SEDUCTION in Regency Society
August 2014
DECEPTION in Regency Society
September 2014
PROPOSALS in Regency Society
October 2014
PRIDE in Regency Society
November 2014
MISCHIEF in Regency Society
December 2014
INNOCENCE in Regency Society
January 2015
ENCHANTED in Regency Society
February 2015
HEIRESS in Regency Society
March 2015
PREJUDICE in Regency Society
April 2015
FORBIDDEN in Regency Society
May 2015
TEMPTATION in Regency Society
June 2015
REVENGE in Regency Society
July 2015
SOPHIA JAMES lives in Chelsea Bay on Auckland, New Zealand’s North Shore, with her husband, who is an artist, and her three children. She spends her morning teaching adults English at the local Migrant School and writes in the afternoon. Sophia has a degree in English and History from Auckland University and believes her love of writing was formed reading Georgette Heyer with her twin sister at her grandmother’s house.
Seduction in
Regency
Society
One Unashamed Night
One Illicit Night
Sophia James
Table of Contents
One Unashamed Night
One Illicit Night
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
I’d like to dedicate this book to three wonderful women in my life: Pat Rendall, for her insight into the world of darkness; my mother, Jewell Kivell, for enthusiastically reading the first draft; and Linda Fildew, my fantastic editor, for her patience and belief in all of my books.
Chapter One
Maldon, England—January 1826
The darkness was pulling him down even as he fought to escape it, his eyes widening to catch a tiny tendril of light, the flare of it making him shout out, wanting it, the last colour before complete blackness enveloped him…
‘Sir, sir. Wake up. It’s a dream you are having.’
The voice came from somewhere close and Lord Taris Wellingham slipped from sleep and returned to the warmth of the carriage travelling south to London with a jolt. A face blurred before him, but in the dusk he could not tell whether the woman was young or old. Her voice was soft, almost musical, the lisp on the letter