As for Isolde, her courage and determination make her Randall’s equal. Her quest for the truth and willingness to fight for what she loves makes all things possible, as we have seen in Innocence Afire.
I hope you enjoyed Randall and Isolde’s story, and we will see them and Michael later in the series teaming up with the other Rakehells in their many adventures.
As always, there will be plenty of romance and intrigue along the way. In the meantime, may all of your fantasies and dreams come true!
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series
Book 12
RAVISHED
Sorcha MacMurrough
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Synopsis
Reviews
Copyright
About The Author
List of Characters
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
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Author's Note
All Titles by Author
SYNOPSIS
Rakish Matthew Dane is out on the Town for a bit of adventure and variety. Visiting a new brothel he has never tried before, he is presented with the most delectable woman he has ever seen, who is tied to the bed and blindfolded.
Thinking it is no more than an erotic game, Matthew and the alluring young woman share the ultimate bliss--until he takes off her blindfold, and discovers he has just made love to his young virginal cousin Althea!
Kidnapped from her home, drugged with opium and sold, the orphaned young woman has no recollection of how she got to the brothel, and is terrified that whoever grabbed her will try to seize her again. All she knows is that she has always desired Matthew, and Fate seems to have presented her with all she could wish for in their passionate embraces.
Matthew is torn between his yearnings for Althea, with every touch and look leaving him craving more of her sensual sweetness, and his shock at what he has done. He is even more haunted by what might have happened if he had not come along in time to save her.
He can only see one solution: marry Althea and give her the protection she needs as his wife. But the accomplished rake is at a loss as to how to deal with the delicately beautiful woman, and has no belief in love, only lust.
Althea has been in love with Matthew for as long as she can remember. Tired of being treated like a victim or empty-headed Society belle, she wages a campaign to put behind her the traumatic ordeal which brought them together.
Althea is willing to fight using every weapon in her arsenal to win Matthew's love, and stop her husband from seeking solace with the many women who wish to be his mistress, including the cunning Matilda, and manipulative Georgina Jerome.
When another young woman goes missing near her childhood home, Althea risks all in a depraved and deadly game to save the imprisoned girl. Althea will stop at nothing to uncover the identity of the criminal mastermind who has engineered the ring of debauchery lurking under the pleasant facade of aristocratic society. Can Matthew save his one true love Althea before it's too late?
An Excerpt:
Althea was indeed a virgin, but she was not naive. There was no mistaking what was about to happen next. She desperately tried one last gambit to stop the passion rising between them. He had no idea it was her tied to the bed like a sacrificial lamb in this out of the way brothel.
Worse still, she had no notion what he would do once he discovered her identity if she didn't try to stop him now before it was too late. "Matthew, please, you need to think what you're doing. If this is what you really want."
"Do you want me?" he asked, stroking down her neck, his hands all over her breasts, abdomen, and buttocks. "Do you want me?" he asked, stroking down her neck, his hands all over her breasts, abdomen, and buttocks.
She had never lied to her cousin, and so even now in this moment of crisis she told him the absolute truth. "I've always wanted you, Matthew. You know that. From the first moment I saw you a fully grown man, so tall and broad and handsome, and so well, virile, I couldn't help myself. I knew you would be magnificent. Naked as you are now, well. Words fails me. And the way you touch me? But we need to leave, we must hurry-"
"We have all the time in the world. You just said you wanted me, after all. And I most certainly want you."
REVIEWS
"A remarkable blend of eroticism, mystery and suspense. It certainly gave me all kinds of goosebumps. Her heroes are always sexy, her villains really spine-tinglingly nasty. Matthew is a fallen hero if ever there was one, and Althea certainly not a conventional heroine either.
Ravished is a perfect title for this novel, and proves a sensual addition to this fabulous series, and a super opportunity to catch up with your favourite Rakehells, who are all in top form."
Evelyn Trimborn
"Totally spooky, and sexy too. The author has penned yet another Gothic Regency romance with heady sensuality, and a very complex hero and heroine with genuine depth and a very rocky road to their happily ever after. The superb cast of supporting characters provide a fascinating mystery and a breathtaking race against the clock to save an innocent girl from certain doom."
Jacinta Carey
RAVISHED
A Rakehell Regency Romance Novel
Sorcha MacMurrough
HerStory Books
Dedication:
To A, for more reasons than I can count. And to P, for making my life so much easier.
Copyright USA, UK and Worldwide the author 2004, 2009, 2010, 2012
Published by HerStory Books
http://www.herstorybooks.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-58345-137-3
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sorcha MacMurrough is a multi-published author from Ireland who has taught English literature and English and Irish history. She has lived all over the UK and Ireland, including London, Edinburgh, and Dublin. Her favorite cities to live in or visit are Bath and York. She loves old houses, castles and estates and can usually be found touring these locales to help make all of her settings come alive for her readers. Sorcha loves the Regency period and the Napoleonic era in particular, which form the beginning of the modern world as we know it.
Her
novels have been chosen as monthly "Top Picks" by Romantic Times, and she has also been nominated for a Reviewer's Choice award for best novel of the year by Romantic Times. When she is not writing, researching and teaching, she cooks, knits Aran sweaters, and enjoys spending time with her large family. She loves Irish dancing and music, and beachcombing on the shores of Donegal, Sligo and Galway.
CHARACTER LIST
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series
Matthew Dane, a Rakehell, and financier
Lady Pemberton, his aunt, prominent London Society hostess
Althea Dane, his cousin
Lucy Rowe, Althea's step-mother
Charles Rowe, Althea's step-brother
Dr. Antony Herriot, runs women's clinic in London, Isolde Avenel's cousin
Philip Marshall, a Rakehell, works with Alistair Grant, a prominent London barrister
Jasmine Marshall, his wife
(for their love story, see The Mistaken Miss)
Alistair Grant, a Rakehell and barrister in London
Dr. Blake Sanderson, a Rakehell, a doctor in London and Somerset
Arabella Neville Sanderson, his wife
(for their story, see Guardian of the Heart)
Jonathan Deveril, a Rakehell, vicar of Brimley and Eltham
Pamela Deveril, nee Ashton, his wife
(for their story, see The Miss Matched)
Sarah Deveril Davenport, Jonathan's youngest sister
Alexander Davenport, her husband, a Rakehell
(for their story, see The Matchless Miss)
Martin Jerome, Blake's cousin, a Rakehell
Eswara Paignton Jerome, his wife, a healer from India who works with Blake
(for their story, see The Model Mistress)
Ash Paignton, Eswara's son, training to be a doctor with Blake
Michael Avenel, a Rakehell, Randall's eldest brother
Bryony Avenel, his wife
(for their story, see The Model Master)
Randall Avenel, the Earl of Hazelmere, a Rakehell and horse breeder
Isolde Avenel, his wife, Viscount Linley's daughter
(for their story, see Innocence and Innocence Afire)
Clifford Stone, a Rakehell, owner of Stone Court
Vanessa Stone, nee Hawkesworth, his wife, a great scholar
(for their story, see The Mad Mistress)
The Duke of Ellesmere, Thomas Eltham, a Rakehell, lives at Eltham Castle
The Duchess of Ellesmere, Charlotte Eltham, nee Castlemaine, his wife
(for their story, see The Missed Match)
Chapter One
The hands were there again. Upon her body. Touching her once more. Constantly seeking. Never leaving her alone. All over her breasts and belly and thighs, her face, her lips.
Only this time they were warm, gentle, soft. Almost teasing. Cresting her nipples, feathering along her hips. Touching her delicate flesh most intimately, deeply, for the first time. Dabbling with her soft feminine curls, her secret peaks and valleys. Dewing her with moistness as if a sponge were being wrung out between her slender thighs.
She shivered hot and cold with the indefinable thrill of it all. This couldn't be real. It had to be a fantasy. A beautiful dream stemming from all of her secret yearnings for her handsome cousin Matthew, the only man she had ever loved.
Althea opened her eyes, and tried to peer through the fog. No, no fog, a gauzy blindfold which had not been fastened securely and had slipped down over her face, obscuring her features, but allowing her to peep over the edge of it to see the person touching her.
Now Althea was sure she had to be dreaming. For she was certain that it was Matthew leaning over her, working the most exquisite magic with his hands. All these weeks she had been praying, and now at last he was here to help her. Save her from her torment.
She gazed with joy and terror at his raven-black hair, turquoise eyes, and exquisitely fine nose and cheekbones.
Althea tried to speak, but the sound was muffled, the words hardly forming in her bruised mouth and throat. Her tongue felt like lead. She was so parched she was sure she had sucked sand.
She tried again. "Please, help me. You have to get me out of here."
"It's all right. No one's going to hurt you. I won't hurt you."
"I know. I trust you. But they'll be coming for me in a minute. They'll kill you if you try to rescue me."
Her world spun dizzily, and she shut her eyes against the swirling sensation which sickened her. She could still feel his hands upon her, stroking down her bare belly in long soothing caresses. The contact was her only anchor in the stormy sea of confusion she found herself bobbing upon, weightless and powerless to stop herself from drowning.
Only Matthew could save her. Yet if he were here, touching her, did that not mean he had betrayed her too?
When Althea opened her eyes again, her cousin was still there, as he had been before, his face familiar and beloved as always. But he was naked. Naked and fully aroused. And he was touching her in the one place the men had said it was forbidden to tamper with. The pleasure was so great she gasped.
Pleasure, or pain? For she had never felt anything but utter revulsion before when the others had poked and prodded all of her other orifices like a beast of burden at auction. What was happening? Why was Matthew doing this to her now of all times?
She cast her eyes wildly about and saw she was no longer in the dank dungeon in which she'd been kept a prisoner. Moreover, Matthew was alone. No one else was laughing, jeering, shouting encouragement or the disgusting words she could only guess the meanings of. Doing things to themselves in their excitement over the brutal act being committed upon her until she screamed or choked. Or tried to as the crushing weight and blackness rolled over her once more.
But Matthew had always cared about her, protected her. Why on earth was he here? Touching her in her most secret place reserved only for the man who was to become her husband?
It was dark in the room, black and red, a single candle in each corner of the shadowy chamber giving off but feeble light. She was in a proper brass bed with a real feather mattress, not on a splintered table. No longer tied with rope, but something silky. Laid out on her back spread-eagled, her head comfortably resting on some soft pillows, not hanging over the side. There had to be some mistake. Matthew would never be party to...
"Matthew, please, we need to get out of here, now. They're coming for me. It's not safe."
He halted for a moment, surprised at the use of his name. Then he shrugged. He must have told her it when he'd come in.
He was bare and aroused, but the truth was, he wasn't so sure about this game. He had said he wanted a young clean girl. He'd examined the pretty blond with dusky eyes partly concealed behind her gauzy blindfold and found her pleasing and seemingly free of disease. But the supposed ultimate fantasy he'd been offered by the doorkeeper of the brothel when he had asked for something fresh and ripe did not sit well with him at all.
At the same time, it was a novelty. He'd dragged himself to this bawdy house at his friends' recommendation for a bit of something unusual. If he was going to debauch himself tonight after months of trying to live on the straight and narrow, he might as well do it with verve.
He was certain the girl was not a virgin. All the same, he entered into the fantasy of the evening by saying, "It's all right. They won't hurt you. I'm here. You're my willing slave now, and I shall protect you. I won't hurt you. I'll be gentle."
"But Matthew, why would you let them take me, treat me like this?"
"I didn't take you. You've been given to me. So you belong to me now," he said, whispering the tips of his fingers over her naked flesh like a miser caressing his treasure.
She sighed and licked her lips, not struggling against the curious throbbing wherever he touched her.
"Please, Matthew, water. Then you have to untie me and let me go."
"In a moment."
"Please, I'm so thirsty."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection #4 Page 51
