The Viscount’s Salvation
(Honorable Rogue series, Book 3)
by Vikki Vaught
Coming soon, exclusively available on Amazon and will be free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers!
Coming soon, exclusively available on Amazon and will be free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers!
Publisher & Release: Enticing Pleasures Romance, November 1, 2016
Time and setting: 1803, England
Genre: Historical Romance/Regency
Length: 303 pages
Heat Level: 3 Flames
Book Description:
Vikki Vaught’s Honorable Rogue series started with the award-winning novel, Lady Overton’s Perilous Journey. Book 3, The Viscount’s Salvation, brings you her brother’s love story. A historical romance of high suspense and sensuality. Buy this book now to find out how he survived his ordeal in war-torn France!
Captain Cortland Wallingford returns a broken man. Although he’s reunited with his sister, horrific nightmares plague him. While attending Lady Billingsley’s ball, Cortland meets Lady Mary, the Earl of Melton’s daughter. Her calm demeanor brings him a peace that has evaded him since his imprisonment.
Lady Mary learns of her father’s diabolical plan, one that threatens her life. She’s desperate to find a way out of marriage to a notorious marquess older than her father.
After learning of Mary’s danger, Cortland’s determined to save her regardless the cost and offers her an escape from the earl’s evil intent.
Can his gentle Mary chase away his nightmares, or will the person who wants him dead achieve their goal before she has a chance?
Excerpt:
Clichy, France
Early October 1803
Hiding in the bushes lining the edge of the footpath, a young lad watched the horror unfolding before his eyes. A huge oak tree stood in the middle of an open field with a British soldier tied to it. He whispered to his sister, “Do not look Aimee. She buried her thin, scared, little face against his chest and whimpered. “Non, ma petite. Do not make a sound.”
The youth watched as the French soldiers taunted the man as one of their comrades brought a whip slashing down upon the poor man. Blood poured from the deep lacerations on the soldier’s back and shoulders. The officer in charge moved around to stand nose to nose with his prisoner. “You will tell us what you know, mon ami. We know you are l'infâme espion, Le Raven.”
“I know nothing!” And the soldier spat in the leader’s face. For his insolence, he received a punishing blow across his face, so hard, his head jerked back. Blood immediately poured from his nose and mouth.
Gerrard watched as another man administered another dozen lashes on the poor man’s mutilated back. Surely the stranger could not withstand much more. The soldiers would surely kill him if this continued. He had to admire this brave man as he continued to defy his captors.
The officer in charge folded his arms across his chest and huffed, “We shall give him more time to contemplate. String him up, but not tight enough to kill him, just tight enough to slowly squeeze his neck. We will leave him hanging from the tree while we meet with the rest of our comrades. I’m sure le général will want to question him further.”
He motioned to his men. They mounted their horses and rode toward the abandoned château close by, leaving their prisoner hanging so his feet barely touched the ground. The British soldier’s head fell forward, and he slumped as he lost consciousness.
Gerrard had to work fast if he was going to help the stranger. Once the soldiers were out of sight, he ran to the man with his sister following on his heels.
“Est-il mort?” Aimee asked while glancing over her shoulder in the direction the men had ridden, then looking back at him, alarm in her blue eyes.
Gerrard met her gaze and shrugged his shoulders. “I shall check, ma petite.” He placed his fingers against the man’s neck, rubbed raw from the rope tied around his throat. An erratic pulse beat, but at least it was a pulse. “Stay back, Aimee. I will cut him down.”
Gerrard pulled his blade from the waistband of his breeches and slipped the knife under the rope wrapped around the poor man’s throat, slicing it in two. Using every bit of strength he possessed in his wiry twelve-year-old body, he caught the man around the chest and eased him to the rain-soaked ground. He knelt beside him and tried to revive the stranger, but to no avail.
He turned to his sister. “We must pull him to our cave before the soldiers return. Grab his feet, and I will wrap my arms around his chest.”
Aimee nodded and did her brother’s bidding. After immense effort from both children, they managed to get the man behind the bushes, then rolled him down the hill and dragged him into their hideout. By the time they had him in the cave, they were both sweating, even though it was a chilly, wet night. Catching his breath, Gerrard left Aimee gathering their meager blankets to wrap around the man, while he arranged the shrubs they used to conceal their hiding place. Once he was satisfied the cave could not be seen, he joined Aimee.
“Mon frère, what shall we do?” Aimee whispered.
