An Improper Lady (The Powder and Patch Collection) by Jane Godman Page B
Authors: Jane Godman
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time activities and revelling in the joy and intensity of their mutual passion.
They were on the outskirts of Lincoln when the redcoats shot Flintlock Jim down, and left him to bleed to death on a public highway. Bella gathered up the remains of his not inconsiderable haul, and completed her journey to London.
A brief stint on the Drury Lane stage – where her face and figure attracted considerable interest, but very little money - was enough to convince Bella that her parents were right. What she needed was the protection of a rich man. Putting into practice the research skills she had acquired at the seminary, she set about planning her strategy with military precision.
Sir Arthur Cavendish, a widower in his late forties, had wealth enough to assure him entry into every house in the land, even though his humble background caused the highest sticklers to raise their brows. He was a creature of habit, whose orderly life followed an untrammelled path. Until, that is, the day he came to the rescue of the young lady who twisted her ankle right outside his front door. Sir Arthur had been departing - something he did like clockwork every day - for lunch at his club. He caught hold of Bella as she tripped daintily into his arms. Sir Arthur gazed down into eyes the colour of melting chocolate. Bending close to hear the shy words of thanks that trembled on her delectable lips, he was lost. They were married within the month.
If Bella was occasionally unfaithful to Sir Arthur, he never suspected it. She was an enchanting companion – pretty, witty and playfully loving towards the husband who could never quite believe his luck. When, after they had been married for five years, his health started to deteriorate, Bella nursed him with a devotion and skill that surprised them both. When he died some years later, she was genuinely sad.
Widowhood suited Bella. Still young, fabulously wealthy and with the well-deserved reputation of being the most beautiful woman in London, she had all the freedom she craved. And if the gossips and tattle-mongers did not like some of the ways in which she indulged her tastes… well, truth be told, notoriety added a certain spice to her adventures!
Bella never lied about her background. She simply didn’t discuss it. The polite world took her at face value. Her manners were impeccable, her sense of style and taste faultless. Lady Bella Cavendish, therefore, must be well-born. Such staggering double standards amused Bella. Her scandalous reputation was well-known; she might bed a different man every night and still gain admittance into the homes of Dukes and Earls. Yet, if a whisper of the truth about her background ever emerged – “Daughter of a merchant, highwayman’s mistress, actress, my dear, I vow and declare, I was never more shocked!” – Those doors would slam in her face.
Her overnight visitor was stirring, and Bella laid down her quill. He yawned, running a hand through his shoulder length, tousled hair and, as he did so, well-defined biceps bulged temptingly. Looking across at her with a grin, he drew back the bedclothes invitingly and ordered, “Come back here, now!”
Bella’s witchy smile flitted briefly across her lips. “Make me,” she purred, remaining in her seat. With an answering smile, he rose and, naked, advanced purposefully towards her. Her eyes wandered over his body with a thrill of anticipation. It seemed her instinct for knowing, at first sight, if a man would prove to be a good lover remained as uncannily strong as ever!
Chapter Two
Bella cast an experienced eye around Lady Anstruther’s ballroom. Yes, she was the most elegantly attired woman present, she affirmed. She did not have to wonder if she was also the most beautiful. With her glorious chestnut locks, wide almond-shaped eyes and impossibly perfect features, no other woman could hold a candle to her.
The company was rather thin on this November evening, many of the nobility having
They were on the outskirts of Lincoln when the redcoats shot Flintlock Jim down, and left him to bleed to death on a public highway. Bella gathered up the remains of his not inconsiderable haul, and completed her journey to London.
A brief stint on the Drury Lane stage – where her face and figure attracted considerable interest, but very little money - was enough to convince Bella that her parents were right. What she needed was the protection of a rich man. Putting into practice the research skills she had acquired at the seminary, she set about planning her strategy with military precision.
Sir Arthur Cavendish, a widower in his late forties, had wealth enough to assure him entry into every house in the land, even though his humble background caused the highest sticklers to raise their brows. He was a creature of habit, whose orderly life followed an untrammelled path. Until, that is, the day he came to the rescue of the young lady who twisted her ankle right outside his front door. Sir Arthur had been departing - something he did like clockwork every day - for lunch at his club. He caught hold of Bella as she tripped daintily into his arms. Sir Arthur gazed down into eyes the colour of melting chocolate. Bending close to hear the shy words of thanks that trembled on her delectable lips, he was lost. They were married within the month.
If Bella was occasionally unfaithful to Sir Arthur, he never suspected it. She was an enchanting companion – pretty, witty and playfully loving towards the husband who could never quite believe his luck. When, after they had been married for five years, his health started to deteriorate, Bella nursed him with a devotion and skill that surprised them both. When he died some years later, she was genuinely sad.
Widowhood suited Bella. Still young, fabulously wealthy and with the well-deserved reputation of being the most beautiful woman in London, she had all the freedom she craved. And if the gossips and tattle-mongers did not like some of the ways in which she indulged her tastes… well, truth be told, notoriety added a certain spice to her adventures!
Bella never lied about her background. She simply didn’t discuss it. The polite world took her at face value. Her manners were impeccable, her sense of style and taste faultless. Lady Bella Cavendish, therefore, must be well-born. Such staggering double standards amused Bella. Her scandalous reputation was well-known; she might bed a different man every night and still gain admittance into the homes of Dukes and Earls. Yet, if a whisper of the truth about her background ever emerged – “Daughter of a merchant, highwayman’s mistress, actress, my dear, I vow and declare, I was never more shocked!” – Those doors would slam in her face.
Her overnight visitor was stirring, and Bella laid down her quill. He yawned, running a hand through his shoulder length, tousled hair and, as he did so, well-defined biceps bulged temptingly. Looking across at her with a grin, he drew back the bedclothes invitingly and ordered, “Come back here, now!”
Bella’s witchy smile flitted briefly across her lips. “Make me,” she purred, remaining in her seat. With an answering smile, he rose and, naked, advanced purposefully towards her. Her eyes wandered over his body with a thrill of anticipation. It seemed her instinct for knowing, at first sight, if a man would prove to be a good lover remained as uncannily strong as ever!
Chapter Two
Bella cast an experienced eye around Lady Anstruther’s ballroom. Yes, she was the most elegantly attired woman present, she affirmed. She did not have to wonder if she was also the most beautiful. With her glorious chestnut locks, wide almond-shaped eyes and impossibly perfect features, no other woman could hold a candle to her.
The company was rather thin on this November evening, many of the nobility having
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