Julia London - The Devil Takes a Bride

‘London’s writing bubbles with high emotion as she describes sexual enthusiasm, personal grief and familial warmth. Her blend of playful humour and sincerity imbues her heroines with incredible appeal, and readers will delight as their unconventional tactics create rambling paths to happiness.’

—Publishers Weekly on The Devil Takes a Bride

‘This tale of scandal and passion is perfect for readers who like to see bad girls win, but still love the feeling of a society romance, and London nicely sets up future books starring Honour’s sisters.’

—Publishers Weekly on The Trouble with Honour

‘A delectably sexy hero, an unconventionally savvy heroine and a completely improper business proposal add up to another winner for ever-versatile London.’

—Booklist on The Trouble with Honour

‘This series starter brims with delightful humour and charm.’

—RT Book Reviews on The Trouble with Honour

‘Julia London writes vibrant, emotional stories and sexy, richly drawn characters.’

—New York Times bestselling author Madeline Hunter

The Trouble With Honour

The Devil Takes a Bride

The Scoundrel and the Debutante

JULIA LONDONis the New York Times, USA TODAY, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of more than twenty romantic fiction novels. Her historical romance titles include the popular Desperate Debutantes series, the Scandalous series and the Secrets of Hadley Green series. She has also penned several contemporary women’s fiction novels with strong romantic elements, including the Pine River trilogy, Summer of Two Wishes , One Season of Sunshine and A Light at Winter’s End. She has won the RT Bookclub Award for Best Historical Romance and has been a four-time finalist for the prestigious RITA ®Award for excellence in romantic fiction. She lives in Austin, Texas.

The Devil

Takes a Bride

Julia London

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Contents

Cover

Praise

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

Extract

Endpage

Copyright

PROLOGUE

Autumn of 1810

AT THE END of the hunting season, before the winter set in, the Earl of Clarendon hosted a soiree at his London home for the families of Quality that had come to town. He included, in his coveted invitations, his closest friends, all of whom had august titles and impeccable social connections.

The Earl of Beckington and his wife; his son, Lord Sommerfield, Augustine Devereaux; and his two eldest stepdaughters—Miss Honor Cabot and Miss Grace Cabot—were invited to attend. That the two youngest Beckington stepdaughters, Miss Prudence Cabot and Miss Mercy Cabot, were not included in the invitation caused quite a ruckus at the Beckington London townhome, which resulted in many tears being shed. The youngest, Mercy Cabot, vowed that she would vacate that house while the others attended the soiree. She would steal aboard a merchant ship that would carry her as far from London as one might possibly sail.

Miss Prudence Cabot, who was three years older than Mercy and who had just passed her sixteenth birthday, said she would not steal aboard a merchant ship. But if she was so worthless as to not merit an invitation, she intended to walk about Covent Garden unattended and sell her body and soul to the first person who offered a guinea.

“What?” cried twenty-year-old Grace when Prudence cavalierly announced her intentions. “Prudence, darling, have you lost your mind? You would sell yourself for a guinea?”

“Yes,” said Prudence petulantly, and lifted her chin, her gaze daring anyone to challenge her.

“Should you not at least aspire to a crown, dearest? What will a guinea say of your family? You must agree that a guinea is insufficient for your body and your soul.”

“Mamma!” Prudence cried. “Why do you allow her to tease me?” And then, unsatisfied with Lady Beckington’s indifferent response, she’d flounced off, apparently encountering several doors in her haste to flee, judging by the number of them that were slammed.

The Cabot girls were as close as sisters could be, and even Prudence’s hurt feelings could not keep her from the excitement of watching her older sisters dress for the evening. Honor and Grace were highly regarded among the most fashionably dressed—that was because their stepfather was a generous man and indulged their tastes in fine fabrics and skilled modistes.

On the evening of the soiree, in preparation, gowns were donned and discarded as too plain, too old or too confining. In the end, Honor, the oldest at twenty-one, selected a pale blue gown that complemented her black hair and blue eyes. Grace chose dark gold with silver filigree that caught the light and seemed to sparkle when she moved. Honor said it was the perfect gown to set off Grace’s gold hair and her hazel eyes.

When they descended to the foyer, their stepbrother, Augustine, who was to accompany them as the earl and his wife had declined the invitation, given the earl’s battle with consumption, peered at them. Then he rose up on his toes and said dramatically, “You surely do not intend to go out like that?”

“Like what?” Honor asked.

Augustine puffed out his cheeks as he was wont to do when he was flustered. “Like that,” he said, studiously avoiding looking at their chests.

“Do you mean our hair?” Honor teased him.

“No.”

“Is it my rouge? Does it not appeal to you?”

“No, I do not mean your rouge.”

“It must be your pearls,” Grace said with a wink for her sister.

Augustine turned quite red. “You know very well what I mean! I think your gown is too revealing! There, I’ve said it.”

“It’s the fashion in Paris,” Grace explained as she accepted her cloak from the footman.

“One cannot help but wonder if there is any fashion left in Paris, as it all seems to be upstairs in this house. I wonder how you know the fashion of Paris seeing as how Britain is at war with France.”

“Men are at war, Augustine. Women are not,” Grace said, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Don’t you want us to be fashionable?”