NOTE: 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.”

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events

portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously.

all afternoon with a scandalous marquess

Copyright © 2012 by Alexandra Hawkins.

All rights reserved.

For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York,
NY 10010.

ISBN: 978-1-250-00137-5

Printed in the United States of America

St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2012

St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth
Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

10—9—8—7—6—5—4—3—2—1
 Chapter One

May 30, 1812, Diphill Green

Robert Royles’s broad shoulders filled the doorway

of one of the unused outer buildings as he stared
down at the sinuous length of rope that lay on the
rough planked floor. He nudged the frayed end with
his left boot, squinting into the shadowed interior.
“Did you charm the rats into chewing through
the rope, Catherine?” he asked, amused by the
thought.
The question was met with silence.
His fifteen-year-old cousin was resourceful for
a female. The burning scratches on his neck and
chest were proof that it was unwise to underesti-
mate her.
“Forgive me for not returning sooner,” he con-
tinued as if she were standing before him. “Father
and Mother have departed for the Owtrams. I as-
sured them that I would look after you in their
absence.”
No response.
His mouth tightened at her stubbornness. “Natu-
rally, Mr. Owtram will insist that they remain under
2 ALEXANDRA HAWKINS

his roof. I do not expect we’ll see them for the better
part of the week. Do you not agree?”
More silence.
“Come now, Catherine. Don’t be pigheaded
about this,” he cajoled, softening his voice as his
fingers curled into fists. “Did you really believe
Mother would take your side when she learned
about us? The worst is over, and now we are alone.
I’ve even dismissed the servants for the evening. If
you give me your word that you’ll behave, I’ll free
you and we can return to the house. A soft mattress
might improve your disposition toward me.”
Robert shifted his stance and sighed. “Fine,” he
said tersely. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
The ungrateful wench deserved no consideration
from him anyway. Truth be told, he liked it best
when she fought him. He crouched down and seized
the length of rope. She would be more cooperative
when he trussed her up. Perhaps he should remind
her of her lowly position in their family before he
carried her back to the house. He had days to play
with his lovely cousin, and he did not intend to
waste an hour.
Robert tugged on the rope, and, just as he
thought, the girl was no longer tethered to it. He
could not fathom how she had managed it. The iron
shackled to her wrists, however, was another matter
entirely. Unless his ears deceived him, he heard a
soft clink of metal from the left corner of the musty
interior. The poor girl was probably cowering in the
filth. Perhaps he should shove her into one of the
horse troughs before he touched her again. He was
 ALL AFTERNOON WITH A SCANDALOUS MARQUESS 3

not one to fuss about cleanliness, but his mother had

four days ago locked her rebellious adoptive daugh-
ter in one of the old buildings the family had once
used for storage. Her scent would not sweeten dur-
ing her incarceration.
Twisting the rope in his hands, he fought to
keep his composure. This was not the moment to
lose his temper and rush into the dim interior. Un-
fortunately, he was not a patient man.
“Why are we at cross-purposes, cousin? If you
surrender gracefully, I will unlock your shackles,”
Robert said pleasantly. Of course, he was lying.
There had to be some kind of punishment for her
defiance. While her unflagging spirit was admira-
ble, Catherine had never learned her place in their
household. Where his parents had failed, he in-
tended to triumph. Taking her innocence had been
the first step in bending the wench to his will. “You
must be hungry. Knowing my mother, she has been
feeding you bread and water. Come out from the
shadows and I shall feed you a meal worthy of a
vicar.”
The stark silence was infuriating. His face hot
with anger, Robert stepped across the threshold,
wondering if his parents would be upset if he stran-
gled his little cousin after he was finished with her
body. Perhaps this was the reason why they had not
encouraged him to join them on their outing. They
wanted the girl to disappear. As far as he could
deduce, no one would miss her.
“I can hear you breathing, Catherine. Are you
frightened?” he mocked, his muscles tightening as
4 ALEXANDRA HAWKINS

he anticipated their impending battle. “Hoping to

sharpen your claws on me, little cat?”
His smile froze as the flat surface of a wooden
shovel struck him in the face. The stunning force of
the blow sent him sprawling on his backside. Too
dazed to speak, Robert’s arms flopped uselessly
against the wooden floor.
A grimly determined Catherine stepped out of
the shadows. “Why should I use my claws, cousin,
when I have a sturdy grain shovel to break your
nose?”
She raised the shovel over her head, and this time
it connected with the side of Robert’s head. His
eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness. Catherine
swayed on her feet as the enormity of her actions
coursed through her veins. With her wrists in shack-
les, she used the grain shovel to steady herself.
There was blood on Robert’s face, she thought
dully. The first blow had indeed broken his nose.
Blood was darkening his blond hair from her sec-
ond clout to his head. Catherine felt queasy, but she
attributed her weakness to lack of food rather than
the violence she had just committed against her
distant cousin. Robert, the man who was supposed
to love her as a devoted brother, deserved much
worse than a sore head, but she did not intend to
linger long enough to be his executioner.
Worried that he might be feigning sleep, she
jabbed his soft belly with the shovel. Robert did
not flinch. Dropping to her knees, Catherine set the
shovel aside, but kept it within reach. The iron chain
linking her wrists clinked as she methodically
 ALL AFTERNOON WITH A SCANDALOUS MARQUESS 5

searched the man’s frock coat and then waistcoat

for the key. She suspected her cousin had no inten-
tion of freeing her, but he was a resourceful man.
He would have convinced that pious harridan who
gave birth to him to give him the key.
Catherine grinned for the first time when her
fingers retrieved the small iron key from the pocket
of his waistcoat. With her head bowed, she bit
her lower lip in concentration as she positioned her
wrists so she could insert the key into the left cuff.
It popped open, and she switched the key to her left
hand to release the right cuff. The iron clattered to
the floor, and she let herself feel a small measure of
hope. She was finally going to be free of this house-
hold and the cruel, selfish people who dwelled be-
neath its roof.
“Let’s see how you like being shackled, cousin,”
she taunted before she rolled him over onto his
stomach. She dragged his limp arms behind his
back and secured his wrists with the shackles Mr.
Royles had used on her after his wife had whipped
her for seducing their son.
In truth, she doubted the Royles were any blood
relation to her at all. Catherine knew the story of her
ignoble birth. Although her mother had been mar-
ried, her husband was not Catherine’s father. It was
a humiliating predicament. Catherine was physical
proof of their adultery, and as soon as her mother
had given birth to her unwanted bastard daughter,
her sire had paid Mr. Royles to take the infant away.
She supposed she should be grateful that her mother
had not ordered her neck broken. The lady had other
6 ALEXANDRA HAWKINS

children and a reputation to protect. Other people

had murdered for less.
To their neighbors, the Royleses had claimed her
as a daughter, but Mrs. Royles had revealed the
truth of her origins years ago. Catherine Royles was
born with the mark of sin, and she had spent most of
her young life paying penance for her parents’ wick-
edness.
She gradually came to despise them for it.
Catherine climbed onto her feet and roughly
grabbed her cousin by his arm. “Come along, Rob-
ert. ’Tis the shadows and rats for you.” She grunted
and strained her arms as she slowly dragged him
across the dirty floorboards. “The servants will find
you before your parents. Then again, they hate you
as much as I do. Maybe they’ll ignore your muffled
cries for a day or two.”
The servants kept to their own business. None of
them had risked their necks when Robert had cor-
nered her near the dairy, shoved her to the ground,
and ravished her with practiced brutality. During
the past year, she was not the only one to notice
him watching her in a not-so-brotherly manner as
her slender figure had gradually ripened into a
woman’s curves. They had each in turn warned her
that it was only a matter of time before the master’s
son gave into his lust. However, not one of them
had spared her the humiliation of her cousin’s
touch; nor had they come to her defense when she
told Mrs. Royles of her son’s attack.
“I wouldn’t shed a tear if those blows to your
head curdled your brains,” she muttered, breathing
 ALL AFTERNOON WITH A SCANDALOUS MARQUESS 7

heavily from her exertions. Catherine sat down

on  the floor beside the unconscious man. She
grabbed the hem of her dirty dress to reveal her
stockings. Threadbare and dirty, she swiftly stripped
them from each leg. “If given the chance, I’d dance
a jig on your grave, but your mother would see me
hang from the nearest tree for the crime. Even if I
was innocent.”
Grimacing, she put her hands on the young man
again and pushed him onto his side. Catherine
grabbed one of her stockings and gathered it into
a ball of fabric. “Open up, cousin,” she said, and
enthusiastically stuffed the filthy stocking into his
slack mouth. She picked up the remaining stocking
and placed it over his mouth, tying it at the back of
his head so he could not spit out his gag.
Catherine straightened and admired her handi-
work. Robert would be furious when he awoke, but
she had no intention of remaining to savor her vic-
tory. She stood and crossed the room to retrieve
the rope he had dropped. It took her a few minutes
to bind his legs. To ensure he was unable to wiggle
his way to the door and summon help, she used the
remaining rope to tie his legs to the nearest wooden
post.
Robert moaned and his eyelids fluttered as he
struggled to awaken.
Clearly, she had not hit him hard enough.
Still dazed, his forehead furrowed in confusion
until he recognized her face. His eyes widened, and
his body strained and bucked against his bindings.
“Good. I didn’t think we’d have a chance to say
8 ALEXANDRA HAWKINS

our farewells.” Catherine patted him on the cheek.

“Oh, don’t look so glum. Someone will eventually
find you and cut you free.”
Robert mumbled something.
She could tell by his expression that it wasn’t
complimentary.
Catherine stood and pretended to brush some of
the dirt from her skirt. “Your mother dragged me in
here to contemplate my countless sins. I would sug-
gest you do the same. Perhaps the rats will take pity
on you and chew on the ropes. Farewell, cousin. We
shall not meet again.”
Catherine ignored the man’s muffled shouts as she
headed for the door. She picked up the grain shovel
on her way out, and shut the door. From there, she
made her way to the house to gather what she
needed for her journey.
By the time Mr. and Mrs. Royles returned from
their outing, Catherine would be long gone from
Diphill Green.
 ALICE'S  PIANO

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