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Like None Other
Like None Other
Like None Other
Ebook51 pages39 minutes

Like None Other

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Lady Emma Bowen loves everything about her snug little house in London. Retired Navy Captain Phineas Quentin hates everything about his—except that it's near hers. Because he feels ever so much more than neighborly toward the pretty widow next door...

This short story originally appeared in The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 13, 2011
ISBN9781465872258
Like None Other
Author

Caroline Linden

Caroline Linden knew from an early age she was a reader, not a writer. She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer code before turning to fiction. Her books have won the Daphne du Maurier Award, the NJRW Golden Leaf Award, and RWA’s RITA® Award, and have been translated into seventeen languages around the world. She lives in New England with her family. Find her online at www.CarolineLinden.com.

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    Like None Other - Caroline Linden

    CHAPTER 1

    Number 12, George Street, was a lovely home. It was new, built only in the last ten years, and contained all the modern conveniences, with well-fitted windows and floors that only squeaked a little and chimneys with impeccable draw. It was part of a row of terraced houses, with a neat little garden out back and smart marble steps with a blue-painted iron railing in front.

    Emmaline Bowen loved her little home, even though it wasn't nearly as grand as the country manor where she'd once lived as Lady Bowen. Unlike Bowen Lodge, this house was all hers. She liked being able to paint the walls any color she liked, from the bright yellow of her small dining room to the vivid turquoise blue of her bedroom walls. It was a joy to open her eyes in the morning and see that blue, brighter than a robin's egg. She often lay still for a moment, thinking that heaven must be such a color. She said as much to her maid one morning, when the girl brought her morning tea.

    Heaven, m'lady? Jane blinked suspiciously.

    Emma waved one hand, leaning back against her pillows and sipping the hot tea. Just look at the sky! Can't you see what I mean?

    Jane peered out the window. I see clouds. Great, rolling grey ones. The blue won't last today.

    You're old before your time, Emma told her, putting down the tea and rising from the bed. If there are clouds on the horizon, I'd better get out and enjoy the sun while it lasts.

    Won't be long, from the looks of it, muttered Jane.

    Emma ignored her, going to the wardrobe and opening the doors. She took out her favorite dress, the yellow-striped morning gown with pale green ribbons. I'll finish my breakfast in the garden, she said.

    Jane merely nodded, with one more jaundiced glance out the window, and left. Emma shook her head as she unbuttoned her nightrail; poor Jane, to be so dour at such a young age. She must not have had a chance to learn one of life's hard truths--that sometimes the only way to keep from raging in bitterness was to smile and laugh, even if you must force yourself to do it.

    By the time she went downstairs, armored against any grayness of the day with her bright yellow dress, Jane had put together a tray with breakfast. Carrying her own small tea tray, Emma led the way into the garden, where the sun was blindingly bright. Only if she shaded her eyes and squinted at the horizon could she see the line of gray lurking in the distance. Like the sun, she ignored those dark clouds. She set down her tray on a small table in the dazzling light.

    You'll want a parasol, ma'am, said Jane. And a shawl.

    I shall want neither, replied Emma firmly. I mean to enjoy the sun this morning. But since you dread the coming rain, please go open the windows to air the house before the deluge comes.

    Jane peered at the sky. Before dinner, she said grimly. Thunderstorms, with lightning and flooding.

    Go on, said Emma, trying not to laugh. The maid cast her an aggrieved

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