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Revenge In Regency Society: Brushed by Scandal / Courting Miss Vallois
Gail Whitiker
Brushed by Scandal After one unfortunate incident in the past, Lady Annabelle Durst knows how easily reputations can be lost. So when accusations of wrongdoings are levelled against members of her family, she automatically resent the man who brought them; believing him to be completely in the wrong. But Sir Barrington Parker doesn’t make mistakes… Courting Miss ValloisMiss Sophie Vallois’s looks and grace make her an instant hit with London Society. No one would know that the French beauty is a mere farmer’s daughter, with no interest in marriage whatsoever. Except Robert Silverton, who has other reasons for staying away from Sophie. Until he finds that than keeping her at arm’s length, Robert soon wants the delectable Miss Vallois well and truly in his arms!
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
GAIL WHITIKER was born on the west coast of Wales and moved to Canada at an early age. Though she grew up reading everything from John Wyndham to Victoria Holt, frequent trips back to Wales inspired a fascination with castles and history, so it wasn’t surprising that her first published book would be set in Regency England. Now an award-winning author of both historical and contemporary novels, Gail lives on Vancouver Island, where she continues to indulge her fascination with the past, as well as enjoying travel, music and spectacular scenery. Visit Gail at www.gailwhitiker.com (http://www.gailwhitiker.com).
Revenge inRegency Society
Brushed by Scandal
Courting Miss Vallois
Gail Whitiker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#ua95e6e58-5245-5adf-9eb4-401e8da2a1c2)
About the Author (#u8f2b2e6a-fdfc-5162-a993-0da21492b9e1)
Title Page (#uccd3e824-a041-57e3-b66a-100e031909cb)
Brushed by Scandal
Dedication (#u46bd2c55-a57f-59fb-b1f1-ea477d3d98c9)
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
Courting Miss Vallois
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
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
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Brushed by Scandal (#ucab641c8-7305-5f15-8249-575d1e1e8658)
To Mum and Dad, who continue to be an ongoing source of love and support in so many areas of my life. Thank you for always being there.
And to my good friend Lynne Rattray, who inspires me with her joie de vivre and her unflagging sense of humour.
Chapter One (#ucab641c8-7305-5f15-8249-575d1e1e8658)
It was a perfect night for sin. The mid-May evening was deliciously warm, the air sweet with the fragrance of rosewater and violets, and the attention of one hundred and forty-nine of the guests moving slowly through the overheated rooms of Lord and Lady Montby’s palatial London house was focused on anything but the young lady slipping furtively through the French doors and onto the dimly lit balcony beyond.
Fortunately, as the attention of the one hundred and fiftieth guest had been fixed on that silly young woman for some time, the chances of her making a clean escape were never very good. Over the course of the evening, Lady Annabelle Durst had watched the exchange of smiles and glances passing between Miss Mercy Banks and a certain red-coated officer, and, given that the gentleman had recently left the room by the same doors through which Miss Banks now passed, Anna had no doubt that a clandestine rendezvous was planned. A rendezvous that could only end in disaster for one or both of them.
‘Mrs Wicks, would you please excuse me,’ Anna said quietly. ‘I’ve just seen someone I really must speak with.’
‘Why, of course, Lady Annabelle, and I do apologise for having taken up so much of your time, but I really didn’t know who else to turn to. Cynthia simply refuses to listen and I was at my wits’ end, wondering what to do next.’
‘I understand perfectly,’ Anna said, endeavouring to keep one eye on the French doors. ‘Cynthia has always been the most stubborn of your daughters and if you force her to spend a month in Scotland with her grandmother while her sisters are allowed to go to Bath, she will rebel. However, I believe the compromise I’ve suggested should help to alleviate the tension and make everyone feel better.’
‘I don’t mind saying it’s made me feel a great deal better,’ Mrs Wicks murmured. ‘You’re an uncommonly wise young woman for your age, Lady Annabelle. Your father must be very proud.’
Aware that her father would have been a great deal more proud had he been sending word of her upcoming engagement to The Times, Anna simply inclined her head and moved on. There was no point in telling Mrs Wicks that her unwed state was an ongoing source of consternation to her father or that he had offered to settle not only a handsome dowry, but one of his smaller, unentailed estates on her the moment she announced her engagement. Why bother when there was absolutely no one in her life for whom she felt even the slightest attraction?
As for being deemed a very wise young woman, Anna supposed it could have been worse. She might have been called studious or obliging—agreeable, even—none of which truly described her character. Yes, it was true, she had been dispensing an inordinate amount of advice to wilful young ladies and their frustrated mothers of late, but what was she to do when they kept coming to her for answers? Their problems were relatively easy to understand and comparatively simple to fix, even if the parties involved thought otherwise.
As to the hapless Miss Banks, that was clearly a situation Anna was going to have to deal with personally if she hoped to ward off imminent disaster.
The balcony, illuminated by multiple strands of brightly coloured lanterns strung from one end to the other, ran almost the entire length of the house, but one glance in either direction was enough to show Anna that her quarry had already vanished into the gardens. Foolish girl. Did she really believe that the gardens were empty? That no one else had sought privacy in the shadowy follies and Grecian temples sprinkled throughout the trees?
Obviously not or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be led astray—and Anna had no doubt the girl had been led. Mercy Banks was as green as a leprechaun’s jacket. Barely seventeen, she was in London for her first Season, so it was only to be expected that, upon meeting a young man who looked at her as though she were Aphrodite reincarnated, she would mistake attraction for something deeper.
Anna had been seventeen once, too. She remembered all too well the excitement of looking up to find a handsome gentleman watching her; the exhilaration of his hand casually brushing hers when they drew close enough to converse, followed by the warmth of his breath as he leaned in close to whisper a compliment.
Oh, yes, she knew well the lure of those forbidden bowers. But because she had been prevented from making a mistake by someone who had noticed her infatuation and taken the time to intervene, Anna now recognised the importance in doing the same for others. Unfortunately, as she walked down the stone steps and into the garden proper, she realised she was not the only one intent on locating the wayward Miss Banks. Marching with grim resolve along the gravel path ahead of her was the young lady’s mother, determined to find her errant daughter before some dreadful misfortune could befall her.
Obviously, more desperate measures were now called for.
‘Mrs Banks,’ Anna called in a pleasant but carrying voice. ‘What a pleasure to see you again.’
Mrs Banks, a small, rotund lady wearing a dark green gown and a headband adorned with flowers and fruits of an exotic hue, paused to glance over her shoulder; upon seeing Anna, she stopped, her expression of concern changing to one of pleasure. ‘Why, Lady Annabelle, how nice to see you again. It must be nearly a month since we last had an opportunity to chat. Lady Falconer’s musicale, wasn’t it?’
Anna inclined her head. ‘I do believe it was.’
‘I thought so. Dreadful soprano. I vow my ears rang most painfully for the rest of the night,’ Mrs Banks said with a frown. ‘But what are you doing out here all on your own?’
‘The house was so warm, I thought to enjoy a quiet stroll through the gardens,’ Anna said, keeping her voice light and her words casual. ‘But where is Mr Banks this evening? I take it he did come with you.’
‘Oh, yes, albeit reluctantly. He’s not much into these society affairs, but I told him we must make an effort if we hope to settle Mercy in an advantageous marriage.’ Mrs Banks sighed. ‘For his sake, I hope she finds a husband sooner rather than later. He’s that anxious to get back home.’
‘I’m sure it will be sooner,’ Anna said, heart jumping as she caught sight of a red coat just beyond Mrs Banks’s right shoulder. ‘But I wonder, Mrs Banks, if you’ve seen the new fountain Lady Montby recently had installed over by the reflecting pool? It really is quite spectacular.’
‘I’m sure it is, but at the moment, I am more concerned with finding Mercy.’
‘Really?’ Anna affected a look of confusion. ‘I am quite sure I saw her inside the house.’
‘You did? Where?’
‘Heading in the direction of the music room.’
Mrs Banks rolled her eyes, but Anna noticed a definite softening in the lines of tension around her mouth. ‘I might have known. Someone told Mercy that Lady Montby had recently acquired a new pianoforte and naturally she was anxious to see it. The child is quite musically gifted,’ her mother confided proudly. ‘And while I take care not to compliment her too much, I am hopeful it will help in the quest to find her the right kind of husband.’
‘I’m sure she will do you both proud,’ Anna said, slipping her arm through the older woman’s and turning her around. ‘But as long as we’re heading back inside, why don’t we take a peek at the fountain? It will only take a moment, and then you can carry on and look for your daughter.’
Obviously deciding it was a good idea, Mrs Banks made no demur as Anna led her in the direction of the fountain, which was indeed a spectacular affair, and which, more importantly, was located at the opposite end of the garden from where Anna suspected Mercy and her officer were hiding. Once there, she introduced Mrs Banks to Mrs Wicks, who immediately launched into a diatribe about the difficulties of presenting ungrateful daughters to society, whereupon Mrs Banks said how thankful she was that she only had one daughter to marry off, rather than three.
Anna left the two women happily commiserating with one another and quickly retraced her steps. She was almost at the far end of the path when Miss Banks stepped out, her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes wide with apprehension. ‘Lady Annabelle!’
‘Miss Banks. Enjoying a few minutes alone in the garden?’ she asked pointedly.
‘Yes! That is … no. That is … oh dear.’ The girl looked up and the expression on Anna’s face turned her cheeks an even brighter shade of red. ‘Please tell me Mama didn’t know where I was.’
‘She did not, but only because I suggested you were still inside the house,’ Anna said. ‘If she had caught you and your young man out here together, the consequences would have been dire!’
The girl’s pretty face fell. ‘I know. And I promise I won’t do it again. It’s just that …’
When she broke off blushing, Anna prayed the silly girl hadn’t done anything irredeemably stupid. ‘It’s just that what?’
Mercy sighed. ‘He said it would be all right. He told me … he loved me.’
Of course he had, Anna thought drily. Was a declaration of love not the most common justification for inappropriate behaviour on a young man’s part? ‘Then I take leave to tell you that he had a very poor way of showing it. Has he secured your father’s permission to speak to you?’
