Jacquie D’Alessandro - Seduced at Midnight

The third book in the Mayhem in Mayfair series, 2009

I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable help and support:

All the wonderful people at Berkley for their kindness, cheer-leading, and help in making my dreams come true, including Susan Allison, Leis Pederson, Don Rieck, and Sharon Gamboa.

My agent, Damaris Rowland, for her faith and wisdom, as well as Steven Axelrod, Lori Antonson, and Elsie Turoci.

Jenni Grizzle and Wendy Etherington for being such great buds.

Barbara Hosea for her wonderful haircutting talent, Andrea Moore, and Kathy Burgess for making me laugh and calling me Darlin '.

Thanks also to the wonderful Sue Grimshaw of BGI for her generosity and support. And as always to Kay and Jim Johnson, Kathy and Dick Guse, and Lea and Art D'Alessandro.

A cyber hug to my Looney Loopies: Connie Brockway, Marsha Canham, Virginia Henley, Jill Gregory, Julia London, Kathleen Givens, Sherri Browning, and Julie Ortolon, and also to the Temptresses the Blaze Babes.

A very special thank you to the members of Georgia Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America.

And a very special thank you to all the men and women serving in our armed forces for the sacrifices you and your families make to keep our nation safe.

And finally, thank you to all the wonderful readers who have taken the time to write to me. I love hearing from you!

London, 1820

From theLondon Times :

Do you believe in ghosts? Mrs. Marguerite Greeley was found murdered and robbed last night in her Berkeley Square town house, in a crime identical to the robbery and murder of Lady Ratherstone only last week. Mrs. Greeley's butler reported hearing eerie moaning sounds coming from her private sitting room where her jewel box was located. Upon entering the room, the butler discovered the body and missing jewels and stated that all the windows and doors were locked from the inside. Similar sounds and locked windows and doors were reported at Lady Ratherstone's home. It seems clear Mrs. Greeley is the latest victim of Mayfair's cleverest, most diabolical, seemingly invisible, and thus far uncatchable criminal. Which begs two questions all of London is asking: Could the thief indeed be a ghost? And who is next?

After making certain she wasn't observed, Lady Julianne Bradley slipped from the crowded drawing room and walked down the candlelit corridor. Although her heart pounded in anticipation, urging her to hurry, she forced her feet to keep a sedate pace. She had no wish to call undue attention to herself should she happen upon anyone.

Music and laughter, the hum of conversation, and the tinkling of crystal faded as she made her way farther from the center of Lord and Lady Daltry's elegant soiree. She turned a corner then counted the rooms as she passed… one, two… she slowed as she approached the third door.

The feeling that she was being watched suddenly flooded through her. A heated flush, the sort that always stained her pale skin a telltale red whenever she experienced any sort of nervousness, whooshed upward from her neck, flaming her face.

She turned, scanning the area, and saw nothing amiss. She was alone. Your imagination is running amok as usual.

Hoping she didn't look as furtive as she felt, she took one last glance around, then opened the third door. She stepped quickly into the room, closing the door behind her.

"It's about time you arrived."

The whisper came from directly beside her, and Julianne barely squelched the startled cry that rose to her lips. Leaning back against the oak panel, she looked around the shadowed library, illuminated in a curtain of dull gold from the low-burning fire glowing in the grate. Three pairs of eyes scrutinized her.

"We were beginning to think you weren't going to come," said Lady Emily Stapleford, impatiently pulling Julianne away from the door. "At best we have only a few minutes together before someone notes our absence from the party. What on earth detained you?"

"It was difficult to escape Mother," Julianne said. As she did at every soiree, the Countess of Gatesbourne took her duty of advantageously placing her only daughter in the path of every eligible titled gentleman in attendance very seriously. Such contrivances only served to render Julianne more shy than usual, a fact that greatly displeased her mother, who was not shy about voicing her displeasure.

Julianne's three friends exchanged a glance then gave an understanding nod. They well knew the countess's overbearing nature.

"Well, we're just glad you're here," said Carolyn Sutton, Countess Surbrooke, with a smile. "For a moment I thought perhaps a ghost absconded with you."

Julianne glanced at the beautiful newlywed who'd returned to London two days ago after a fortnight-long wedding trip to the Continent with her new husband. Carolyn was practically glowing with obvious happiness. Julianne's admiration for her friend's calm efficiency and serene composure knew no bounds.

"Botheration, Carolyn, not you, too," said Sarah Devenport, Marchioness Langston, in her usual no-nonsense manner-another trait Julianne wished she herself possessed. Sarah shoved her spectacles higher on her nose and frowned at her sister. "You're nearly as bad as the Times , not to mention many guests at this party. You can't possibly believe that a ghost is responsible for the recent rash of robberies."

Emily's mouth curved upward in the mischievous grin that so often touched her lips. "Unless he's like the ghost in our latest book selection. Of course, in The Ghost of Devonshire Manor the only thing stolen was a lady's innocence. The story was so deliciously real-"

"Which is why I called for this meeting of the Ladies Literary Society now," interrupted Julianne. "The timing of a ghost robber is perfect. I think we should hold a séance, similar to the one in the book, to discover who this thief is."

"I think that's a marvelous idea," said Emily.

"I think perhaps the Devonshire Manor ghost has addled your wits," said Sarah.

"Perhaps," Julianne conceded. "I must admit I haven't been quite the same since I read it." Indeed, the book had ignited a restlessness within her she'd been unable to squelch. "The story affected me strongly. It was haunting-"

"As a ghost story should be," Emily interrupted with a grin.

"Yes, but more than anything, you can't deny it was extremely"-Julianne cleared her throat then lowered her voice-" sensual as well."

"It was indeed," agreed Sarah. "A more apt title might have been The Haunting of Lady Elaine ."

" By the Very Delicious Maxwell, " added Emily, fanning her hand in front of her face.

"Yes," said Carolyn. "Maxwell was… oh, my…"