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
League Rule 17:Never let your title, or a lack of one, define who you are.Excerpt from the Quizzing Glass Gazette, September 9, 1821, the Lady Society column:Lady Society is quite frustrated with gentlemen as of late, especially those of a roguish nature. In particular, she is casting her disapproving eye on Mr. St. Laurent, the younger brother to the Duke of Essex. This gentleman has attempted a callous seduction of a young lady of the ton and then rebuffed her when she conveyed her interest. Mr. St. Laurent, you cannot play the cat to a mouse with a woman who is no longer in the game. It is over. Leave the lady be since you have no desire to marry her. Consider yourself warned."Consider myself warned?" Jonathan St. Laurent stared at the paper he had stolen from Lucien, the Marquess of Rochester. The two were settled comfortably in a room at Berkley's club, awaiting the arrival of their friends for their weekly drinks and cigars.The red-haired marquess chuckled. "You hav