Graces family that is for years. I was here when he brought her here as his bride, and I was still here when he brought her back from the Americas. I could have told, even when I was a mere slip of a girl myself, that there was something wrong....

The woman who lay so still in the depths of the big, dark bed heard them whispering by the fire. Over the sound of her own breathingeach breath more difficult to draw than the lastshe heard words:

Brought her here from Ireland, he did. He was only Lord Leo then, and no one ever dreaming hed ever come into the title like he did....

She was in that half-world that lies between coma and reality, and when she heard the woman say something about Ireland, her mind slipped back easily through time; reliving the beginning was so much more pleasant than waiting for the end. Whirling pictures slid through her mind, some of them all too clear, others seeming to curl and blur about the edges like old letters.

Ireland, and her girlhood, when no one had called her Lady Margaret or Your Grace. It had been Peggy or Peg then. Pretty Peggy, the young men had named her, bringing blushes to her cheeks. And after all, in spite of what all Irishmen referred to as the troubles, life had not been too unpleasant.

What did anything matter as long as she was young and pretty with all of her life still stretching endlessly and excitingly ahead of her? Even her brother Conals frowns and carping didnt matter too much as long as she could escape from him to go down to the village for her stolen, secret confessions to Father MacManus or to visit some of her fathers old tenants. Things were different since her father, the earl of Morey, had taken sick and finally died without, thankfully, knowing what Conal had done to keep the lands for himself. Turned Protestant, renouncing his own true faithhow could he?

I have to think of myself nowdont you see that? And of you too, sister, although you do not seem to appreciate that fact. Catholics cannot inherit land. Would you rather see all that is ours and has been ours for generations pass to the English Crown? Someone has to be sensible!

And she tried not to dwell on the fact that Conal took to going up to Dublin Castle, the seat of the English Government in Ireland, spending far too much time with the English officers who were their age-old enemies and oppressors. She hated the English! They were cold, cruel and arrogant, and they acted as if they owned even the lush green Irish earth they walked on. Conals mother had been English, which perhaps accounted for his predilection for that hated race, but her mother had been Frencha pretty, small, dark-haired woman who had always smelled faintly of lavender or verbena water.

Peggy had been thinking of her mother that afternoon when Conal surprised her crossing the brook barefoot, her faded skirts kilted up around her calves.

Why couldnt maman have lived? It was lonely, sometimes, without another woman to talk to, with only the sound of the chill to keep her company at night. If only

Conals harsh, angry voice had cut rudely across her thoughts then.

It seems I must forever be apologizing for my little sister! You see, my lord, she lacks not only discipline but also the care of a gently bred woman to instruct her in the manners and deportment of a lady.