"Certainly not," Antoinette answered. "I have not summoned anyone since you and Angelo. I have been spending my time doing useful things, like studying herbs." And publishing a book of herbology, full of the healing properties of plants and recipes for making soaps and bath oils.
"Well, he is here anyway," said Lady Lettice.
"What does he want?" Melinda asked.
"I do not know. I did not stay to chat with him."
"He wants her to come back later," Penelope said helpfully. "He wants to explain everything to her. He said..."
"Yes, thank you, Penelope," Lady Lettice interrupted. "That is enough."
Penelope grinned.
"Will you talk to him?" Cassie asked Lady Lettice.
Lady Lettice shrugged carelessly, but she would not quite meet their eyes. "Perhaps. It would be—interesting to hear what he has to say."
"But even if you talk to him, you will not just—go, as Louisa did, will you?" Cassie asked. She rather liked having Lady Lettice's company. And the children adored her; they would howl with laughter whenever she did her walk-through-walls trick.
"Certainly not," Lady Lettice said. "Jean-Pierre and I are not like Louisa and her husband. William loved Louisa truly in the end. Jean-Pierre—well, I am not certain why he is here, but I do know that he does not love me."
With that, she turned and left the room, so agitated that she did not see Phillip standing there, and floated right over him.
Phillip studied the company gathered there and laughed. "Well! Is this a soiree and I am not invited?"
"Papa!" Penelope and Edward shouted. They both ran across the room and leapt on their father.
Phillip knelt down and kissed them both. "You two are behaving as if you have not seen me in a year, when it has only been since breakfast."
"It has been a very long time since breakfast, Papa," Penelope said.
"Indeed it has, my poppet." Holding a child under each arm, Phillip stood and faced the cluster of ladies.
"We were helping your mother decide which jewels to take to Bath," Cassie explained.
"And did you make a decision?" Phillip asked.
"Oh, yes!" Melinda said happily. "All of them. There is simply no predicting what sort of things we will be invited to in Bath. Now, I should go and be sure my maid has finished all my packing." She came and held out her hands for the children. "Why don't you come with your grandmama, Penny and Eddy, and help me."
When they were gone, Antoinette picked up baby Louisa's basket and carried it to the door. "I should finish my packing, as well. Louisa can advise me. One is never too young to learn about fashion," she said.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Phillip drew Cassie into his arms for a lingering kiss.
"Ah, alone at last," he murmured against her neck.
"Yes. I just love the subtle way Antoinette and your mother herded the children out the door." Cassie pulled him closer to her and leaned her head back with a blissful sigh as his teeth found her sensitive earlobe. "Not that I am not delighted, my dear, but why are you here? You usually work straight through to teatime."
He leaned away to gesture toward the papers he had dropped when the children came rushing at him. "I wanted to ask you your opinion on some of today's work. Or perhaps I should have asked Penelope. She can already name the entire pantheon of gods. But all of that can wait." He pulled her close again.
Cassie briefly debated whether she should tell him about the return of Jean-Pierre, but then decided that that, too, could wait. She lost herself in his ardent kiss.
Children, work, Bath, ghosts—all that could wait. This time was just for them.
The End
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A LADY IN DISGUISE
Lessons in Temptation
Book Two
Excerpt from
A Lady in Disguise
Lessons in Temptation
Book Two
by
Amanda McCabe
Award-winning Author
A LADY IN DISGUISE
Reviews & Accolades
"Treat yourself to a sometimes serious, often fun, and an all-around entertaining read"
~Romance Reviews Today
June 1814
"Emma, dear! Close that window and sit down. You must cease behaving like a gawking peasant this instant."
Lady Emma Weston sighed at her aunt's words and at the bang of her walking stick against the carriage floor. That admonishing sound was as familiar to her as her own voice, and she knew it meant she had best obey with alacrity. She took a deep breath of cool, blessed fresh air, then ducked back into her seat and let her maid, Natasha, close the window. They had traveled for so long, for what seemed like eternity, and the carriage had become stuffy and dull, with only the occasional glimpse of passing scenery on the Dover Road to relieve the monotony.
Just like my life, Emma thought wryly. She had hoped the journey to England as part of Tsar Alexander's retinue to attend the peace celebrations would bring some excitement, some magic into her existence. She had been born in England but had not seen it since she was six years old—since her parents died so tragically young and she went to live with her aunt and uncle in Russia.
Yet, now she realized this voyage was just more of the same, more of the rules and protocols she had lived under in her aunt and uncle's home. More of maintaining perfect outward decorum, while screaming inside for something, anything, different.
Her aunt—the sister of her late mother and long married to a Russian nobleman—loved her. Emma knew that. Yet Aunt Lydia and Uncle Nicholas had a position to maintain, and it was Emma's duty to help them do that. She did not mind, truly—they had given her a home when she was young and frightened, had looked after her, cared for her when she was scared and bewildered by her sudden change of homes. But, oh! How she had dreamed of what things would be like once the hated Napoleon was driven from Russia and she could leave her family's country estate and be presented at the court in St. Petersburg! Books, her only real companions, had fueled fantastical dreams of handsome dance partners, beautiful gowns, dashing sleigh rides and skating parties.
Emma sighed, and shifted restlessly on the carriage seat.
She had the gowns now, to be sure, but not much else. Every handsome young man who dared to approach her was frightened away by her aunt's stern glances or her uncle's lofty position as one of the Tsar's chief advisors.
Now she was on her way to London, one of the greatest cities in all the world! Not only that, but her nineteenth birthday was fast approaching, and she would at last be considered grown up, a lady. The world should be a glorious place for her. But all she saw stretching ahead of her was more rules, more restrictions, more protocol.
She almost sighed again and slumped back against the cushions, but she managed to stop herself in time. A lady maintained proper posture at all times. She always appeared serene and cheerful. She never laughed too loud or danced too long with any one partner.
Natasha reached up to fuss with Emma's bow-trimmed bonnet and the collar of her blue velvet spencer, while her aunt peered at her closely.
Aunt Lydia, the Countess Suvarova, looked far younger than her fifty-something years, and her green eyes were sharper than those of many a young miss. Or of any sharpshooter in the army, which was a more apt description, since Emma always felt she was caught in the fireline when her aunt looked at her in that way. Aunt Lydia folded her gray-gloved hands atop the ivory head of her stick and continued to watch Emma. Her expression was fond but exasperated, like a mother's looking at a toddler who had spilled its milk for the fourth time.
"Were you looking at those soldiers, Emma?" she asked.
"Indeed, no, Aunt Lydia!" Emma protested. She hadn't been watching the Tsar's outriders in their handsome green uniforms—she knew that was a waste of time. Aunt Lydia would surely n
ever approve of any of them, even if Emma did see one she liked. "I was looking at the scenery."
Aunt Lydia glanced briefly out the window, at the passing hedgerows and meadows. "It does not look like something that would engage your interest."
"I have not seen England in a very long time. And anything is better than being on that ship, with only water to look at."
Lydia's expression softened. "Poor Emma. We have been traveling a very long while. And we have not seen your uncle since he came to England with the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg in March. But we will soon be in London, and things will be more interesting for you there."
Interesting if one enjoyed state dinners and balls where one could only dance with elderly relatives, Emma thought. She just smiled at her aunt, though, and said, "Of course. It will be wonderful to see Uncle Nicholas again."
Lydia gave her a sly little glance. "A young man called Sir Jeremy Ashbey will be there, as well. Your uncle has written to me about how much he likes him. Perhaps we will meet him at the military review tomorrow."
Emma looked at her, puzzled. Whoever was Sir Jeremy Ashbey? An Englishman her uncle knew? She could not recall her uncle or her aunt ever mentioning him. "Sir Jeremy Ashbey?"
"Perhaps you heard of him when you were a child. His family's estate marches with the one your parents left you, Weston Manor."
Since Emma's parents had died when she was six and she had been in Russia ever since, it was hardly surprising that she did not remember him being mentioned. She shook her head.
"He was attached to the British embassy in St. Petersburg but returned to England with the Grand Duchess's party. Your uncle writes that he is very impressed with his manners."
Emma felt a faint stirring of interest and trepidation, perhaps even dread. This was the first time her aunt had ever spoken of any young man, except to warn Emma to stay away from them all. Who was this Sir Jeremy Ashbey, and what did her praise of him mean? Surely if her aunt and uncle liked him, he lived a life just like theirs—bound by duty.
Her questions would have to wait, however, for they had at long last reached the edge of London itself.
Emma leaned over as far as she dared to watch the city move past the window. London was very different from St. Petersburg with its gold and cream and pale blue colors and canal-laced streets. The colors here were darker, the houses narrower, the streets crowded with excited merrymakers. The carriage jostled as it struck the uneven cobbles of the city streets.
She was rather disappointed by the lack of bright colors, but she was enthralled by the shop window displays. They passed drapers, stationers, confectioners, booksellers, all with windows full of shimmering, enticing goods and draped with flags and bunting. She wondered if she could persuade her aunt to agree to a shopping expedition later.
Yet, even more enthralling than the shops were the people. People in simple attire stood on the walkways alongside well-dressed individuals, jostling to watch the carriages pass, hoping for a glimpse of the Tsar himself. One little girl, an adorable cherub in a pink muslin dress and tiny straw bonnet, looked so amazed and wide-eyed that Emma could not help but wave at her.
The delighted child waved back.
"Emma!" Aunt Lydia cried disapprovingly. "Do not wave."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Lydia." Emma folded her hands demurely in her lap, but she could not quell her growing excitement.
London was truly splendid, so full of glorious life and energy. If only she could walk about and explore it all, really take it all in! She wanted to smell all the strange scents, talk to people, hear them. Not just peer at them from inside the carriage.
A Lady in Disguise
Lessons in Temptation
Book Two
by
Amanda McCabe
~
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A Lady in Disguise
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Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance at the age of sixteen—a vast historical epic starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class (and her parents wondered why math was not her strongest subject).
She's never since used algebra, but her books (set in a variety of time periods—Regency, Victorian, Tudor, Renaissance, and 1920s) have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA Award, the Romantic Times BOOKReviews Reviewers' Choice Award, the Booksellers Best, the National Readers Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with a menagerie of two cats, a Pug, and a very bossy miniature Poodle, along with far too many books.
When not writing or reading, she loves yoga, collecting cheesy travel souvenirs, and watching the Food Network—even though she doesn't cook. She also writes as Laurel McKee and historical Elizabethan mysteries as Amanda Carmack.
Amanda enjoys hearing from readers. Contact her through her publisher at [email protected]
Table of Contents
Cover
A Note from the Publisher
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Excerpt from A LADY IN DISGUISE (Lessons in Temptation, Book 2)
Meet the Author
A Loving Spirit Page 18