Emily clung to Godric's side, nervous as they entered Cedric's townhouse. His sisters, Miss Sheridan and Miss Audrey, were inside. It was strange, but she wanted to make a good impression.Cedric caught sight of his sisters. "There you are! Come over here and meet Emily."The elder, Horatia, was taller, with more classical features, a long neck and sharp cheekbones that reminded Emily of a swan. Though shorter, Audrey was just as pretty, her face rounder and more childlike, but not in a way that hid the intelligence in her eyes."Emily, this is my sister, Horatia. Horatia, this is Miss Emily Parr. And this is Audrey." Cedric chucked his littlest sister under her chin.Horatia gave a warm smile. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Parr."Emily released her grip on Godric's arm and smiled back. "Please call me Emily.""Then you must call me Horatia.""You have a lovely home, Horatia." Emily looked about the expansive marbled floors and gilded furnishings of the hall."Oh, Horatia, allow m
Jim Tanner lingered in the alley just off Curzon Street, and bided his time. A blade lay in his palm, which he kept in the pocket of his long black coat, ready to sink it into the flesh of those pompous lords across the street if they interfered with his mission.Soon, he promised himself.His employer had urged him to wait, to snatch the girl without a fight. The order had been issued not out of any need to prevent violence, but to give Tanner time to get away before the alarm was raised. Bloodshed would shorten his exit strategy.Blankenship was a fool to want nothing more than the little chit. The house he stared at now was probably filled with expensive items he could fetch a fair price for on Shoe Lane or Saffron Hill. The nouveau riche were only too happy to buy aristocratic items that would fool the ton into thinking they weren't the descendants of lower or middleclass men.He'd been only too eager to steal the Parr girl away from Essex when Blankenship agreed to his hefty p
Heaven. It was warm and light, the soft murmur of a low masculine voice spoke to her No, read to her. The Iliad in Greek. She tried to open her mouth but nothing moved.I want to see you, whoever you are.Did she have a body?She managed a small strangled whimper. The voice halted, then spoke, more eagerly."Emily." The voice sounded like Godric, but that made sense. Heaven was wherever he was. She tried to speak again, but only yielded another pathetic whimper."Shh. Rest, my darling. You've been through so much." A large hand clasped hers, its grip warm, strong, and perfect.Lips brushed over her forehead, leaving a trail of tender fire in their wake. She forced her eyes open. Even though Godric's face was pale and his hair hung limp around it, he was still everything she'd wanted, craved. Loved. The sight of him. That was Heaven.Emily's long lashes fanned as she squeezed his hand. She gave a weak smile. Godric choked back a sob, ghostly reflections of her own pain shimmered
Lucien sat at the table in Cedric's dining room, reading the morning paper. Cedric fed Penelope scraps from his chair next to him. The dining room was large for a London home, furnished with walnut chairs and a table, all gilded with scrollwork. Lucien looked over to Ashton and Charles, who were speaking near the large wood, glass-paned window overlooking the gardens.The lords were enjoying themselves, having successfully seen Godric and Emily off on their honeymoon, and were now resting at Cedric's townhouse after the adventures of the last few weeks."Well, Lucien? Anything interesting?" Ashton asked as he took a seat, leaving Charles alone to gaze out the window, lost in thought."There's an interesting tidbit in the society pages.""Not Lady Society again?" Cedric chuckled. Penelope barked sharply at him. He reached down and picked her up, setting the foxhound on his lap. She was no longer a puppy.All things grow up some day, Lucien thought to himself."Are you going to rea
BOOK TWO: His Wicked SeductionLeague Rule 2One must never seduce another member's sister. should this rule be broken, the member whose sister was seduced has the right to demand satisfaction.Excerpt from The Quizzing Glass Gazette, September 30, 1820, The Lady Society Column:Lady Society has turned her eye this week to one of London's most notorious paramours, the Marquess of Rochester. Member of the infamous League of Rogues, the marquess is rumored by ladies of the ton as a fiery-haired devil capable of shocking delights behind closed doors.It has come to Lady Society's attention that no lady has held Rochester's interest for long. Does he secretly pine for someone of good breeding and good sense, perhaps?Lady Society would like to learn the answer to this most fascinating question. Perhaps Rochester indulges himself to ease the pangs of unrequited love for some mystery woman. Should one hazard a guess as to the unluckyor perhaps luckymaiden who has stolen our dark
Horatia pressed two slim fingers to her temples as the bouncing form of her younger sister flitted past, distracting her from her latest book. It was not the way a young lady ought to behave, but trying to stop Audrey was like trying to command a storm. Horatia attempted to concentrate on the words, but between Audrey's chaotic squirming and memories of this morning's incident, she couldn't. The remnants of her fear tasted bitter in her mouth. She despised herself for being so weak as to let such anxieties rule her. One minute she'd been enjoying a walk, and the next there were horses screaming, curricle wheels spinning and icy cold water soaking her to the bone as she hit the pavement.It was like her childhood all over again. Death had struck out at her without warning, and like last time, she'd been spared. But the event had awakened old fears. As before, Lucien had saved her life. He would never know how alive she'd felt when he'd knocked her back into the snow in the alley or how
Horatia still hadn't changed into her nightclothes. Restlessness had her up well past midnight. Knowing Lucien was somewhere in the house was unsettling, and she worried about that blasted cat. Muff should have been curled up on the extra pillow in her bed, but he was conspicuously absent. There was a chance a passing footman or maid had closed the grates around the fireplace and he hadn't been able to get back down.Unwilling to let him stay in the cold chimney all night, Horatia abandoned her room and went in search of the cat. She tried to think of all of the other places he could be, and not the one place she wished she could be at that moment. In Lucien's arms.It had been months since he'd last spent the night, and her brother was delighted to have him and Charles there. If not for the League, Cedric would have been exceedingly lonely. She knew he loved her and Audrey, but he'd always longed for brothers. It was hard to miss the way he brightened whenever his friends came over
When Lucien came down to breakfast late the next morning, he noticed both Horatia and Charles were missing."Where is Charles?" he asked, stopping himself short from asking about Horatia as well.Cedric glanced up from his plate. "He's taken Horatia riding in Hyde Park to exercise my Arabians.""Oh?" A stab of jealousy lanced through him like a hot poker. The idea of Horatia with someone elseespecially Charlesmade his vision turn crimson.Audrey was quieter than usual. Her youthful gaiety, which so often amused him when he was over, seemed to be absent.Cedric seemed to have noticed it as well. "I say, what's gotten into you, my dear? First Horatia is in a fit of the blue-devils, and now you are quite Friday-faced."It was no secret that Cedric didn't like to see his sisters unhappy. It was something Lucien understood all too well. He had a sister of his own, and seeing her upset always set his teeth on edge."I wished to go shopping today, but Horatia went riding and you've bus
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