The Demure Miss Manning. Amanda McCabe

      

      ‘Miss Manning, have you met the great hero of the day?’ Lady Alnworth said.

      He turned to smile at Mary, and it took all her long years of careful diplomatic training to keep her own polite smile in place. A chivalric knight of old, only in a red coat instead of gleaming armour. On him, that uniform seemed—different. Exotic. Alluring.

      ‘How do you do, Miss Manning?’ he said, bowing over her hand.

      His breath through her glove made her shiver. His hair was a golden brown, shimmering as if he spent much time in the sun. It gave him such a warmth she wanted to get close to. So very vital … burning with raw, energetic life.

      Yes, she thought. No wonder all the young ladies of London were in love with him. If she wasn’t careful she would soon be one of them!

Author Note

      I don’t know what last winter was like where you are, but here it was cold, grey and long! I am not a winter person—ever … So I definitely loved escaping to the warm beaches of Brazil, even if it was only in my imagination.

      I also loved watching the romance of Mary and Sebastian unfold against the palm trees and real-life political intrigue of 1808 Rio. They started to feel like real friends—two people whose adventures I loved following every day. I was never sure where they would go, but I knew they definitely belonged together—two strong, kind-hearted, brave people, who are too honourable and stubborn for their own good! Maybe I was just feeling extra-romantic after my own wedding last summer! I hope you enjoy their adventures, too …

      For more behind-the-book history and deleted scenes from The Demure Miss Manning be sure to visit me at ammandamccabe.com.

      The Demure Miss Manning

      Amanda McCabe

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      AMANDA McCABE wrote her first romance at the age of sixteen—a vast epic, starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class. She’s never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA, Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Booksellers’ Best, the National Readers’ Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband, one dog and one cat.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

Author Note

       Title Page

       About the Author

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

       Epilogue

       Author Note

       Extract

       Copyright

Chapter One

      London—1805

      ‘I hear he is the handsomest thing ever seen!’

      Mary Manning tried not to laugh at her friend Lady Louisa Smythe’s enthusiastic words. Instead, she smiled and nodded at the people they strolled past in the park, and adjusted her lace-trimmed parasol against the bright afternoon sun. Lady Louisa did tend to get so very excited over titbits of gossip, especially gossip about good-looking young men.

      And a good-looking young man who was the newest hero of the war against Napoleon, after his valiant behaviour at the Battle of Caldiero—well, Mary was surprised she hadn’t swooned quite away with enthusiasm yet.

      But Mary had to admit even she was intrigued by the tales of Lord Sebastian Barrett, third son of the Marquess of Howard and a captain in the Third Hussars, and his heroism. Just a tiny bit.

      Lady Louisa took Mary’s arm as they turned along a winding, narrow river path. Mary automatically studied the people gathered there, strolling in pairs or laughing quartets, talking together by the sun-dappled water. Her father had worked in the diplomatic service for as long as she could remember, and she had been his hostess since her beautiful Portuguese mother died a few years ago.

      Sixteen had been young to organise dinners and card parties where foreign envoys and their sophisticated wives could make alliances with the English representatives, especially