f-0fe675f0a1f2">
Unravelling her secrets…
The exquisite designs of mysterious dressmaker Madame Belle are the most sought after in the ton, yet only a few are trusted with Belle’s deepest secret – her name.
Lady Belinda Howell has gone to great lengths to disguise her identity, it’s the only way to protect herself from the ruthless demands of her wicked father…and to protect her heart.
Until Lord Philip Macpherson walks into her salon and his scorching kiss burns a memory onto her lips that she’ll never be able to forget!
Now it’s only a matter of time before the notorious rake unveils the truth, and when he does, Belle knows that she won’t be able to resist…
The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett
The Rake’s Unveiling of Lady Belle
Raven McAllan
RAVEN McALLAN
lives in Scotland, the land of lochs, glens, mountains, haggis, men in kilts (sometimes) and midges. She enjoys all of them—except midges. They’re not known as the scourge of Scotland for nothing.
Her long-suffering husband has learned how to work the Aga, ignore the dust bunnies who share their lives, and pour the wine when necessary.
Raven loves history, which is just as well, considering she writes Regency romance, and often gets so involved in her research she forgets the time.
She loves to travel, and says she and her hubby are doing their gap year in three-week stints. All in the name of research of course.
She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her via her website www.ravenmcallan.com
Stirling Council library vans staff under the able direction of Nelson Busby
This one’s for Paul.
Contents
Northumberland
Regency England
Really, how pathetic to have been reduced to this sort of behaviour. Skulking around like a thief.
Or a peeping Tom.
At the advanced age of fifteen she shouldn’t still be able to climb trees like a hoyden or indeed if she could, she ought to reject the notion out of hand. Nevertheless, needs must. After all how else would she be able to stay out of sight and drool at the way Phillip, Lord Macpherson—the recipient of all her childhood hero worship and dreams—touched the young damsel he’d taken into the barn, and then into the hayloft of his ancestral estate? Thank goodness they hadn’t thought to close the doors where the hay would be tossed down from inside the loft to the ground. That open aperture gave her the perfect view.
Belinda shivered and went hot and cold, as she clung on to the swaying branch of the old oak tree at the edge of the meadow as if it was about to break. She stared at it dubiously,
