Christine Merrill - A Convenient Bride For The Soldier

Bought for Ten Thousand Pounds!

Ex-soldier Frederick Challenger may own a share of London’s most secret gentlemen’s club, but he has long since stopped sampling its delights...until a beautiful woman auctions her innocence.

Georgiana Knight’s plan had been to lure in a villain, but instead she’s trapped the devil himself. And now, to protect her reputation, she must marry him! But if Frederick has hopes of taming this temptress, he’ll have to think again...

Hidden amongst the masked revellers of an underground Regency gentlemen’s club, where decadence, daring and debauchery abound, the four owners of Vitium et Virtusare about to meet their match!

Welcome to...

The Society of Wicked Gentlemen

Read

A Convenient Bride for the Soldier

by Christine Merrill

September 2017

An Innocent Maid for the Duke

by Ann Lethbridge

October 2017

And look for stories

from Diane Gaston and Sophia James

coming soon!

Author Note

One of the most frequent questions I get asked is, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’

The truth is, I don’t always know. Stories tend to come out of the swamp that is my mind. Sometimes they are sparked by a single idea—or by a desire to write a totally different, happier ending for something I’ve seen in real life.

In the case of series like this one they are a group effort, in which editors and authors have fun working together on a general roadmap for the story. But there is still plenty to go crazy on with the details, and in making the characters and their love story totally our own.

In the case of Georgiana Knight, I must admit that some of her obsessions came straight from my own past. I was a child of the Sixties—but not the exciting part of the decade. With a lack of money, and only three TV channels, I spent a lot of time making my own fun. That included visiting the mynah bird at the local shoe store, and lying on my belly in the driveway feeding sugar to ants.

And, in case you’re wondering, I have not experienced any of her other, wilder adventures. Not yet, anyway…

Happy reading!

A Convenient Bride for the Soldier

Christine Merrill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTINE MERRILLlives on a farm in Wisconsin, USA, with her husband, two sons, and too many pets—all of whom would like her to get off of the computer so they can check their e-mail. She has worked by turns in theatre costuming and as a librarian. 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.

Books by Christine Merrill

Mills & Boon Historical Romance

The de Bryun Sisters

The Truth About Lady Felkirk

A Ring from a Marquess

Ladies in Disgrace

Lady Folbroke’s Delicious Deception

Lady Drusilla’s Road to Ruin

Lady Priscilla’s Shameful Secret

The Society of Wicked Gentlemen

A Convenient Bride for the Soldier

Stand-Alone Novels

A Wicked Liaison

Miss Winthorpe’s Elopement

Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess

Two Wrongs Make a Marriage

Unlaced at Christmas

‘The Christmas Duchess’

The Secrets of Wiscombe Chase

The Wedding Game

Mills & Boon Historical Undone! eBooks

Seducing a Stranger

Virgin Unwrapped

To Undo a Lady

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.ukfor more titles.

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To the boys in the basement.

Not Stephen King’s boys.

Mine. Here’s to getting the band back together.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

The Society of Wicked Gentlemen

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The dancers stopped and the musicians set down their instruments. Georgiana Knight had never been so glad to hear a song end.

‘You dance like an angel.’ Her partner, Sir Nash Bowles, showed no sign of releasing the hand he was holding, instead attempting to tuck it into the crook of his arm so he could escort her from the dance floor.

Had she heard the compliment, her stepmother would have been quick to point out that George was as far from angelic as it was possible for a girl to be. In Marietta’s opinion, George was lacking in both good sense and manners. In the years after her mother’s death, her father had allowed her to run wild in the country like a hoyden. The resulting damage to her character was most likely irreparable.

Which was just fine with George. She was happy, just as she was. She certainly did not want to be anyone’s angel. It made her think of dancing on a pinpoint, instead of the razor’s edge of courtesy on which she was balanced when dealing with Sir Nash. He was Marietta’s cousin. Any rudeness on her part would be reported back to her stepmother, which would result in another tiresome lecture on deportment during the carriage ride home.

She yanked her hand free of his grasp with such suddenness that she almost left him holding an empty glove. Sir Nash was sure to tattle about it and there would be another row.

Perhaps it was not too late to mitigate the damage. George gave him the sweetest smile she could manage, but made no effort to take his arm. ‘Thank you, sir. You are an excellent dancer as well.’ It was one of the many virtues, along with wealth and family connection, that Marietta would throw in her face when George refused his inevitable offer.

Sir Nash reached for her hand again, as though he had more right to touch her than she had to refuse. ‘Another dance, perhaps? I hear the orchestra leader tuning up for a waltz.’

She had to fight the shudder that rose at the prospect. He had managed to stand far too close to her in the most ordinary of line dances. Lord knew what he might attempt if given an excuse to hold her in his arms. ‘I would not want to stand up, only to stop before the dance was over.’ She reached for her fan and snapped it open, creating a fragile barrier between them. Then she closed it and touched it to her left ear, using the language of signals that ladies had created to avoid embarrassing scenes.

I want you to leave me alone.

Then she finished with words that they should both know were nothing more than a polite lie to save him embarrassment. ‘The last set left me quite fatigued. I think it best to sit for a while.’

‘I will find us chairs,’ he said, ignoring her hint, her tone, and everything else she had done in the last weeks to dissuade him from pursuing her. There was a faint sibilance when he spoke that always reminded her of the hiss of a snake. Though his body was far too stocky too support the serpentine analogy, his movements, whether dancing or walking, were smooth and silent. Even when she was not with him, she feared that he might appear suddenly to offer an inappropriate word or an unwelcome touch.