Letty Fordyce waited nervously in the entryway to the Earl of Morrey's townhouse. A letter was inside her reticule, a letter full of salacious gossip, but Letty needed answers, and this was perhaps the one place she could get it.The butler appeared. "My apologies for the wait. His lordship will see you now."Letty followed the servant to a room on the second floor. She entered the drawing room and was struck by the general attractiveness of the furnishings. The Earl of Morrey had fine taste. A figure rose from a chair as she came deeper into the room. The man was tall with dark hair and striking gray eyes that made her knees oddly weak as he smiled at her. His face was attractive too, quite so, but it was his eyes that held her attention. They so reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite place who it was."Lady Letticia?" His voice was low and gentle, and the cadence of his speech held a hint of familiarity and intimacy that made her shiver. He spoke like a lovernot that she
James knelt at his mother's side, clutching her hand. Her breath was shallow and her eyes glassy, but she turned her head his way when he came into the room."My boy." The words escaped her lips in a faint whisper."I'm here, Mother, I'm here." He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, feeling the fever that met his fingertips. His body and soul filled with a bone-deep dread. "Where's your father?" his mother asked. "I want to see him."James's heart bled. His mother still couldn't remember, couldn't move past that period of her life when his father had still been alive."He'she's out hunting, Mother. I'm sure he'll be back shortly." For the hundredth time he wished that his father really was out hunting, that he had never died. Another sob escaped Letty as she got down on her knees on her mother's other side and buried her face in the bedding."Letty," their mother murmured, stroking her hand over Letty's dark hair. "I think your father is late" Lady Pembroke sounded amused, desp
Two weeks had passed since James's mother had died, yet he still felt her presence in the townhouse after he and Letty returned to London. He missed her with every breath, yet a part of him felt relieved that she was no longer suffering. She'd not been herself for several years, and he'd wished that if he could not have healed her, he could at least have her pain ended. While his heart was still broken, he knew that she was with his father now, and there, together, they could be happy. James lingered in the entry hall, hat in hand as he prepared himself for the day that would forever change his life. He was going to go and claim Gillian as his own. Publicly, in the manner she deserved. He knew she had promised to wait, and they had written to each other every day reaffirming their commitment, yet his stomach was tight with knots."James" His sister's voice made him turn. Letty descended the stairs, looking rather lovely in a simple lilac day gown proper for mourning and a shawl. It
One month laterGillian stood in the dining room of James's townhouse, her wedding gown whispering on the carpets as she walked around the long table. The guests would be arriving any minute from the church to attend the breakfast feast, but she had a few precious moments alone to admire the cook's creations. The table was laden with cakes and other delicacies, and there was an abundance of orange flowers that filed the air with their scent, making the room feel more like a garden. For so long she had been on the other side of this kind of life, the one who must be unseen and unheard, toiling away in the predawn hours and late into the night to make another person's life better. Now she was the one who would have anything she wished. It was strange rather than comforting to think about, and she knew it would take some getting used to being a lady rather than a lady's maid."Gillian?" Gillian turned to see her new sister-in-law standing in the doorway."Yes?" She studied Letty as she
BOOK SEVEN: His Wicked SecretAudrey Sheridan's eyes might have been on her reflection in her vanity mirror, but her mind was focused inward. Tonight, she was to embark on a dangerous mission: infiltrating a hellfire club in order to expose the members and their sordid acts to London society. As the secret columnist Lady Society, she prided herself on the articles she wrote for The Quizzing Glass Gazette. She did not write silly little pieces of fluff on who was marrying whom or who had worn the latest fashions from Paris wellthough she did so love to talk about fashion. Her articles were designed to push the boundaries of society. After all, the ton, if left to itself, would remain complacent and unmoved. A stagnant ground bereft of new ideas and enshrining only old ones. A place where progress would not be tolerated, let alone embraced.A smile curved her lips as she relished the thought of how tonight's foray into a dangerous club would shock everyone. She would be incognito,
Jonathan St. Laurent walked up the steps to the Sheridan townhouse, his heart racing. She was inside. The little sprite who had fueled too many fantasies of late. Her dark-brown eyes gazing into his, the deep rich coils of her russet-brown locks spread out over a pillow, her lips parted as she gasped and moaned his name. She was a woman full of passionand she scared the bloody hell out of him. She was the only woman he'd ever met who seemed to know exactly who she was and what she wanted out of life. She'd never want a man like him, not really. Her interest in him was no more than a game to her.And I'm the fool who wants to marry her, if she'll have me.He paused at the closed door, hesitating. Sweat gathered in his palms as he fought off a rush of nerves. He tugged on his riding gloves, trying to prepare himself to enter. Jonathan paused as he stared hard at the iron lion's head knocker.Last Christmas he had made a mess of things, but to be fair, she'd caught him off guard. Lucie
Audrey's breath burst from her lungs as Jonathan climbed the central stairs leading up to the other rooms in the Midnight Garden. He stopped only once, to demand a bedchamber, while Audrey shrieked until he smacked her arse with one hand. The blow hadn't hurt, but the message it sent was clearshe was no longer in charge. Normally, a loss of control would terrify her, but with Jonathan, it heated her blood. It made her feel faint.Probably because you're hanging upside down, you silly fool. She refused to let her body betray her, not when she had vowed to stop finding Jonathan attractive.He opened the door to the bedroom and slid the lock into place with a frightening finality before he set her down on the bed. Audrey's breath came easier. She would recover from being carried around like a sack of potatoes. Her artfully styled hair had started to come undone, and she pulled a few pins out of her messy locks and tossed them to the floor in frustration."Why didn't you just take me ho
Jonathan swallowed down the acidic taste of disappointment as he watched Audrey flee. The words "Will you marry me?" withered upon his lips and died. She didn't even want to hear him out. He'd given up on resisting her and had decided he would take the risk and propose. But now she didn't want him. Had it all been some elaborate game she was playing? Seduce a former servant and risk the scandal? When faced with actually marrying him, she ran away as fast as she could.Jonathan leaned back against the wall in the bedchamber, his chest tight with an almost unbearable pain. He didn't want any other woman, could have no other but the very woman who didn't want him.He glanced at the mirror, replaying every exquisite and torturous moment of having Audrey come apart in his arms. He'd received no pleasure of his own other than watching her climax. She'd closed her eyes, those dark sooted lashes fanned across her cheeks and those kissable lips parted, her pink kittenish tongue licking them
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More