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    By Any Other Name
    By Any Other Name
    By Any Other Name
    Ebook108 pages1 hour

    By Any Other Name

    By Ava Stone

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    **This novella was previously found in The Betting Season and Ladies & Gentlemen...

    Lady Philippa Casemore caused quite a scene at her very first ball of her very first season. She even landed herself, somehow, on the pages of the infamous betting book at White's gentleman's club. Unfortunately, she doesn't remember one moment of the night in question. Not the music. Not the notorious rake she'd dragged into the middle of the dance floor. Not the flask of opium-laced brandy she'd downed without realizing it's contents...

    Jason York, the wicked Earl of St. Austell, can't quite forget the lady who stole his breath away the previous night. Of course, his broken nose, courtesy of the girl's brother, did have a way of making an impression. When he stumbles into Lady Philippa the next day, his ego is more than bruised when she doesn't seem to recall him at all and a scheme to make certain she never forgets him again quickly forms in Jason's mind.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAva Stone
    Release dateJun 5, 2013
    ISBN9781301295951
    By Any Other Name
    Author

    Ava Stone

    Ava Stone is a USA Today bestselling author of Regency historical romance and college age New Adult romance. Whether in the 19th Century or the 21st, her books explore deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits.

    Read more from Ava Stone

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    • 3/5
      Short and sweet. Though set during Regency Period the language used is so this century American.?.

    Book preview

    By Any Other Name - Ava Stone

    ONE

    Lord Cleasby bets Mr. Potsdon five hundred pounds that Lord St. Austell will bed Lady Philippa Casemore before the end of the season. ~ April 19, 1813

    Berkswell House, Mayfair - April 1813

    Apounding echoed around Lady Philippa Casemore’s chambers. Or was that her head? Pippa blinked her eyes open and her room spun just a bit. She closed them quickly, in a vain attempt to halt the spinning completely. It didn’t work. In fact, she thought she might cast up her accounts right there.

    Heavens! Why in the world did her head throb so horribly?

    Pippa! bellowed a voice from somewhere close by, and the pounding in her head became louder, though she had no idea how that was possible.

    Is she even in there? asked another voice. Harry’s perhaps?

    She damn well better be, growled the first, which now that she heard it again, Pippa realized the voice must belong to Berks It was no wonder she didn’t recognize it at first. Her oldest brother very rarely growled.

    Why was he growling? And why were both of her brothers yelling at her? A groan escaped Pippa’s throat when she tried to ask.

    She’s in there, Harry said.

    The pounding resumed, more frantically. Philippa, open this door immediately!

    Pippa opened her eyes once more. The blasted room spun even faster somehow. Berks, she croaked out, barely recognizing her own voice. Come back later, Berks. I’m not feeling at all the thing.

    Open the damned door! Her door handle jiggled as though her oldest brother’s patience had been pushed past its limit. Now!

    Pippa pushed up on her elbows and instantly wished she hadn’t. Bile rose up in her throat and gooseflesh rippled across her skin. I’m ill, she called back.

    You’re not ill. You’re apparently foxed, Berks returned, his voice more impatient than she could ever remember it being before.

    "You don’t think she’s still foxed do you? Harry asked. Probably just suffering a headache, maybe a little nausea."

    That was it exactly! How did Harry know?

    If you’re not going to be of any help, you can be on your way, Berks grumbled.

    But I am helping, Harry protested. You wouldn’t even know about the bet if it wasn’t for me.

    And how I wish I didn’t, Berks said. The pounding at the door resumed. Open this door at once, Pippa, or I’ll break it down!

    Experiencing Everett Casemore, the Marquess of Berkswell in a temper was a rarity. What in the world had happened to make him so cross?

    Pippa slid to the edge of her four-poster and somehow managed to touch her feet to the rug. Her slippered feet. She’d gone to bed in her slippers? Pippa glanced down at herself, only to discover she was also adorned in her new periwinkle gown. Good heavens!

    Pippa! Berks barked.

    Must you yell? she complained. I’m moving as fast as I can. Why was she in her periwinkle gown? She’d worn it the night before, hadn’t she? To the Heathfields’ ball? Her mind was so foggy. Why couldn’t she remember? Shouldn’t she remember her very first London ball ever? She’d waited what seemed a lifetime for it.

    Pippa slowly padded across the floor and turned the key in her lock. A second later, Berks tossed her door open. Both of her brothers stood in the corridor, gaping openly at her.

    What’s wrong? she grumbled. Haven’t you ever seen a lady in a ballgown before?

    I haven’t ever seen a lady sleep in one before. Berks crossed her threshold, his dark hair pointing out in all directions as though he’d been tugging at the ends in frustration.

    I don’t think that’s true, Harry replied as he followed their oldest brother into Pippa’s chamber. There was that time with Lady Elswick—

    The glare Berks shot Harry would have halted an approaching army, perhaps even killed the entire front line. Kindly shut your mouth.

    A slight blush crept up Harry’s face. Apologies, he mumbled.

    Berks tilted his head back towards the corridor. I can handle this on my own, Harry.

    I’m certain you can. Harry shook his head. But I’ll stay, just the same. Pippa might need me.

    What Pippa needed was to sit down as the room had started to spin once again. What is going on? she asked and would have tumbled to the floor if Harry hadn’t caught her arm.

    Really, Pip, Harry whispered. Albie Potsdon? What were you thinking?

    Albie Potsdon? Harry’s school chum? Pippa hadn’t seen him in well over a year. At least she didn’t think she had. Albie?

    Potsdon be damned, Berks growled. What I want to know, Pippa, is what you were doing with Lord St. Austell last night.

    St. Austell? The name didn’t ring a bell at all. Pippa blinked at her oldest brother. I don’t think I’m acquainted with Lord St. Austell.

    Berks’s lips thinned to an angry white line. Indeed? Well, you were spotted dancing with the reprobate.

    Waltzing, Harry corrected.

    Berks glared at their brother then redirected his dark gaze on Pippa. You haven’t even gotten permission to do so yet.

    She’d waltzed? Pippa closed her eyes and tried to recall the previous evening, but her mind was all a jumble. I don’t remember doing any such thing.

    "It doesn’t matter if you remember it or not. Half the ton saw you do so."

    And then there’s White’s, Harry added.

    Her brothers’ club? No matter what she remembered or didn’t remember, she knew she hadn’t stepped foot inside a gentleman’s club. White’s?

    Berks face reddened. I wasn’t going to mention that bit.

    Why not? Harry asked. She’ll find out soon enough. Better to know now than have someone else tell her.

    Why must they speak in riddles? Tell me what?

    Berks continued as though she hadn’t spoken. Better just to send Aunt Eugenia home and have us guard Pippa from St. Austell instead.

    I don’t know why you thought the old loon would make a decent chaperone in the first place.

    So now this is my fault? Berks’s voice raised an octave.

    Pippa had endured all the bellowing and arguing she could handle in her present state. She cleared her throat and said loudly, Will you two please tell me what you are going on about? I think my head is about to split into two.

    Harry heaved a sigh and glanced at Berks as though to make sure their older brother wasn’t about to stop him. Then he said, Your name is in the betting book at White’s.

    That didn’t make any sense. Pippa blinked. My name?

    Alongside the Earl of St. Austell’s, Harry continued.

    I don’t even know Lord St. Austell.

    Well, you apparently caught his notice last night, Berks complained.

    St. Austell was overheard remarking he could bed you before the season is up. And that wastrel Cleasby wrote it up in the betting book.

    Pippa staggered backward. Bed her? What an awful thing to say. What an awful thing to write down! Who is this man?

    "The worst scoundrel in

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