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Innocence in Regency Society: The Mysterious Miss M / Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress
Diane Gaston
SEDUCTION in Regency Society August 2014
DECEPTION in Regency Society September 2014
PROPOSALS in Regency Society October 2014
PRIDE in Regency Society November 2014
MISCHIEF in Regency Society December 2014
INNOCENCE in Regency Society January 2015
ENCHANTED in Regency Society February 2015
HEIRESS in Regency Society March 2015
PREJUDICE in Regency Society April 2015
FORBIDDEN in Regency Society May 2015
TEMPTATION in Regency Society June 2015
REVENGE in Regency Society July 2015
As a psychiatric social worker, DIANE GASTON spent years helping others create real-life happy endings. Now Diane crafts fictional ones, writing the kind of historical romance she’s always loved to read. The youngest of three daughters of a US Army colonel, Diane moved frequently during her childhood, even living for a year in Japan. It continues to amaze her that her own son and daughter grew up in one house in Northern Virginia. Diane still lives in that house, with her husband and three very ordinary housecats. Visit Diane’s website at http://dianegaston.com (http://dianegaston.com).
Innocence in
Regency Society
The Mysterious Miss M
Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress
Diane Gaston
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u6e532f99-518b-50e7-b1b0-12530ed23b95)
About the Author (#u987abc16-0c38-58c9-9b66-924e2d611fcc)
Title Page (#u4648f282-7a44-5ee1-8a7e-4dd98bfe78b0)
The Mysterious Miss M
Dedication (#u0b9b2b3d-976a-57ca-af1f-019c64a773fd)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
The Mysterious Miss M (#uc41db012-f101-5f24-8635-392985070f7d)
Diane Gaston
For Helen and Julie, who have been with me in this writing venture from the very beginning, and Virginia, who made our circle complete.
Chapter One (#uc41db012-f101-5f24-8635-392985070f7d)
London, September 1812
M adeleine positioned herself on the couch, adjusting the fine white muslin of her gown and placing her gloved hands demurely in her lap. The light from the branch of candles, arranged to cast a soft glow upon her skin, enhanced the image she was bid to make. Her throat tightened, and her skin crawled from the last man’s attentions.
This wicked life. How she detested it.
She checked the blue-feathered mask, artfully fashioned to disguise her identity without obscuring her youthful complexion or the untouched pink of her full lips. ‘The Mysterious Miss M’ could be any girl in the first blush of womanhood. It was Farley’s contrivance that she appear so, and the men who frequented his elite London gaming hell bet deep to win the fantasy of seducing her. Escape might be out of the question, but at least the mask hid her face and her shame.
Unable to remain still, Madeleine stepped over to the bed, discreetly tucked into the corner and covered in lace-trimmed white-and-lavender linens like some virginal shrine. She perched on the edge of it and swung her legs back and forth, wondering how much time was left before the next gentleman had his turn. Not long, she surmised. She had taken more care in the necessary toilette than usual, thoroughly washing away the memory of that odious creature who had not departed too soon for her taste.
Male laughter, deep and raucous, sounded in the next room. Stupid creatures, seated around tables, as deep in their cards as in their cups, just waiting for Lord Farley to make away with their fortunes. The girls who ran the tables, tonight dressed as she was, like ingenues at Almack’s, were meant to tantalise, but, for a select few, the Mysterious Miss M was the real prize.
Farley would not allow his prize to flee. She had learned that lesson swiftly enough. No matter. There was nowhere for her to go.
Voices sounded outside the room, and she blinked away the memory of how Farley had doomed her to her fate, or, more precisely, how she had doomed herself.
The next man, thankfully the last, would appear soon, and she had best be ready. She checked her hair, fingering the dark curls fashioned in the latest style to frame her face, a pale pink silk ribbon threaded through them.
Something thudded against the door. Madeleine hopped off the bed and hurried to her place on the couch. In staggered a tall figure, silhouetted against the brighter light of the gaming room. He stood a moment with his hand to his brow.
A soldier. He wore the red coat of a British uniform, festooned with blue facings and looped gold lace, unbuttoned to reveal the white linen of his shirt. If only she were a soldier. She would battle her way out of this place. She would be in the cavalry and gallop away at breakneck speed. How lovely that would be.
The soldier, who looked not more than five years older than she, swayed as he swung shut the door. Lord Farley’s generous supply of brandy, no doubt.
Madeleine sighed. He might be foxed, but at least he was not fat. With any luck, his mouth would not be foul. She hated a putrid-smelling mouth. With all his lean muscle, he looked as a soldier should, strong and powerful.
‘Good God!’ he exclaimed, almost tripping mid-stride as he caught sight of her.
‘I am afraid I am not He, my lord,’ she retorted. The candles illuminated a handsome face, grinning with such good humour she could scarcely keep from grinning back.
‘Yes, of course not.’ His green eyes twinkled. ‘And fortuitous for me that you are not, Miss…?’
‘Miss M.’ A charmer. She had met charmers before. The charm wore thin after they took what they wished from her.
“‘The Mysterious Miss M”, I recall now.’ He flopped down on the couch next to her. ‘I beg your forgiveness. You quite startled me. I had not expected you to actually look like a young lady.’
‘I am a young lady,’ she said, playing her part.
‘Indeed,’ he agreed, masculine approval shining in his sea-green eyes and a dimple creasing his left cheek. ‘I swear you are the vision of one. England does offer the finest ladies. I find I must apologise for this humble uniform.’
He presented her with his boot-covered foot and winked at her while she tugged on it. Though properly polished, her fingers felt the leather’s scratches and scrapes. From the battlefield? she wondered. When his foot finally gave up the boot, he nearly fell off the couch. She rolled her eyes.
He laughed. ‘Have I impressed you with my finesse, Miss M?’
