Robert closed his eyes as if in pain. ‘Innocent, gently bred females do not go around running their hands over naked men.’ He cursed. ‘Any men. What do you think your family would say?’
‘I’m no innocent. And I don’t care what Uncle Mortimer thinks.’ Frederica had tried for years to make him think well of her, to no avail. And now he was going to marry her off.
‘Not innocent?’ he scoffed.
With a mother like hers, how could she be innocent? She certainly wasn’t ignorant.
‘W-would you like to find out?’ Her words came out in a breathy rush, too eager, too desperate.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Because you don’t find me attractive?’
He half groaned, half laughed. ‘Not that. Definitely not that. I don’t want to lose my job.’
‘I would never tell anyone.’
‘You are a naughty little puss. Do you know that? A temptress.’ His lips brushed her ear, her throat, her collarbone, sending shivers down her spine. ‘Leave now, before I take you at your word.’
The Gamekeeper’s Lady
Ann Lethbridge
Author Note
When I started the story of THE GAMEKEEPER’S LADY my husband and I were doing a lot of driving back and forth to my daughter’s university. I would use the long journeys to write. One evening, we were coming home quite late and I suggested that I would read what I had written earlier that day. My husband, who is game for anything, agreed. So by the dim reading light I read out the beginning of the story. After quite a while of me reading and him driving, we stopped at a light and I paused to look up. He stared at me and said, ‘I have no idea where we are.’ He’d become so absorbed in the opening scenes he’d missed his turn-off. It took us quite a while to find the right road. Needless to say I never did that again! I do hope you find Robert and Frederica’s story just as absorbing as he did that night.
About the Author
ANN LETHBRIDGE has been reading Regency novels for as long as she can remember. She always imagined herself as Lizzie Bennet, or one of Georgette Heyer’s heroines, and would often recreate the stories in her head with different outcomes or scenes. When she sat down to write her own novel, it was no wonder that she returned to her first love: the Regency.
Ann grew up roaming England with her military father. Her family lived in many towns and villages across the country, from the Outer Hebrides to Hampshire. She spent memorable family holidays in the West Country and in Dover, where her father was born. She now lives in Canada, with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and a Maltese terrier named Teaser, who spends his days on a chair beside the computer, making sure she doesn’t slack off.
Ann visits Britain every year, to undertake research and also to visit family members who are very understanding about her need to poke around old buildings and visit every antiquity within a hundred miles. If you would like to know more about Ann and her research, or to contact her, visit her website at www.annlethbridge.com. She loves to hear from readers.
Previous novels by this author:
THE RAKE’S INHERITED COURTESAN WICKED RAKE, DEFIANT MISTRESS CAPTURED FOR THE CAPTAIN’S PLEASURE THE GOVERNESS AND THE EARL (part of Mills & Boon New Voices…anthology)
and in Mills & Boon® Historical Undone eBooks:
THE RAKE’S INTIMATE ENCOUNTER
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This book is dedicated to my husband, and my hero, Keith.
Chapter One
London—1816
Lord Robert Deveril Mountford propped himself up on his elbow in his bed. He brushed aside Maggie, Lady Caldwell’s waterfall of chestnut curls and kissed her creamy shoulder. ‘Two weeks from now?’
Dark eyes sparkling, she cast him a dazzling smile. ‘Evil one. Can’t you fit me in any sooner?’
‘Sorry. I’m going out of town for a few days. Hunting.’
‘Furred, feathered or female?’ She stood up, slipped her chemise over her head and reached for her stays.
He slapped her plump little bottom. ‘Whatever comes along, naturally.’ Pleasantly sated, he yawned and stretched.
Maggie sighed. ‘It is time you settled down, you know.’
Robert tensed. ‘Not you, too.’ He leaned across to lace her stays, then pulled the silky stockings off the blue canopy over the bed and tossed them at her.
She sat to pull them over her shapely legs. ‘Why not? There are all kinds of nice young things available. Take my niece. She has a reasonable dowry and her family is good quality.’
A sense of foreboding gathered like a snowball rolling downhill, larger and colder with each passing moment. It wasn’t the first time one of his women had tried to inveigle herself or a member of her family into the ducal tribe, but he hadn’t expected it from this one. He had thought he and Maggie were having too much fun to let familial obligations intrude.
He didn’t want a wife cramping his lifestyle, even if the ducal allowance provided enough for two, which it didn’t.
Dress on, Maggie went to the mirror and patted her unruly curls. ‘Just look at this mess. Caldwell will never believe I was at Lady Jeffries’s for tea.’ She gathered the scattered pins from the floor and tried to bring some order to her tresses.
Naked, he rose to his feet and stood behind her. Her eyes widened in the glass, the heat of desire returning.
He
