A Man Most Worthy

A Man Most Worthy
Ruth Axtell Morren

Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesHe was her father's poor bank clerk. She was a wealthy young lady. Though they were worlds apart, their innocent friendship bloomed into a mutual admiration.Then suddenly Nicholas Tennant was wrenched from Alice Shepard's life. Now, years later, he has returned to London society wealthy and influential, determined to seek revenge on Alice's father–and Alice herself. But she is no longer the spoiled schoolgirl Nicholas remembers.She is a beautiful young widow of conviction and faith, raising a son on her own. Now Nicholas must look deep into his heart. For only in abandoning his thirst for revenge can he finally become the man most worthy of her love.

Alice could scarcely believe her eyes. It was Nicholas Tennent.

Was her memory playing tricks on her? Surely the distinguished gentleman looking at her was not the same man she’d given her heart to so long ago.

Nicholas Tennent. The name evoked pain and longing. For a second she thought she would faint. But she clamped down on her emotions. She had come a long way from the innocent girl she’d once been.

What was he doing here in London after all these years? Had he always been in town? Wouldn’t they have run into each other?

She began walking toward him. Did he remember her at all? He must, the way he was looking at her. His dark eyes hadn’t moved from her face.

They reached each other and she held out her hands, hesitating only an instant before she spoke. “Mr. Tennent, is it truly you?”

“Miss Shepard.” He bowed, taking both her hands in his. “Would you care to dance?”

RUTH AXTELL MORREN

wrote her first story when she was twelve—a spy thriller—and knew she wanted to be a writer. There were many detours along the way. She studied comparative literature at Smith College, taught English in the Canary Islands and worked in international development in Miami, Florida, where she met her future husband.

She gained her first recognition as a writer when her second manuscript finaled in the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Contest in 1994. Ruth has been writing for Steeple Hill Books since 2002, and her second novel, Wild Rose (2004) was selected as a Booklist Top 10 Christian Novel in 2005.

After living several years on the down-east coast of Maine, Ruth and her family moved back to the Netherlands to the polderland of Flevoland, where she still lives by the sea. Ruth loves hearing from readers. You can contact her through her Web site, www.ruthaxtellmorren.com.

Ruth Axtell Morren

A Man Most Worthy

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

He shall receive the blessing from the Lord,

and righteousness from the God of his salvation.

—Psalms 24:5

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Questions For Discussion

Chapter One

Richmond, England, June 1875

The numbers wouldn’t add up. Nick ran his ink-smudged finger up the neat column of figures and back down again.

A smothered giggle disrupted his concentration. With a frown, he glanced up from his desk, irritated that he’d have to begin adding for a third time.

He stared.

The most exquisite creature stood in the doorway to his small office, a finger to her lips. In her navy blue pleated skirt and sailor blouse, she appeared no more than sixteen.

Before he could do or say anything, she moved into his space, bringing with her a vitality the dusty nook had probably not seen in a decade.

Her eyes were wide, pleading, yet with a touch of mischief. “Shh!” she whispered. “Don’t tell them I’m here.”

He almost jumped out of his seat as she came around his desk and crouched behind it at his feet.

He drew his legs in, his eyes drawn to her slim, pale hands clasped over her knees. She lifted her head. “You won’t give me away, will you?” Her sparkling deep blue eyes looked up at his in a conspiratorial smile. They must be what the poets called violet. Another part of his mind noticed the coppery shade of her hair. It was worn down, as befitted a schoolgirl, with a deep fringe across her wide forehead, and drawn away from her face with a wide blue bow in the back. Her hair was very straight but its toffee-colored tones glistened in the bit of light from his small lamp.

A noise at the door caused him to look up again. A youth and another young lady stood at the doorjamb, their faces peering doubtfully in.

The young gentleman ran a disdainful eye across the room. “You don’t think she came in here, do you?”

The young lady, also pretty, but nothing compared to the one crouched at Nick’s feet, put her hands on the hips of her similar schoolgirl outfit and took a slow turn about the cramped space, her slim nose wrinkled. “I daresay not. There’s not space in here to hide a pin in!”