Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    A Gentleman By Moonlight: Tales From Seldon Park, #10
    A Gentleman By Moonlight: Tales From Seldon Park, #10
    A Gentleman By Moonlight: Tales From Seldon Park, #10
    Ebook375 pages7 hours

    A Gentleman By Moonlight: Tales From Seldon Park, #10

    By Bethany M. Sefchick

    4/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Not yet wed, Lady Sophia Reynolds is still utterly and completely ruined.  There is no other way to term her rather dire situation.  Abducted by the man she thought was her one true love and forced to suffer at his hands, she knows that she will be shamed by Society if the truth is discovered.  The best way to keep her secret?  Find a husband.  Quickly.  The only problem is, how can she ever trust a man, any man, again?

    Lord Lewis Blackmore, third son of the Marquess of Dunleighton, is currently in the employ of Bow Street and no woman's hero.  He simply happened to be at the right place at the right time to save Lady Sophia from a lifetime in exile in Scotland.  However, he never imagined that he would see her again until his job forces him to her family's doorstep.  When he is spotted departing Reynolds House, tongues across London begin to wag, wondering if the dashing yet scarred former military man is truly courting Sophia.

    Can Sophia turn the gossip surrounding her and Lewis to her advantage?  Will Lewis agree to play the ardent suitor until the gossip subsides?  If he does, will Sophia be able to resist his charms?  Or is there more between them than a shared secret from a dark night several months before?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBethany M. Sefchick
    Release dateOct 10, 2016
    ISBN9781386313960
    A Gentleman By Moonlight: Tales From Seldon Park, #10
    Author

    Bethany M. Sefchick

    Making her home in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, Bethany Sefchick lives with her husband, Ed, and a plethora of Betta fish that she’s constantly finding new ways to entertain. In addition to writing, Bethany owns a jewelry company, Easily Distracted Designs. It should be noted that the owner of the titular Selon Park - one Lord Nicholas Rosemont, the Duke of Candlewood, a.k.a. "The Bloody Duke" - first appeared in her mind when she was eighteen years old and had no idea what to make of him, or of his slightly snarky smile.  She has been attempting to dislodge him ever since - with absolutely no success. When not penning romance novels or creating sparkly treasures, she enjoys cooking, scrapbooking, and lavishing attention on any stray cats who happen to be hanging around. She always enjoys hearing from her fans at: bsefchickauthor@gmail.com

    Read more from Bethany M. Sefchick

    Related to A Gentleman By Moonlight

    Titles in the series (24)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    Royalty Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Left To Lose

      Jul 10, 2022

      Around the time she gives up her name, it starts to feel like this entire revolution isn’t worth it anymore. The world is probably lucky that Kelian—she still remembers Kelian, in spite of everything—is there to pick up the pieces, the way he always

      11 min read

    • Article

      The stolen HEART

      May 31, 2023

      The stolen HEART
      9 min read

    • Article

      More Than A Teenage Dream

      Oct 28, 2023

      More Than A Teenage Dream
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Chicken Line

      Mar 4, 2024

      The Chicken Line
      14 min read

    • Article

      The Bridle

      Oct 10, 2021

      Saliva pooled on her tongue beneath the rusty depressor. She endured a constant urge to swallow, afraid of choking on her own fluids. The taste of metal and blood are so akin, it is easy to mistake one for the other. This early in the day, blood was

      11 min read

    • Article

      THE BLACK SPIDER Part Two

      Oct 30, 2019

      THE BLACK SPIDER Part Two
      25 min read

    • Article

      STEPPING Out

      Feb 26, 2020

      STEPPING Out
      10 min read

    • Article

      The stolen HEART

      May 24, 2023

      The stolen HEART
      9 min read

    • Article

      Priscilla

      Jan 28, 2024

      Priscilla
      4 min read

    • Article

      This Family Saga Finds Grace And Beauty In Ordinary Lives, Fully Lived

      Jun 10, 2021

      Simon Van Booy's new novel Night Came With Many Stars follows several generations of a Kentucky family, their crossroads and choices, their curses and hard memories, their luck and their chances.

      3 min read

    • Article

      Things Fall Apart: On Ali Smith’s ‘Autumn’ and ‘Winter’

      Jan 16, 2018

      It’s a care, a real care, when a writer whose work you love takes on a project like a seasonal quartet. The potential for readerly woe is plain: four novels forced into a form already replete with corny allegories and tired themes. Ali Smith begins h

      10 min read

    • Article

      The stolen HEART

      Jun 7, 2023

      The stolen HEART
      9 min read

    • Article

      Safety

      Mar 1, 2023

      IT WAS only a dream, a bad dream, and nothing else. The man in Vidal’s dream was stalking a woman, spying on her from the shadows, following her down a dark alley as she sought refuge from a downpour. The woman was vaguely familiar to Vidal, though h

      13 min read

    • Article

      Books

      Sep 16, 2019

      Books
      4 min read

    • Article

      The Wisdom of Women Shines in Najla Jraissaty Khoury’s ‘Pearls on a Branch: Oral Tales’

      Oct 22, 2018

      Long, long ago These things happened or maybe no. Let’s start with the image on the cover. Three women sit in a courtyard. One holds a long-handled pan over a coal brazier; the other two, one of whom has her back to us, hold small cups. They wear ide

      7 min read

    • Article

      I Wish To Register A Complaint

      Apr 7, 2021

      A FEW years ago the Daily Mail, technically my wife’s newspaper, reported on an epoch-defining domestic event. A certain Marion Wischnewski was said to have been mystified by receiving a series of unsolicited Amazon deliveries. A constant stream of w

      2 min read

    • Article

      Helen

      Jun 5, 2023

      She was a friend of my family—the Carlins, as I have chosen to call them. She and my father met in the fifties through the editor of the architecture magazine where she began her career. My father had taken her out a few times. They were never lovers

      30 min read

    • Article

      My friend Jackie, by Carly Simon

      Jan 29, 2020

      It was the summer of 1983 when Carly Simon, by then famous for such hits as Nobody Does It Better, You’re So Vain and You Belong To Me, attended a dinner at the Ocean Club in Massachusetts’ affluent summer playground, Martha’s Vineyard. Also there th

      9 min read

    • Article

      Priscilla

      Dec 7, 2023

      Priscilla
      2 min read

    • Article

      Drawn to THE MOORS

      Feb 8, 2022

      Drawn to THE MOORS
      11 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for A Gentleman By Moonlight

    4/5

    7 ratings1 review

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 1/5
      Utter drivel. Pure nonsensical repetitive predictable crap. One of her worst in this series. I was hoping for some much more - she had the right setting in place, the right characters but its all down the drain. Complete disappointment.

      Recommended: Absolutely no?.

    Book preview

    A Gentleman By Moonlight - Bethany M. Sefchick

    Prologue

    Late June 1820

    The Great North Road

    Lady Sophia Reynolds huddled miserably in the corner of the luxurious carriage, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as she clutched her bodice tightly, even though there was only a small, barely noticeable tear in the front of the delicate fabric.  How could she have been so foolish?  So utterly and completely stupid?  Now she was thoroughly ruined and, worse, trapped in a coach hurtling northward, directly towards a future she no longer desired.  With a man she now thoroughly despised beyond measure.  A man that, but four or five short hours ago, she had fancied herself in love with.  More fool her, she supposed.

    Come now, Sophia, my girl.  It was not so bad as all that.

    She cringed inwardly at the words spoken so coolly from the other side of the carriage, but prayed she gave no outward sign of her hurt and anger.  She refused to grant this beast the satisfaction of knowing anything more about her.

    Nor was she about to offer him any words that might soothe his conscience - presuming that he had a conscience, of course - about what had just transpired.

    I am not your girl.  Not any longer.  She made her words as icy as possible, even though her voice trembled with each syllable she spoke.  At present, I doubt that I ever truly have been.  In fact, I don't think I really knew you at all.

    I would beg to differ on all counts, especially after what has just transpired.  He grinned at her in obvious satisfaction, his perfect white teeth flashing in the dim light from the coach's single oil lamp.  And, as I said, it wasn't as bad as all that.  Dare I say that, in time, you shall come to enjoy that sort of thing.

    However in Sophia's opinion, it had been as bad as all of that.  If anything, the entire, horrible event had been far worse than she could have ever imagined.  Despite the many rumors about her over the years, she was not some wilting, delicate flower who was so innocent and virginal that she could not possibly be real.  She was five and twenty and was a London debutante in the highest reaches of Society.  She knew very well that a woman's first time with a man was not always pleasant, but she had not thought that it would be so...awful, for lack of a better word, either.

    She also knew that often times, the moment in question was forced upon a woman without her consent, especially by a cruel husband.  Still, Sophia had not thought her betrothed capable of such a horror.  Once again, she had been very, very wrong.  In this moment, she hated him for what he had done.  Even though she also knew that it would likely happen again and again, and that there would be no escaping such a fate.  Or him - the man she had once been convinced would hang the moon for her if only she would ask.  Now, he seemed more like a devil in the dark than an answer to her prayers.

    From the moment Alex had convinced her to run away to Scotland with him so that they might be married immediately, Sophia had been anticipating the moment that he would take her in his arms - preferably in a bed at his distant relative's castle in Scotland, though a bed at a coaching inn would have sufficed - and kiss her ever so sweetly before making slow and tender love to her.  In her imagination, Alex was the perfect gentleman she had always believed him to be.  She had imagined him as a kind and considerate lover who teased her to pleasure and let her find her release before taking his own within her body when they were both ready.  It was to have been a delightful and perfect night of pleasure.

    The harsh reality, however, was that the moment they were far enough away from Fairhaven, where they had both been attending Lord and Lady Enwright's magnificent end of Season house party, Alex had unceremoniously thrown Sophia onto the carriage seat, tossed her skirts up over her head and shoved himself inside of her as quickly as he could, the horrid pain slicing through her while she felt the trickle of tell-tale blood slide down her leg as she whimpered and cried, begging him to stop.  To let her go.  To not do this because as his future wife, she deserved better.  Because he loved her.

    Her pleas had fallen upon deaf ears however, and he had refused.  Actually, Alex hadn't even uttered a single word.  Instead, he had pinned Sophia down on the seat and taken her roughly, like some common whore, not ceasing until he had spilled his seed inside of her, all the while repeating that he was a man and could not help himself.  That his favorite mistress was back in London, and he had gone nearly two weeks without.  That this was necessary so that Sophia's brother could not force them apart when he found out the truth about Alex's life in London, his crushing gambling debts, his cadre of mistresses and his penchant for rough bedsport.  All things that the powerful Duke of Hathaway would use to force Alex and Sophia apart.  Because if there was one person on Earth that Alex truly feared, it was Sophia's brother.

    Her brother.  Adam.  Not the duke, though he was that as well, but just plain Adam.  The man who had watched over Sophia and cared for her since she had been a child.  The same brother she had chosen to spite over and over again, even when he tried to warn her that her girlish infatuation with one Lord Alex Selby could come to no good end.  Adam had been right.  Sophia had been wrong.  And it was she who would pay the price for her mistakes.

    The thought of her brother made Sophia cry just a little harder, even though she still did not make a sound.  Adam had attempted to warn her away from Alex so very often over the last few years.  He had taken desperate measures to save her from herself.  Despite the severe damage to his own already questionable reputation, Adam had revoked his permission for Sophia to wed Alex.  To no avail.  At the time, Sophia had accused Adam of being nothing more than hateful and mean.  Spiteful, even.  Of wishing her nothing but a life of misery to match his own.  Except that Adam wasn't miserable any longer.  He was in love.  He was happy.  And he had simply been trying to protect the sister he loved and spare her feelings by not revealing the true nature of the man she fancied herself in love with.

    Adam had known Alex was a cad and a scoundrel.  Her brother had attempted to warn her - gently at first and then more forcefully later on when she refused to listen to a word he said.  For his trouble, Sophia had called him a bastard and said that she never wished to see him again.  Earlier in the day, she had even thrown her battledore racket at his head and warned him that he should not try to stop her from finding her own path to happiness and true love.

    Now she wished that she had not done any of those things.  Instead, she wished that she had listened to Adam - the one man who had always been there for her no matter what.  For given the way Alex was now looking at her as if she was a lamb he wished to devour again, Sophia wasn't certain that she would ever see her brother again.  At least not until she had given this man an heir, cementing their union - and his grip on her sizeable dowry and inheritance.

    Money.  Fortune.  Coins.  His debt.  The demands of his kept whores.  The payoffs to the women he harmed during bedsport.  How Alex needed Sophia's funds in order to maintain the lifestyle he preferred and had come to enjoy.  All of her funds, right down to the very last coin.  Including those funds that she would not receive until she reached the age of one and thirty.

    Not just coins but unentailed property as well, including one particular family estate that Alex planned to gift to one of his mistresses and the bastard she was currently carrying in her belly as soon as he was able.  Sophia hadn't even been aware that Alex had one mistress, let alone several.  Or that he had children.  As in more than one.  None of them legitimate, though he did mention the need for an heir by Sophia herself, at least if he was going to secure his own family fortune one day soon.  Those were the only things that Alex had been able to speak of from the moment he had pulled his rapidly softening cock out of her aching body and set himself to rights.

    It was not lost on Sophia that he did not help her rearrange her skirts or clean the blood from her leg.  Nor had he drawn the coach's blinds when he had taken her, making the possibility that at least one or perhaps both of the outriders beside the carriage had looked in and seen him tumbling her.  After all, he had left the lantern hanging from the ceiling hook lit, as if he wanted them to see.  Given how desperate she now knew him to be, he probably had planned the events this way.  Damn his rotten hide to hell and back.

    Sophia would kill him if she could.  Once she gathered her wits, of course.  Whenever that might be.  Given that she could no longer even see quite straight, she thought that time might be a bit farther away than she would like.

    She glanced out the window, hoping the answer to her prayers lie somewhere in the foggy darkness beyond.  Rain now pelted the sides of the carriage partially obscuring the view, so perhaps the men had been too busy keeping the coach in check and their horses on course to look inside.  But she doubted it.  The rain was turning the Great North Road to mud rather quickly and they were moving slowly.  Slow enough that she was certain the men could look inside if they chose - and likely had.

    Sophia longed for escape.  But where would she go?  She was a woman alone on a dark, rainy night in a very bad position.  Who would take her in, even if she could escape Alex and his men?  It wasn't as if she had coins for a room for the night, though they were in the vicinity of a village of some sort.  However, at the moment, that was of little comfort.  Still, it was a glimmer of hope and she clung to it tightly, even with her hope of rescue fading as quickly as the lights they had passed not so long ago.

    A half a mile or so back, they had passed a small, worn-looking coaching inn, one with what looked to be a bull and a frog on its sign.  She wouldn't have seen it at all if not for the lightning that had split the night as they continued on past, Alex eager to reach Scotland as soon as possible.  When Alex had first reached out to touch her, Sophia had thought they were stopping for the night at the inn.  The traveling conditions were deteriorating rapidly and there was always the danger that the coach would tip over, killing them all.  She had been wrong, instead the coach plunging on into the darkness, heedless of the dangers of travel in such conditions.

    At this point, at least in Sophia's mind, even death seemed preferable to spending a lifetime with Lord Alex Selby.

    Face burning with shame, she wiped at her eyes.  No.  She would not allow him to break her.  This man had taken enough from her tonight.  He would not take her dignity as well.  Or whatever was left of it at any rate.

    Will you ever allow me to leave Scotland?  Contact my family?  Sophia rather doubted it but since she didn't wish to return to the previous subject of discussion - namely him forcing himself upon her - she decided to try a new one.  Though she doubted that this one would produce any better results.

    Alex shrugged, likely still mentally counting all of the funds he would loot from her to shower upon his many mistresses and assorted bastards.  She wondered how many of them he kept anyway.  How many children did he have scattered across England?  Then she decided that she did not wish to know just yet.

    Eventually.  He eyed her stomach shrewdly.  Once I have my heir and your brother and his friends can't use any of their trickery to keep us apart, of course.  Or to keep me from what is rightfully mine.  Not before then, certainly.  And I firmly believe that Adam and his friends, including The Bloody Duke, will certainly try.  Not that it will do them any good, of course.  When she didn't immediately reply - or throw herself into his arms, for Sophia wasn't certain what reaction he was expecting from her - he frowned harshly.  Come now, Soph.  You knew this was not all flowers and hearts, did you not?  A man has needs.  Base ones.  You know this.

    A gentleman, she snapped with as much dignity as she could muster, does not force himself upon a lady as you just did to me!

    Alex snorted.  Is that what you think I did to you?  That wasn't forced, Soph.  That was a man claiming his wife.  Even if she was unwilling, as you were.  It is my right as your husband, after all.

    We are not married, Sophia tossed back frostily, regaining some of her fight and attempting to build a wall around herself so that he could not harm her in any way again.  Except physically.  She was not a very large woman after all.

    We are now.  He grinned almost manically.  Honestly, Soph.  I thought you knew.  About everything.  About Marietta and the others.  I have gaming debts.  Every man does!  They keep mistresses too!  They have bastards.  Some men have dozens of them!  I have no idea why you thought I was any different.

    Because you were supposed to be my one true love, she thought sadly as she looked at this man she no longer knew and was quickly coming to hate.  Because you are supposed to love me above all others.  Like Lachlan does Diana.  And Nicholas does Eliza.  And my brother does Abigail.  They cherish their wives.  Just as I thought you would cherish me.

    Adam attempted to tell me about you, she began, but Alex cut her off quickly.

    And that, my dear wife, is all on you.  Not me.  He pointed a finger at her.  It is not my fault that you were so foolish that you didn't...

    Before he could finish, the coach jerked to a stop and, as Sophia had feared, nearly tipped over.  Both of their heads snapped back and Sophia tumbled backwards into her corner.  Alex, however, was furious, rage lighting his eyes and he reached for the coach door.  He seemed to know that once the coach stopped its rapid trek north, his entire plan might well unravel.  Good.  She hoped it did.  Even if she was ruined in the process.  Just so long as she did not have to spend eternity with this beast of a man.

    How dare you stop...  Alex did not finish that sentence either.  Instead, large male hands reached inside of the coach and yanked him out with a snap.  Sophia heard scuffling outside and the sound of what might have been a body hitting the soppy, wet ground with a thwack.  Good.  She hoped it was Alex.  And if it was highwaymen, she hoped they beat him to a bloody pulp.

    Or not.  Because if there was no Alex, well, at least he was the devil she knew.  As opposed to a highwayman or worse.  Which would be the devil she didn't and was possibly much worse.  Or not.  It seemed as if she could not form a clear thought at the moment when just minutes before, she had been silently plotting how she might escape Alex.  Odd that.

    Then, the hand, which she thought might have a rather ugly looking scar across the knuckles, appeared again and she yelped, clutching her ripped dressed a little tighter to her body.  What if this man meant to do to her what Alex had just done?  He might as well shoot her now, she supposed and prepared to tell him that very thing.  She would rather die than allow another man to ever touch her again.

    Until the rest of the man appeared and on the left side of his face, she caught a glimpse of a long, slashing scar that ran from his temple, down his cheek, nicking the corner of his mouth and crossing his chin before disappearing under his jaw.  Other women might be afraid of the visage that appeared before her, but Sophia wanted nothing more than to weep for joy.  This face was not one of terror but rather of salvation.  Of safety.  Of her life before.  This face was the miracle she had been praying for ever since Alex had first pinned her down on the seat.

    For Sophia knew this face.  Not well, but still, she knew it.  It was the face of Lord Lewis Blackmore, a former war hero currently employed by Bow Street, his clothing soaked through and his hair plastered to his head from the unrelenting rain.  And, if he was not quite a friend, well, then he would not hurt her.  He was here to help.  To rescue her.

    And in that moment, Sophia felt a wave of relief wash over her, one so powerful that it made her dizzy.  Just before she started to cry uncontrollably.

    Please tell me he didn't, she heard Blackmore say as her vision began to grow a bit dark and fuzzy at the edges.  She struggled to bring his ruined face into focus now.  To tell him that she was fine and to please not touch her.  However, she couldn't think or say or do anything because of the ever-encroaching blackness.  Lady Sophia?  Please.  Tell me that he did not touch you.

    She attempted to answer him.  She honestly did.  But when she tried to speak, no words came out.  The only sound she could make was a strangled cry that didn't sound in the least bit human.

    Sophia was terrified.  Of being touched.  Of seeing any one.  Of simply existing.  Yet she was just as afraid of staying in this coach one moment longer.  Of Alex returning and forcing himself upon her again.  So she decided to choose the devil she knew and hoped for the best.

    She reached for the familiar, scarred face of Lord Lewis Blackmore, confident that if she could just touch him, if only for a moment, she would find her center.  He was a military man.  He would not harm her.  And likely, he knew the truth of what she had just endured.  She did not know him well, but she understood that he was an intelligent man.  He had helped to rescue many people in distress.  He could help her too.  She hoped.

    Except that each time Sophia tried to reach for him, her fingers fell short of his person, which should have been impossible with a giant of a man like Blackmore.  What was wrong with her that she could not simply touch him?  Again she reached for him, a strangled, inhuman cry sounding around her.  Was that her?  She didn't think so.  Could it be Alex?  Perhaps.  Terrified now, she lunged for the giant of a man and prayed that this time she had chosen correctly.  That her trust was not misplaced.

    Damn it all, anyway!  He did!

    Those were the last words Sophia heard before she pitched forward and swooned into the arms of Lewis Blackmore.  Because she was safe now.  He was here and every instinct in her body told her that he would not harm her.  That a man like him who had known pain would not inflict that same pain upon another, weaker creature such as her.  And that was all Sophia needed to understand in that moment before she finally gave in to the blackness.

    Chapter One

    November 1820

    Reynolds House - London

    From the slightly harsh tone of her voice, it was abundantly clear that Lady Mary Reynolds, now the dowager Duchess of Hathaway, was beyond frustrated with her only daughter.  "Sophia, please.  Be reasonable!  You must marry before the new Season begins or you will certainly be ruined!  I am not certain how we have kept your secret for so long, but once everyone returns to London in the spring news of that night will get out.  We have been over this at least a dozen times thus far.  At least three Society gentlemen saw Lord Blackmore carrying you into the Bull and Toad Inn that night.  They know that something was afoot with you, even if they do not know the details.  If word spreads, not even Madame C. will be able save your reputation.  She shook her head.  If the blasted woman even comes back to Town.  Where are the bloody gossips when we need them?"

    Sophia knew her mother was angry with her - angry enough to swear, which was decidedly unlike her usually prim and proper mother - but she simply could not do what her mother asked.  They had been over this so many times as of late that Sophia's head hurt from all of the arguing.  However, all of her mother's pleas and cajoling and fits of anger could not change the way Sophia felt inside.

    Her mother's desires could not erase the never-ending cold or the yawning emptiness that threatened to swallow Sophia whole nearly every day since that night.  Nor could any of those harsh words erase the near-crippling fear she endured every time she thought of even being held by a man for something as simple and brief as a country dance.  Even though the last bit of her youth was quickly slipping away.

    Sophia did not care.  She simply couldn't bring herself to care.  All she felt was cold and empty.  Dead inside.  As if her life was already gone and there was no way possible to reclaim all that she had lost.  No matter her true age.

    She was five and twenty.  Not a young debutante any longer.  She should have been married and with a family of her own by now.  She could have been, she supposed, had she not acted like a spoiled child for so long and defied her brother until he couldn't endure her harping any longer and gave in to her demands.  What had happened with Selby was not her fault.  Sophia truly believed that, even if others might not.  The events that had led up to that fateful night, however?  The refusal to listen to her family, to understand that they were only trying to help?  The refusal to stop and consider the words of those who cared most for her welfare?  Well, most of those probably were her fault.  She understood that now.

    That was not an excuse for what Alex had done, certainly, and in Sophia's mind, he alone was responsible for his reprehensible actions.  She was not at fault for what he had done to her.  However she could have been more careful in the time leading up to the moment she had stepped into that cursed carriage.  In the past, Sophia had always felt the need to be right.  Always.  No one, not even her family, could tell her what to do, for in her mind, she was infallible.  Untouchable.  Too perfect to be wrong.  And that blindness on her part had led her to make mistakes.  Mistakes that had then led her to trust the wrong man.  Mistakes that she was now paying for more harshly than she could have ever imagined.

    Sophia had chosen poorly once.  What made her, or anyone else really, believe she was capable of making a reasonable, rational decision now?  Especially one so very, very important, such as selecting a man to become her husband?  If she could not see Lord Alex Selby for the snake that he was, how could she see any man for his true self?  What if she made another mistake?  This time, she might pay with her very life and that thought turned her blood to ice.

    For all of those reasons and more, Sophia simply could not choose a husband at the moment as if she was selecting a new pair of gloves.  Not when the very thought of being bound in such a way to a man - any man - made her skin crawl.  And certainly now when the mere idea of a man's hand in hers made her want to slice off the appendage before she could even feel the slightest hint of male pressure on her skin.  She had once dreamed of love and marriage and a family, but no longer.  That dream had ended back in June when she had foolishly chosen her heart over her head.  And her heart - and her life - had been shattered by the man she thought she loved.

    The only consolation Sophia took from that night six months ago was that there had been no consequences from Selby's actions.  As if to confirm that once more, she touched her still flat stomach and sent up a small prayer of thanks.  Even though she had to live with the shame of what she had endured, at least she did not have to live with physical proof of what the man had done to her that long ago night.

    However she still had to live with the resulting shame and anger, and that was not as easy to bear as she had once assumed it would be.  Then again, she was no longer the same woman she assumed she always would be.  Situations changed.  People changed.  Whether they wanted to or not.  Whether they - and others - liked it or not.

    It was also fair to say that most people did not like the changes in Sophia as of late.  Which was fine, too, as she didn't much care for them herself.  Yet she also saw no way to return to the woman she had once been.  She also wasn't even certain she wanted to try.  That woman hadn't been very nice.  Sophia wanted to be a better person.  Or at least she wished to be.

    What she also wished was to simply be left alone.  Even if she had come to accept a few months ago that would never happen.  Especially while her mother still drew breath.  And the issue of Sophia's imminent ruin still hung between them.

    Mama, we have already discussed this at length.  Adam has stated several times that I do not have to marry if I do not wish to.  So I won't.  Please.  Let this topic drop.  Sophia settled back into her comfortable armchair, determined to end this conversation before it began.  Again.  The best way to do that, of course, was avoidance.

    Not that Sophia could avoid her mother while they were in the same room, of course.  And not when Sophia had selected the most comfortable and coveted of chairs in the house for her own at the moment.  These days, she took small pleasures where she could get them, uncertain of how many more would be coming her way.  Over the last few months, Sophia had learned to take nothing for granted.  That, she supposed, was progress of a sort.  Maybe she could become a better person after all, and learn from her mistakes.  Maybe then she could be confident in choosing a husband who would not abuse her.

    In the meantime, however, she was still loathe to give up her favorite chair, the one that wrapped around her and made her feel protected.  Safe.  She did not feel that way often as of late.

    Out of all of the chairs in the green parlor, this one was her favorite, the one she had always loved to be seated in when she received callers.  But there were no callers today.  There hadn't been for some time, though that was likely because she had asked their butler, Thompson, to send people away if they came to the door to visit.  She really wasn't in the mood for company as of late.  She wondered if she would ever wish to receive callers again.  At the moment, she seriously doubted such a day would arrive.

    Not that there were any callers at Reynolds House anyway, given the current inclement weather and expected continuance of the icy rain that had begun to fall just before dawn.  Nor would there likely be any callers tomorrow either.  Or for the foreseeable future, at least if Sophia had her way.

    The Little Season had only just started, true, and the weather today was beyond abysmal, but even in the short time they had been back in London, word had spread quickly among her social set that Sophia was not receiving callers at present.  Which, of course, only added fuel to the fires of gossip.  She knew that.  She simply could not bring herself to care.

    However, her mother did care, and Mary Reynolds had launched a one-woman campaign to make certain that her only daughter's reputation remained pristine and unsullied.  Or at least tried to.  The dowager duchess spread rumors that Sophia was ill with a nasty cough and that she had severely twisted her ankle recently, necessitating bed rest.  Sophia's mother had even gone so far to suggest that Sophia might be dying from an unknown disease contracted the previous summer, which was why she was not receiving callers, praying for a miracle and that she might regain her health.

    Unfortunately no one, at least no one with any sense among the ton - though admittedly Society people with sense were few and far between - believed a word of the gossip.

    Oh, they might have believed such nonsense if they had read it in the newspapers or scandal rags, but none of the usual gossips were willing to print the stories that Lady Hathaway fed them on an almost daily basis.  Perhaps the mysterious Madame C. might have run a bit of something, but she was conspicuously absent from both London and her Town Tattler column since the Little Season began.  So the only on-dit most people of consequence remembered was the rumor that Sophia might have been glimpsed being carried into the slightly disreputable Bull and Toad Inn on a rainy June night in the arms of a scarred and rather angry looking man.

    And true or not - and in this case, the rumor was the truth - such stories had a way of taking on a life of their own.  Lives that refused to die no matter how much one tried to quash them with a different version of the truth.

    Which, of course, had left the dowager duchess in something of a quandary.  Most of Society knew - or at least thought they knew - that something had transpired with Sophia the night of Lord and Lady Enwright's grand masquerade ball.  However no one

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1