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Caleb Talbot has been lost since the
moment he found out he was a bastard. He ran from everything in his
life, including Marah Farnsworth, a woman who tempted and terrified
him. But now he's back in London as the man he called father his
whole life is dying. And Marah is back, too... with a new beau. Can
Caleb overcome his demons and Marah's resistance too late? Or will
they discover it's never too late for second chances?
Available Now Excerpt: Caleb Talbot snapped his fingers, then motioned to his empty glass and the burly, scarred man behind the bar nodded swiftly. Lowering his head, Caleb didn’t watch as the barkeep worked his magic, he only smiled when the worn hand placed a fresh tankard of ale before him. He wasn’t quite to oblivion yet, but he was edging closer with every passing moment and he couldn’t wait until the pleasing numbness arrived and washed away all thought, feeling and memory. At the door behind him, a dinging bell signaled a new patron’s entry to the tavern, but Caleb didn’t bother to look toward the sound as he dragged his drink closer. He had everything he wanted in the palm of his hand, he had no need to involve himself in the matters of others. “Well, la de dah,” muttered one of the men down the bar from Caleb. “Look at the fancy one who just came in.” The other man’s companion chuckled, though the sound was fed more by menace than humor. “Bet he could part with plenty o’ blunt without any trouble whatsoever.” At the threatening comments, Caleb turned his head and fixed a rather bleary gaze on the doorway. What he saw there cleared his mind of the magnificent fog he had worked so hard to obtain. Without thinking, he shot to his feet, nearly knocking over his ale. At the doorway, peering around the dingy tavern and appearing as out of place as the Regent in all his finery would have, was Caleb’s brother, Justin Talbot, the Earl of Baybary. Caleb’s stomach turned at the sight of him, but his heart also swelled with love for his brother and joy to see him, even under these circumstances. At almost the same moment, his brother’s dark gaze fell on him. Justin’s reaction was immediate and palpable, a mixture of relief, sadness, anger and pity. The last made Caleb scowl, his happier feelings gone, and he grabbed for his tankard blindly before he started across the room to his brother. The brother he hadn’t seen for over six months. “What are you doing here?” he growled as he caught Justin’s arm with his free hand and pulled him away from the door and into a darkened corner crowded with dirty tables. “This is no place for you.” “Oh, and it is for you?” his brother asked. Justin pulled his arm free and took a seat. It was clear he had no intention of leaving, so Caleb flopped into the chair across from him and scowled. “I’ve been to worse.” There was a long, heavy pause before Justin nodded. “Indeed, I imagine you have.” At that moment a buxom barmaid sidled up to their table. She leaned forward, giving both men a long view of her full breasts, lifted by some kind of unseen contraption in her gown. Justin arched a brow at the lewd display, then turned away with bored disinterest. Caleb also looked, but he felt not so much as a stir in his loins. As if the young woman sensed their indifference, she huffed out a sound of offended annoyance and snapped, “Whadayawant?” Caleb motioned toward his brother. “A pint for the earl and another for me.” “Oh yes, my lords. Right away.” She bobbed out a rather snooty curtsey and flitted away. Once she was out of earshot, Justin sighed. “Your tankard is hardly half empty, you needn’t have ordered another,” he said softly. “But then, it seems you’ve had enough for both of us already, so perhaps you shouldn’t have ordered for me, either.” Caleb glared at his brother as a wave of intense irritation stole what was left of the pleasantness he had obtained from drink. “So you did all the work it must have taken to locate me, then rode three days from London, in order to judge me?” He leaned back in his chair and speared his brother with a look. “Not so very long ago, you would have clapped me on the back and joined me without hesitation.” “Times have changed,” Justin said, his angular face softening with emotion as he held his steady gaze on Caleb. “As have you, brother.” “Indeed, I have,” Caleb said as he swigged his remaining ale in one long drink. He slammed the tankard down on the wooden table with a bang that brought several faces turning toward them. “Now why are you here? When last we spoke, I told you I didn’t want you interrupting your life to find me anymore. That, at least, has not changed.” Justin swallowed hard and his eyes briefly came shut. When he opened them, raw emotion had settled there. Caleb wasn’t accustomed to seeing that on his brother’s face. “That is where you are wrong. You see, I-I came here to talk to you about our father.” Caleb tensed. This subject of all subjects was the most delicate and painful to him and Justin full-well knew it. His fist tightened on the tabletop, but he was saved from answering for a moment when the barmaid returned with more alcohol. Before she had even removed the items from her tray, Caleb grabbed one tankard and slugged half of it. She set the other one down in front of Justin and backed away without any more clumsy attempts at flirtation. It seemed even she could sense the intensity between the brothers and had no interest in inserting herself in it. “Our father,” Caleb said slowly as the alcoholic haze he had lost when his brother entered the tavern began to return to him. “Don’t you mean your father? We long ago established he isn’t mine.” Justin cast a quick glance around the bar. “Mind your voice, Caleb.” “Why?” Caleb asked with a humorless laugh that instantly faded. “Why does it matter? Why does any of it matter anymore? And why did you come here? Why couldn’t you just listen to me for once in your life and leave me in peace?” “You, in peace?” Justin said with a snort. “Oh, yes, you are the image of serenity here in this disgusting hole that is hardly fit for rats, surrounded by drunks who aren’t half the men you used to be and wallowing in pain and heartache like a child who has lost his favorite toy.” Caleb pushed from his seat in one motion that rocked the table back. Justin was up immediately behind him and the two men faced off as the other patrons maneuvered to watch, ready to be entertained by a brawl between the drunk and the fancy stranger who didn’t belong amongst them. “Watch yourself,” Caleb growled. “I don’t want to hit you.” “Yes,” Justin said with a sad shake of his head. “You do. But I didn’t come here to start a fight, though I sometimes think it might help if you could just blacken my eye and be done with it. No, I came because…” He trailed off with a pained expression. “Because?” Caleb prompted, his anger fading as his curiosity about what could bring his brother here with such secrecy and drama intensified. “He’s dying.”
Want More? "Petersen crafts a rich brocade of charged emotions and haunting secrets in a classic, engaging story." -- RTBookreviews "For a book that will bring a smile to your face and joy to your heart, pick up A SCOUNDREL’S SURRENDER on your next trip to the bookstore." - Romance Reviews Today "I’ve always enjoyed Jenna Petersen’s novels because you can always get swept away in her stories and they are a delightful way to spend an afternoon." - Night Owl Reviews
"...a first-rate love story that is both emotional and
passionate..." --
Examiner
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