Christine Merrill

Deception in Regency Society: A Wicked Liaison / Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception


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      SEDUCTION in Regency Society August 2014

      DECEPTION in Regency Society September 2014

      PROPOSALS in Regency Society October 2014

      PRIDE in Regency Society November 2014

      MISCHIEF in Regency Society December 2014

      INNOCENCE in Regency Society January 2015

      ENCHANTED in Regency Society February 2015

      HEIRESS in Regency Society March 2015

      PREJUDICE in Regency Society April 2015

      FORBIDDEN in Regency Society May 2015

      TEMPTATION in Regency Society June 2015

      REVENGE in Regency Society July 2015

      CHRISTINE MERRILL lives on a farm in Wisconsin, USA, with her husband, two sons, and too many pets—all of whom would like her to get off the computer so they can check their e-mail. She has worked by turns in theatre costuming, where she was paid to play with period ball gowns, and as a librarian, where she spent the day surrounded by books. Writing historical romance combines her love of good stories and fancy dress with her ability to stare out of the window and make stuff up.

      Deception in

      Regency Society

      A Wicked Liaison

      Lady Folbroke’s Delicious Deception

      Christine Merrill

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

      A Wicked Liaison

       Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Lady Folbroke’s Delicious Deception

       Dedication

       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

       Copyright

       A Wicked Liaison

      Christine Merrill

      To Maddie Rowe, editor extraordinaire.

      You make this so much fun that I forget I'm working.

       Chapter One

      Anthony de Portnay Smythe sat at his regular table in the darkest corner of the Blade and Scabbard pub. The grey wool of his coat blended with the shadows around him, rendering him almost invisible to the rest of the room. Without appearing to—for to stare at his fellows might prove suicidally rude—he could observe the other patrons. Cutpurses, thieves, petty criminals and transporters of stolen goods. Rogues to a man. And, for all he knew, killers.

      Of course, he took great care not to know.

      The usual feelings of being comfortable and in his element were unusually disconcerting. He dropped a good week’s work on to the table and pushed them towards his old friend, Edgar.

      Business associate, he reminded himself. Although they had known each other for many years, it would be a mistake to call his relationship with Edgar a friendship.

      ‘Rubies.’ Tony sorted through the gems with his finger, making them sparkle in the light of the candle guttering on the table. ‘Loose stones. Easy to fence. You need not even pry them from the settings. The work has been done for you.’

      ‘Dross,’ Edgar countered. ‘I can see from here the stones are flawed. Fifty for the lot.’

      This was where Tony was supposed to point out that they were investment-grade stones, stolen from the study of a marquis. The man had been a poor judge of character, but an excellent judge of jewellery. Then Tony would counter with a hundred and Edgar would try to talk him down.

      But suddenly, he was tired of the whole thing. He pushed the stones further across the table. ‘Fifty it is.’

      Edgar looked at him in suspicion. ‘Fifty? What do you know that I do not?’

      ‘More than I can tell you in an evening, Edgar. Far more. But I know nothing about the stones that need concern you. Now give me the money.’

      This was not how the game was to be played. And thus, Edgar refused to acknowledge that he had won. ‘Sixty, then.’