Never Lie to a Lady

Chapter One

A Gala in Hanover Street

Spring 1828

Miss Xanthia Neville was thinking of having an affaire. Thinking of

it quite vividly, in fact, as she watched the tide of handsome, elegantly

attired gentlemen sweep their partners through the intricacies of the

waltz. Cutaway coats and diaphanous skirts swirled and unfurled beneath the

glow of a thousand candles. Champagne glasses clinked, and sidelong gazes

lingered. Everyone was lighthearted. No one was alone.

Well, that was not quite true, was it? She was alone. At the great

age of not-quite-thirty -- a brittle precipice indeed -- Xanthia was a

confirmed spinster. Nonetheless, tonight she had worn red; the deepest,

most daring shade of claret-colored velvet to be found in the whole of

Pall Mall, as if doing so might send some subtle signal within the

rarefied confines of Lord Sharpe's ballroom.

Ah, but perhaps she was just deluding herself. Perhaps she'd had too much

of Sharpe's champagne. In this country, unmarried ladies did not have

liaisons. They had weddings. Even her cynical-hearte ... read full excerpt from Never Lie to a Lady ebook