Daniel Sheffield rapped his knuckles on the door to Hugo Waverly's study."Enter."Daniel nudged the door open and sauntered in. This was not going to be good news he delivered, and he hoped playing calm would help to lessen his master's rage.They'd had a perfect plan. It shouldn't have gone awry. Once their man in Brighton had sent word Al Zahrani's ship had docked and he was making his move, Waverly had informed the Royal Navy and dispatched the HMS Ranger with orders to sink the ship to send a message to slave traders operating in English waters. No prisoners were to be taken under any circumstances.What Daniel hadn't expected, and neither had Waverly, was Lord Lennox's timely interference."Well? Is it done?" Waverly looked up from his desk covered in papers, most of them bearing royal seals."No. The HMS Ranger was intercepted by Lord Lennox's ship, which informed them of British subjects being held captive on the ship.""Lennox?" Hugo crumpled the sheet of paper under hi
BOOK FOUR: Wicked RivalsLeague Rule Number 8:As a man's independence is inextricably tied to his wealth, it is vital that no woman should be allowed to meddle with it, no matter how fine her eyes might be.Excerpt from the Quizzing Glass Gazette, May 29, 1821, the Lady Society column:Lady Society is issuing a challenge to Lord Lennox. She can't help but think he is afraid of a certain lady who is in direct competition with him.Come now, Lord Lennox, what holds you in such fear and trepidation that you cannot be seen with her in public? At Lady Jacintha's ball you turned tail and fled when the cunning lady stepped out onto the dance floor.You cannot hide forever behind your fleet of ships, nor can you call upon your friends for support. The League of Rogues are fast succumbing to the charms of Eros and taking wives. Perhaps they know something you choose to remain ignorant of? For a man of such intellect and acumen, surely you cannot let that stand.I challenge you, my c
Hands sliding up her outer thighs, raising her gown, warm breaths soft against her cheek, bright blue eyes aflame with wicked desires and the fall of pale-blond hair"Lady Melbourne?"Rosalind Melbourne came back to herself. She was sitting in a cozy armchair in a sunny parlor with blue walls. Three sets of feminine eyes were focused on her, all a little concerned. A moment ago, she'd been listening to her hostesses talk about the latest scandals and political intrigues when the conversation had turned to marriages and the men in their lives. It was only natural for her thoughts to turn to Ashton when his friends had been mentioned. And that had led to memories from the last time she'd seen himat the operawhen they'd both lost control.I should never have allowed that man to kiss me, nor should I have touched him. It was a mistake.She reached for the cup of tea nearest her on the table. "I'm sorry. I was woolgathering.""It's quite all right," Lady Sheridan said, smiling again. "
Half an hour later the coach bearing the Essex coat of arms rattled to a stop outside Drummond's Bank. It was the bank where Rosalind kept the majority of her lines of credit.Rosalind and Emily climbed out of the coach and proceeded toward the bank, ignoring the stares of men and women on the street. It had amazed Rosalind to learn on the ride over that Emily was a skilled businesswoman herself. She'd handled her uncle's accounts, then taken over her husband's once she married. Through the course of the conversation, Emily had told her a fantastical tale of abduction, intrigue and eventually love, which had resulted in her marriage to the Duke of Essex. The local papers had certainly not given any of those details.As they reached the door to the bank, Rosalind drew them up short. "Are you positive you wish to go in with me? There will be talkmore than talkif you do."With a chuckle, Emily replied, "It's been quite some time since I've been considered scandalous, so it's time to di
I own you. The words from Ashton's letter blurred as Rosalind struggled to breathe. No, he couldn't do this to her. Shock paralyzed her body, her muscles tensing painfully.The past came rushing up from the depths where she had buried it, swallowing her in its icy waters, unable to stop the memories as they enveloped her.The cold castle corridors, wind whistling through the faded, tattered tapestries. The booming shout of an angry father."You think you can tell me what to do? You little wretch! I own you, and you aren't worth the breath in your lungs!"A cup of mead exploded against the wall where Rosalind, only sixteen, hid behind a half-opened door. The aching sorrow of her mother's recent death hung in the halls like an invisible cloud. It had sent her father over the edge."Rosalind," a deep voice chided from behind the hall. Rosalind jumped, but her older brother Brock steadied her. "Leave Father alonehe's been drinking."The door crashed open as their father, Lord Kinca
Jonathan St. Laurent stood at the entryway of a fashionable townhouse on Half Moon Street. The keys to the door felt heavy in his palm, and his heart gave a quick thump. The residence had once belonged to a baron, Lord Chessley, who had passed away in early April. His daughter, Anne, had married Jonathan's friend Cedric three weeks later."Scandal be damned," as Cedric had said. Since Cedric and Anne both resided in his London townhouse on Curzon Street, they'd had no use for a second house and had chosen to sell it.Now Chessley House was his. He'd met with the butler and housekeeper, and it seemed the entire staff except for Anne's lady's maid, who had agreed to stay on with him. Yet he felt strangely off balance being the one in charge of a household.He'd spent his whole life as a servant of the Duke of Essex, only to discover that Godric was his half brother. After the late duchess had passed, Godric's father had secretly remarried his wife's lady's maid, and Jonathan had been
Ashes drifted across the fields like snow. The sight was eerie in the middle of a sunny English afternoon. The ruins of his tenant farmer's home were nothing more than blackened cinders and smoldering beams. It cast a strange contrast to the bright flowers in the field nearby and the contented bleating of sheep that dotted the roadside. A watchful sheepdog sat with them, his tail wagging in the dust. Several village children peered over the top of a waist-high stone fence along one side of the road, staring bleakly at the place that had once been someone's home.Ashton rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and loosened his cravat as he studied the ruins."How did the fire start, Mr. Higgins?"The farmer stared in bleak anguish at the destroyed remains of his home."I don't rightly know, my lord." The man scrubbed at his eyes as though to hide any evidence of fresh tears. The Higgins family had lived on this land and in that house for seventy-five years. And now it was gone. Mr. Maple
Sir Hugo Waverly reclined in a seat at the back of the card room in Boodle's Club, watching the evening unfold with little real interest. His mind was on more important matters. A cloud of cigar smoke hung at the base of the chandeliers like dark clouds, casting shifting shadows among the lights from the candles. Men threw cards upon the tables, gathering and losing fortunes over hasty gambles. But Hugo was not a betting man.If I cannot secure my odds, I will not play.The door to the card room opened, and a man Hugo knew entered. It was one of his most trusted men, Daniel Sheffield. With Daniel's help, Hugo ran the most efficient and effective spy ring in the country, which, sadly, was not saying much. Spycraft as a whole in England was woefully amateurish, and it left his country vulnerable. It also made those who took the game seriously, such as Sheffield and himself, indispensible. They'd saved the Crown from more than one foreign war, and yet they would never be given credit fo