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  Intrigued by an Ancient Pedigree

  Thieves of the Ton series, book four

  Sandra Sookoo

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Intrigued by an Ancient Pedigree (Thieves of the Ton, #4)

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The End

  Beguiled on a Christmas Morning | (Thieves of the Ton series, book 4.5)

  Other Regency-era stories by Sandra Sookoo

  Author Bio

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  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the author.

  Ebooks are not transferrable, either in whole or in part. As the purchaser or otherwise lawful recipient of this ebook, you have the right to enjoy the novel on your own computer or other device. Further distribution, copying, sharing, gifting or uploading is illegal and violates United States Copyright laws.

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  INTRIGUED BY AN ANCIENT PEDIGREE © 2017 by Sandra Sookoo

  Published by New Independence Books

  ISBN-13: 9781386059516

  Contact Information:

  [email protected]

  [email protected]

  Visit me at www.sandrasookoo.com

  Edited by: Victoria Miller

  [email protected]

  Book Cover Design by David Sookoo

  Couple: SKU: REG3160HIGH, Regency Jesse Ashlee dark hair man Duke Earl dance dancing brunette open back gown bare back embrace couple| Hot Damn Stock

  Background: A sword with a red flag by A sword with a red flag | Deposit Photos.com

  Background: Medieval knight by nejron | Deposit Photos.com

  Publishing History:

  First Digital Edition, 2017

  Dear Readers,

  Adventure is such a wonderful thing, made even more marvelous when you’ve spent so much time with a couple that you can’t wait to see what they do next.

  In this fourth book of my Thieves of the Ton series, Miles and Emmaline are chasing down the legendary Lancelot Stone—a mystical gem purported to have been housed in the hilt of the knight’s sword. Along the way, they stumble into a plot that, if not stopped, will shock the world and change history, but do realize this is my take on a popular legend. Do not think this history more than what it is—a work of fiction.

  I hope you enjoy Intrigued by an Ancient Pedigree as much as I did writing it. What started with seeing an advertisement on my Facebook sidebar took me off on such a grand adventure, I envy you because you’re just now starting the read for the first time.

  Enjoy!

  Sandra

  xoxo

  Dedication

  To my dear friend Kathleen King Mayer because you always loved my historical romances. May you forever rest in peace.

  Acknowledgements

  Writing a book can be a solitary endeavor, but there are times when it’s nice to have a little help and guidance. Special thanks to the following people for input on Emmaline’s ballgown:

  Peggy Carpenter O'Keefe, Jerrica Knight-Catania, Leah Cummins Guinn, Crystal Marie, Anna McLain, Kristi Bourn, Judy Furry, Lynne Roberts, Sue Brandes, Linda Smith LaRoque, Betty Foye Mileti, Jennifer Gryner Coleman, Amber Bell Wentworth, Michele Jensen, Gail Hart, Karen Simpson, Cindy Drennan von Hentschel, Evita Perez, Marci Baun, Brea Essex, Michele Worley, Theresa Echols Haack, Angie Eads, Sheryl Hugill, Mary Dieterich, Paula Farrell, Kathleen King Mayer, Jenifer McConnell Ranieri

  Blurb

  In the hunt for relics of infinite value, perhaps the greatest treasure of all is family.

  Three months after the birth of his son, Miles Lawrence Hawkins, the fifth Earl of Archewyne, is attempting to acclimate to fatherhood, but he longs for adventure. Someone is masquerading as the heir to a powerful and ancient ducal title with the anonymous backing of other members of the ton, and Miles is asked to investigate. It would mean leaving his wife and child, yet he refuses to return to London without them.

  Emmaline Hawkins, the new Countess of Archewyne, is torn between wanting to be a good mother and wishing to recapture the excitement digging up relics and hunting treasures brings. Just as she thinks her adventuring days are over, she meets a young pawn broker questing after the legendary Lancelot Stone. Determined to retain the thrill of the chase, she stumbles upon solid proof the relic is in Paris, and convinces her husband they should investigate.

  As Miles and Emmaline chase shadows and investigate macabre sites, their steps are dogged by unsavory characters. The closer they move toward unmasking the duke’s imposter heir as well as finding the fabled relic, the bolder a killer grows in attempts on their lives. As an unbelievable plot unfolds, their only recourse is to fight, side by side, and hope that leaving staid domesticity behind was the right choice.

  Chapter One

  September 25, 1821

  Archewyne Hall, Kent, England

  “Oh, bloody hell.”

  Miles Lawrence Hawkins, Fifth Earl of Archewyne quelled the urge to grin as another soft curse filtered to his position from the connecting bedroom he shared with his wife.

  “That is not a nice thing to say, Mama.” The rebuke in his young daughter’s tone nearly sent him into a fit of laughter.

  He quirked up one corner of his mouth as he gazed into the cheval glass. “Language, my love. Remember the children.” For nearly six months, he hadn’t been intimate with his wife due to pregnancy and birthing concerns, and he sorely missed her in that capacity. That didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her incessantly, for he did enjoy spending time with her outside of a carnal way as well. “Set an example.”

  “If I were you, dearest, I wouldn’t say anything else,” Emmaline responded in a sing-song voice that only widened his grin.

  “There seems to be a spot of trouble in there, my lord.” Fegley Hudson, his valet, continued to twist Miles’ black silk cravat into an intricate knot. “Perhaps you should attend to the countess.” One of his blond eyebrows rose in question.

  Sent by the powerful Duke of Rathesborne after life-threatening events in the spring, Hudson had been installed in the Archewyne household with much speculation on Miles’ part. The man of mystery was clever and skilled in dodging personal questions about himself. It made for interesting company.

  “I have no doubt she can handle the situation.” With calm movements, he inserted an emerald stick pin into the recently completed folds. The deep green stone winked in the gaslight and put him in mind of his wife’s be
autiful eyes that had first bewitched him exactly one year ago today. Had it been merely a year since she’d crashed unexpectedly into his life? It seemed like yesterday.

  The valet, ever discreet, softly cleared his throat. “Be that as it my, my lord, your lady sounds agitated.”

  Indeed she does. And when Emmaline was in a temper, there was nothing he enjoyed more than kissing her out of it. Need tightened his groin. He wanted to do unspeakable, delectable, erotic things to her, show her the depth of his regard, if only they could grab one moment alone. “If she wants me, she’ll call.” His wife wouldn’t be best pleased if he rode in to set things right if it would undermine her authority. Already, they bucked tradition and society’s norms by keeping the children close instead of handing them off to nursemaids for most hours of the day.

  A high-pitched whine came from the direction of the bedroom. “Charles Alistair, you might be a baby, but those are my toys. Not yours.” The sound of ire in his five-year-old daughter’s voice had him stifling laughter even as pride swelled his chest.

  “Will you children please allow me two seconds of peace?” Emmaline’s tone rang with exasperation. A rustle of fabric followed her question. Then a flash of deep purple flew past the doorway as a garment was hurled across the room. “It is daunting enough to select a gown for this special night without your constant bickering.”

  “It is special because it is Papa’s birthday, right Mama?” Jane was nothing if not straightforward. She had learned that trait at Emmaline’s knee. There was no better woman to raise up his child, born to his first wife, than his Emmy.

  “It is, pet. And I want to make sure he is celebrated as he should be.”

  “Papa’s a hero.” Awe filled the little voice.

  “Indeed he is. There is no one as brave as your papa,” she agreed, and even though he couldn’t see Emmaline, her smile was audible.

  He met Hudson’s gaze and they both exchanged smug grins.

  God, I love her. Despite the trials they’d both been through this last year, he could never have survived without her by his side. Miles pressed a hand over his heart while Hudson fussed with how the sleeves of his shirt lay. The man was too sharp for his own good. And too tricky. Was he a King’s Agent? I wonder. And he had wondered since they’d trapped the Marchioness of Wellesley in a plot that ended with her incarceration at Newgate. As of yet, Miles’ close friend, the Duke of Rathesborne, hadn’t confirmed or denied that suspicion.

  As he listened to his wife and daughter laud his praises, he reflected on his life. In the six months since Emmaline retired to the country, she’d worked with his daughter, Jane, and now the child could pronounce all of her L-words properly. Three months ago, on Emmaline’s birthday in fact, his wife was delivered from the boy currently wreaking havoc on his sister’s life.

  I have a son. The fact still amazed him and filled him with pride. All of three months old, he already possessed the courtesy title Viscount Warrick. Such an enormous thing for a small baby to grasp, not that he would be cognizant of that until he was older.

  When Miles had first met Emmaline and had unexpectedly and cavalierly began a relationship with her, they’d both been under the assumption she could not bear children. Then a miracle had occurred when she’d announced her delicate circumstances, and after a mad gunman had nearly killed her on the streets of Rome no less.

  A muscle in his cheek ticked. They’d survived that betrayal and lived through others put against them by order of the now deceased Duke of Litton as well as the also dead Viscount Darnell, the man who’d become a dangerous thorn in Emmaline’s side. Was it too much to hope that this, his thirty-eighth year of life, would offer him and his wife some much needed peace from the horrors of the ton?

  The frustrated cry of his son pierced Miles’ thoughts and brought him back to the present. No doubt Jane had tugged another toy away from her brother’s hands. With a nod, he accepted Hudson’s assistance in donning a military-style evening jacket in flawless black superfine. The garment fit his frame like a second skin, which said as much to his tailor’s skill as his valet’s management of his wardrobe.

  “Are you quite certain you don’t wish to intervene, my lord?” Hudson’s lips twitched with amusement that reflected as a twinkle in his ice blue eyes. “The countess won’t take your lack of help lightly. She’ll charge in here with all the force of a thunderstorm and give you a right proper dressing down.”

  He laughed at that, for he’d likened his wife to a storm before; the woman possessed a temper the gods would envy. “Quite certain.” How much would Emmaline endure before she admitted the two small charges were beyond her domestic ability?

  Not that he’d censure her in that regard. Household tasks and parenting were not where her talents lay, and given her own unorthodox upbringing, she wouldn’t do things as society deemed appropriate. That suited him fine.

  “Very well.” Hudson applied himself to the task of assisting Miles with his boots. When the job was complete, the enigmatic man stood and gave a slight bow. “I shall leave you to your family.”

  My family. “Thank you, Hudson.” Would there ever be a time those words didn’t make his heart both seize and swell at the same time? He hoped not. For so long he’d accepted his only family would be Jane. Then Emmy burst into his life and turned his world upside down and inside out. Damnation, but I’m a lucky man.

  No sooner had the valet crossed to the door that connected to a sitting room, Emmaline entered the dressing chamber, while more or less garbed in a silver satin gown that shimmered with her every movement. An overskirt of silver lace sparkled in the low light. Her midnight hair, piled on top of her head—secured with silver combs and dressed with strings of pearls and silver ribbons—fairly called out for him to release it from its fripperies and caress those silken masses.

  Miles let a small grin curve his mouth. “Ah, Lady Archewyne, do you require my assistance? I was unsure earlier.”

  His valet’s snorting laughter lingered as that man firmly closed the door behind him.

  A squeal from his son pealed through the chambers.

  Emmaline ignored the sound as she rounded on Miles. “Of course I need your help.” She turned and presented the long line of her back to him. The creamy expanse of skin tempted him and he stifled a groan. “Please do up the buttons. I cannot reach them.”

  “Gladly.” He crossed the floor. When he set his fingers to the task of slipping the tiny silver buttons into their holes, his hands shook. “This is a lovely gown,” he said in a whisper, his lips close to her nape.

  “I agree.” She nodded and seemed wholly unaffected by his presence or his fingers brushing her skin. “I’m rather curvier since Charles’ birth and have had a new wardrobe made.” A sigh escaped her, but he couldn’t be sure if it was wistful for her figure or because of his proximity. “I thought this color was festive enough for celebrating another year of your life.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “And befitting of my new station as mother.”

  “You are a beautiful woman regardless of what you wear or what title you choose for yourself.” Miles finished the buttons and let his hands linger on the slight flair of her hips. The back of the gown, not as scandalously low as some of her other confections, still showed enough pale skin that he wished to kiss every inch of it.

  Another screech from the baby, followed by a cry of pure frustration from Jane, interrupted whatever Emmaline would have said. She wrenched away from him, and with a critical look at the various articles of clothing about the room, sighed. “Do you think you might pick up after yourself a tiny bit to make it easier on Hudson?” Her voice, high-pitched and aggrieved, cut through the haze of desire starting to wind about him.

  “I could, but perhaps I don’t wish to,” Miles responded with matching aggravation in his tone as he fought down disappointment for the loss of a few stolen moments.

  Emmaline rolled her eyes, on the verge of tears, and his ire faded. Perhaps this new life they both shared w
as too taxing on her. “Do something about your children.” She smoothed her hands along the front of her gown and nodded approval in the cheval glass. “I still must locate gloves and jewels. Since Sarah is under the weather, I’ve been at sixes and sevens.”

  “So, now they’re my children?” Miles moved toward the door to the connecting bedroom. Jane and Charles played on an Oriental rug near the massive four-posted bed.

  “They are when they’re being naughty.” She pulled open a drawer in a clothespress and withdrew a shallow, rectangular wooden box. “Or quite unruly.”

  “At least they’re not being waspish, like some people I could name, but won’t, for I’m a gentleman.” He winked at his daughter as she peered up at him. Red color burned in her chubby cheeks, a clear indication she wasn’t reconciled yet to having a brother share her life.

  Emmaline huffed her displeasure. “I am only waspish because someone is being peevish this evening.” From the box, she withdrew a stunning necklace made of diamonds and sapphires, all set in silver—part of the Archewyne family jewels—and his wedding gift to her. “You’re turning another year older, not ending your life.”

  “I am aware of that. However, perhaps this rout wasn’t a good idea at this time.” Exasperation threaded through his tone no matter how much he wished to recall it. “There is a great deal of estate business I still need to see to before we remove to London.” His son, uttering a loud and annoyed scream, put an end to the conversation. Tamping on the urge to say something he’d regret, Miles entered the room. He scooped the baby into his arms and made soothing sounds as he patted the boy’s back as he drifted back to the doorway.

  Emmaline fastened the necklace’s clasp at her nape and regarded him with tears shimmering in her eyes. “You’d prefer I not celebrate your birthday?” One crystalline drop fell to her cheek and slid down. “I only wished to show my affection and to mark the day that we met. I requested Cook make those honey cakes you particularly favor. But if you’d rather I have Willoughby turn away our guests at the door...” A rather large sniff followed the unfinished statement.