EXCERPT:

The dim interior of the room, lit only by the cool moonlight spilling around the drapes at the single window, made Amanda pause as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She then crept to the foot of a massive four-poster bed that jutted into the center of the room. For a moment, she simply stood there, looking down at the shadowy lump under the coverlet. A gentle snore rumbled from the still figure.

“You fell asleep?” she murmured into the darkness. She would’ve thought the man would be wide-awake and eager to take her into his arms, into his bed. Disgusted by Raif’s lack of interest, she turned to go. It was one thing to want a man she could hold at arm’s length, but not one so weak-willed he had no spine, or enthusiasm, whatsoever.

In the silence, the ticking clock sounded a single note–quarter past two. Halfway to the door Amanda paused.

And a little more for good measure…

Perhaps Raif had waited in bed for her for hours. She’d lost sight of him after the company had broken up for the night around midnight. After waiting so long he might even have believed she’d decided against the plan at the last minute. That was fair. She was certainly committed to the scheme, but she had to admit she’d had doubts not long ago. Not only about this night but about Raif himself.

She sighed. It would be wonderful to marry a man who knew her, who understood her and would love her. A man she could love in return. But that was the fairytale her father had spun and a far cry from the reality of his own marriage. She shook off the thought. After tonight, Raif would at least understand the depth of her determination if nothing else.

She moved to the far side of the bed, careful not to make a noise. Another glance toward the closed door and her heart sped up at faint words audible in the hallway. Had her father come that quickly? She needed time to get into bed with Raif, time to wake him up so he could at least look like they had been in the throes of passion. She had to be thoroughly compromised for this to work, although she supposed just being in the room like this would assure her ruination. But she wanted to make certain.

She untied her robe and let it fall to the floor. Not giving herself a moment to doubt, she pulled the frilled nightgown over her head to join the robe at her feet. Gooseflesh raced across her body, but not from the cool air. A rush of foreboding made her shiver then she shook her head. If her father wanted her married, so be it. But on her terms.

EXCERPT:

The clock on the mantel chimed two. Lady Amanda Easton started up from her seat in the frilly pink and cream bedroom at Monk’s Copse. If she was going through with this desperate plan, it was time to put it into action. She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath and slipped to the door. Pressing her ear against it, she hoped to catch the sound of Sara returning. The stillness of the corridor concerned her and she opened it a crack.

Gaslights flickered down the hallway at intervals, but no one stirred. Good. But where was Sara? Her plan couldn’t work without the maid. She didn’t want to ring the bell again. It might draw unwanted attention to her. Should she go in search of her instead?

Just as she was about to slip out of the door, Sara appeared around the corner, her cap askew, her cheeks a hectic pink.

With a sigh of relief, Amanda eased out of her room, closed the door with a soft click and beckoned the maid to follow her down the passageway.

“Where are you going, my lady?” Puzzlement fought with exhaustion in Sara’s face.

“I need you to come with me, please Sara. I need you to help me with something.” She started down the corridor, gaze darting hither and yon to detect any other movement.

“Help you with what, my lady?” The maid’s tone was suspicious, but the well-trained girl followed Amanda nonetheless.

“Just come with me.” Amanda’s heart beat a wild tattoo at every imagined sound as she wound her way through the corridors, but no actual danger materialized. At last, she turned into the hall she sought—the gentlemen’s wing—and headed for the last chamber on the right where her soon-to-be lover awaited her. The flutter in her stomach escalated at the thought.

And a little more for good measure…

With her hand on the handle, a creak behind Amanda made her whirl around, certain she’d been discovered, but the hallway remained empty save for the maid and the weak yellow light of the oil sconces. “Sara, I need you to find my father and Lord Armstrong, and fetch them to this room.”

“This room, Lady Amanda?” The frown on Sara’s face showed only her incomprehension of the task given her. “Whatever for?”

“I believe there is someone desperately ill inside.” It was the only excuse she could think of that would bring her father and Lord Armstrong at this time of night. “It’s one of my cousins, Lord Abercrombie, who I dined with tonight. He said he wasn’t feeling well and I should come check on him before I retired.”

“But you shouldn’t be here, my lady. This is the gentlemen’s wing.” According to the scandalized tone of her voice, Sara’s fatigue had given way to ingrained propriety.

“Yes, I know. And I’ll leave as soon as my father arrives. Lord Armstrong should be summoned as well, in case he thinks the doctor should be summoned.” That should satisfy Sara. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to Lord Abercrombie, would you?”

“Oh, no, my lady.” Sara squared her shoulders. “I’ll go straight away.”

“They were both in the library when I last left them.”

“Very good, my lady. I’ll be back in three ticks.” The young maid spun around and took off at a brisk pace.

Amanda stayed completely still until Sara turned the corner, then she let out the breath she’d been holding. Leaning gently against the door, she paused as the enormity of what she was about to do sank in. It was the only way. If she wanted Raiford Tolbert, wanted this struggle to be over, she had to seize her chance. She straightened her shoulders, shook back her hair and, with a determined nod, turned the handle.