Rumours in the Regency Ballroom: Scandalising the Ton / Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady. Diane Gaston

      Rumours

      in the Regency Ballroom

       Scandalising the Ton

       Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady

      Diane Gaston

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      About the Author

      As a psychiatric social worker, DIANE GASTON spent years helping others create real-life happy endings. Now Diane crafts fictional ones, writing the kind of historical romance she’s always loved to read. The youngest of three daughters of a US Army colonel, Diane moved frequently during her childhood, even living for a year in Japan. It continues to amaze her that her own son and daughter grew up in one house in Northern Virginia. Diane still lives in that house, with her husband and three very ordinary housecats. Scandalising the Ton features characters you will have met in The Vanishing Viscountess.

      Visit Diane’s website at http://dianegaston.com

       In The Regency Ballroom Collection

      Scandal in the Regency Ballroom –Louise Allen April 2013

      Innocent in the Regency Ballroom –Christine Merrill May 2013

      Wicked in the Regency Ballroom –Margaret McPhee June 2013

      Cinderella in the Regency Ballroom –Deb Marlowe July 2013

      Rogue in the Regency Ballroom –Helen Dickson August 2013

      Debutante in the Regency Ballroom –Anne Herries September 2013

      Rumours in the Regency Ballroom –Diane Gaston October 2013

      Rake in the Regency Ballroom –Bronwyn Scott November 2013

      Mistress in the Regency Ballroom –Juliet Landon December 2013

      Courtship in the Regency Ballroom –Annie Burrows January 2014

      Scoundrel in the Regency Ballroom –Marguerite Kaye February 2014

      Secrets in the Regency Ballroom –Joanna Fulford March 2014

       Scandalising the Ton

      Diane Gaston

      To my sister Judy,

      my first and forever friend

       Chapter One

      Once the finest ornament of the beau monde, a beauty so astounding and sublime a man would kill to possess her hand in marriage, the notorious Lady W—mourns her murderous husband in secret. How much knowledge did she possess of her husband’s villainous acts?—The New Observer, November 12, 1818

      “Leave me this instant!”

      A woman’s voice.

      Adrian Pomroy, the new Viscount Cavanley, barely heard her as he rounded the corner into John Street. Not even halfway down the road he saw the woman stride away from a man. The man hurried after her. They were mere silhouettes in the waning light of this November evening and they took no heed of him.

      Adrian paused to make sense of this little drama. It was most likely a lovers’ quarrel, and, if so, he’d backtrack to avoid landing in the middle of it.

      “One moment.” The man kept his voice down, as if fearing to be overheard. “Please!” He seized her arm.

      “Release me!” The woman struggled frantically to pull away.

      Lovers’ quarrel or not, Adrian could not allow a woman to be treated so roughly. He sprinted forwards. “Unhand her! What is this?”

      The man released the woman so quickly she tripped on her long hooded cloak. Adrian clasped her arm before she fell, holding her until she regained her balance. From the mews nearby a horse whinnied, but otherwise it was quiet.

      The man backed away. “This is not as it appears, sir. I intend no harm to the lady.” He raised his hands as if to prove his words.

      The lady? Adrian assumed he’d rescued some maid from a stableman’s unwanted advances, but the woman’s cloak was made of fine cloth, and the man was dressed more like a tradesman than a stableman.

      Adrian turned to the lady. “Did he harm you, ma’am?”

      “No.” The hood of her cloak shrouded her face. “But I do not wish to speak to him.”

      The man stepped forwards again. “I merely asked the lady a few questions—”

      “I will not answer them,” she cried from beneath her hood.

      Adrian had the advantage of size on the man. He straightened his spine to make certain the man knew it. “If the lady does not wish to speak to you, that is the end of it.”

      “Let me explain, sir.” The man stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to Adrian. “I am Samuel Reed from The New Observer.”

      Adrian glanced at the card. “You are a newspaper reporter?” He had read the new London paper, quite recently, in fact.

      The man nodded. “All England wishes to know Lady Wexin’s reaction to the events surrounding her villainous husband. I am merely requesting the information from her.”

      “Lady Wexin?”

      Adrian regarded the cloaked figure with new interest.Adrian had just called upon his friend, the Marquess of Tannerton. Tanner had shoved The New Observer article about Lady Wexin under Adrian’s nose not more than half an hour ago.

      His friend, Tanner, had recently returned from Scotland with a new wife and news about Lord Wexin that had consumed the newspapers ever since. Truth to tell, Tanner’s marriage had shocked Adrian more than the tale of murder, betrayal and death that involved the Earl of Wexin.

      Lady Wexin interrupted Adrian’s thoughts. “Do I take it by your silence that you agree with this man, sir?” She stood with one hand braced against a garden wall. “Do perfect strangers have a right to know my private matters?”

      Adrian still could not see her face, but he recalled the ton beauty very well. What gentleman would not? Adrian had never been formally presented to Lady Wexin, but they had occasionally attended the same society gatherings. Years ago Tanner and Adrian had briefly included Wexin among their set, but that had been before Wexin’s marriage.

      “You owe this man nothing, my lady.” Adrian gave her a reassuring smile. “He will trouble you no further.”

      According to Tanner, Lady Wexin was an innocent party in the perfidy that had so titillated the gossip-lovers. The newspapers had indulged the public’s seemingly insatiable appetite for the scandal by speculating about Lady Wexin’s part in it. Wexin might be dead, but his wife was not.

      Lady Wexin let go of the garden wall. “I shall be on my way, then.” She turned, her cloak swirling around her. She took one step, paused, then resumed walking.

      Adrian frowned. She was limping.

      Mr Reed’s gaze followed her as well. He appeared to be considering whether to pursue her with more questions.

      Adrian clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you leave, Mr Reed.”

      Mr Reed’s eyes flashed. “This is a public street, sir.”

      Adrian smiled, but without