All Chapters of The League of Rogues: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

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

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

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

Audrey Sheridan was facing the worst night of her life.Her mad dash from the seductive arms of Jonathan St. Laurent at the Midnight Garden earlier that afternoon had sent her on a reckless crusade this evening. And that mission was now crumbling around her.It was all Jonathan's fault. He had the audacity to waltz into her life at the worst possible moment. When she had decided to marry him after they first met, he'd simply ignored her at every turn. Then when she decided she no longer wanted to marry him because he continued with his cold, aloof manner, he'd ruined that as well by kissing her senseless, showing her a glorious world of pleasure she'd never known existed. And of course, he'd had to rush into the middle of her espionage training like a raging bull, insisting she was the daft one, pulling her into his arms andWell. That had been that. She'd dashed away from everything those lips of his promised and straight into this perilous situation. She'd been so desperate to for

Gerald Langley rose from the floor of the hallway of his club, his head aching. He coughed and brushed plaster dust off his body. The world around him was in a state of destruction. The dining room was littered with spilled trays of food, chairs were overturned, and the acrid smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air. The house was silent; not a single member of his club was still around. The cowards. He rose to his feet, stumbling a little as he called out for his butler. There was no answer. Even the servants had fled? He would fire each and every last one of them for their disloyalty."Clayton," he bellowed. "Where the bloody hell are you?"He stumbled down the hall into his private study. This house was the headquarters to his club, the Unholy Sinners of Hell, but he often stayed here when he didn't wish to go to his townhouse in Mayfair. Lately he had spent more and more of his time here thanks to that bitch Lady Society. He'd been so close to ending that problem once and for