Table Of ContentOTHER TITLES BY MELANIE DICKERSON
Regency Spies of London Series
A Spy’s Devotion
Medieval Fairy Tale Series
The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest
The Beautiful Pretender
Fairy Tale Romance Series
The Healer’s Apprentice
The Fairest Beauty
The Captive Maiden
The Merchant’s Daughter
The Princess Spy
The Golden Braid
The Silent Songbird
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events,
and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 Melanie Dickerson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of
the publisher.
Published by Waterfall Press, Grand Haven, MI
www.brilliancepublishing.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Waterfall Press are trademarks of
Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503938649
ISBN-10: 1503938646
Cover design by Mike Heath | Magnus Creative
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
May 1813
Was this the night she would actually die of tedium, triviality, and hypocrisy?
Leorah Langdon scanned the crowded ballroom and spied an empty
chair against the wall next to Felicity Mayson.
Leorah caught Felicity’s eye and waved her over with a flick of her
hand.
“Thank heaven I’m not the only person unoccupied enough to sit with
the dowagers.” Leorah squeezed Felicity’s hand. “I was just about to find an
out-of-the-way nook and fall asleep.”
“Leorah.” Felicity shook her head and almost succeeded in stifling a
snort. “You should at least enjoy the music.”
“There’s an elderly companion by that potted plant over there.” Leorah
inclined her head toward the lady with the steel-gray curls whose head was
leaning on her own shoulder, her chest rising and falling in the deep rhythms
of sleep. The feather fan in her lap kept time with her breathing, blowing
back and forth.
“Poor Mrs. Thwaites.” Felicity couldn’t quite suppress her grin, so she
hid it with her hand. “She is supposed to be looking after her granddaughter,
who is being pursued by the younger Donwell son.”
“Let us hope her granddaughter and that younger son aren’t on their
way to Gretna Green when she wakes up.”
They were close enough to the door that they could hear the
announcement as each guest arrived. As Leorah and Felicity alternately
talked and observed the people around them, Leorah heard the servant
announce, “The Viscount Withinghall.”
She groaned, but she couldn’t help turning to see—and apparently
Felicity couldn’t resist either. The tall viscount, with his solemn black
clothing and grave expression, looked as if he were attending a funeral
instead of a ball.
“Why does he have to attend balls and be amongst society?” Leorah
wondered aloud. “He only frightens people with his cold, severe demeanor.”
“Sh, Leorah. He’ll hear you.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want that. He might come and rebuke me.”
“Leorah, sh!”
Leorah relented and lowered her voice. “It isn’t as if he came here to
dance. Everyone knows he detests dancing, and frivolity is the bane of his
existence.”
“Yes,” Felicity agreed, “but he is a viscount, and therefore he can do as
he pleases, even when there aren’t enough dance partners.” They watched
Lord Withinghall stride slowly through the crowded ballroom toward the
host, Mr. Colthurst. “He is austere, but if he were to change the way he wears
his hair, he would be quite handsome.”
“Oh, Felicity, how can you say so?” Leorah and Felicity were not the
only people in the room who were watching the viscount as he stopped to
speak with Mr. Colthurst.
“Don’t you think he’s at least somewhat well looking? He has stunning
blue eyes. And even if the style of it is too Spartan, his hair is quite thick and
dark.”
Leorah wouldn’t admit it even if she did think Lord Withinghall had
nice features. His demeanor and aloof manners completely ruined the effect.
She could still feel the sting of his remarks to her the last time she’d had the
misfortune to encounter him, a fortnight prior. His censorious tone still rang
in her ears, as he had reprimanded her for running through a maze and nearly
colliding with an elder gentleman at a garden party. She had rebuked him in
return for his reprimand of her, an unmarried lady unrelated to him. But he
ignored her rebuke and made it quite clear that he objected to her lack of
conformity and decorum.
He wasted his disapproval on her, for she cared not a whit.
“Shall we walk to the refreshments table for some lemonade?” Felicity
asked. “I’m parched. We sat in our carriage for an hour before we were able
to inch our way to Mr. Colthurst’s door.”
Leorah nodded, and they made their way through the crowd to the small
sitting room where lemonade and other refreshments were being served.
“He is very tall and has a regal stance,” Felicity went on after sipping
her lemonade. “No, Leorah, you cannot say he isn’t handsome. And besides,
he is a viscount. That makes up for a lot of shortcomings.”
They stood near the doorway where it was less crowded, and less
heated, than in the ballroom.
“If you force me to concede, I will say that he has very regular
features.”
“Regular features? Is that all?” Felicity lowered her eyebrows and
frowned.
“Yes, but his nose is too large.”
“Not overly. His skin tone is very good, neither sallow nor too tanned.”
“You are right. His skin shows good health.”
“And his teeth are perfect.”
“His teeth are good. I shall grant you that.”
“And his mouth and chin are strong.”
“True, and I despise a weak chin in a man. A weak mouth is
insupportable.”
“Goodness, Leorah. I am glad no one can hear us.”
“We are entitled to speak our opinions as we please. The Prince Regent
hasn’t passed any moratoriums on speaking one’s mind.”
Felicity continued with a gleeful smile. “There is one feature that has
always stood out in Lord Withinghall’s already remarkable person.”
Leorah guessed what she was about to say. “His eyebrows.”
“Yes! They put me in mind of a pirate. His brows are very piratelike.”
Leorah couldn’t help laughing. “The way they point straight up in the
middle. I imagine the viscount with an enormous hat, a giant feather curled
over the crown, and a cutlass in his teeth.”
“Yes, indeed!” Felicity’s voice was rising as she became more excited.
“And with a sword in his hand—”
“A white ruffled shirt with enormous cuffs—”
“Black top boots reaching nearly to his thigh—”
“And a thin black moustache!”
“Oh yes. Every pirate should have a thin black moustache.”
“Ahem.” Someone cleared his throat behind Leorah and Felicity,
