LOST IN TEMPTATION
Lauren Royal
Author's Cut Edition
Novelty Press
LOST IN TEMPTATION by Lauren Royal - Author's Cut Edition
Published by Novelty Books, a division of Novelty Publishers, LLC, 848 N. Rainbow Blvd, Suite 4390, Las Vegas NV 89107
Originally published in paperback by Penguin Putnam Inc.
COPYRIGHT © Lauren Royal 2005, 2012
ISBN 978-1-938907-09-8
8th Edition, March 2015
Cover by Kimberly Killion
Book Design by Typesetter For Mac
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any manner whatsoever, electronically, in print, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both Lauren Royal and Novelty Books, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Authors work months or years on their books and need to feed their families, just like you do. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Learn more about the author and her books at LaurenRoyal.com.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
Book Description
More Chase Family Books
A Message from Lauren...
Dedication
Prologue: It was almost like touching him.
1: "Not all of it!" Alexandra Chase made a mad grab...
2: For the first time in seven years, Tristan rode over Cainewood Castle's...
3: "You look lovely, Alexandra."
4: Alexandra sat at her gold-and-white Chippendale dressing table...
5: Alexandra was shocked at Juliana's bold suggestion...
6: "I see," Alexandra said and immediately turned to leave.
7: "Murder?" Alexandra's elbows gave out...
8: Breakfast the next morning was a damned uncomfortable meal.
9: "Lady St. Quentin," Alexandra said that afternoon...
10: Two days later, Griffin woke on the wrong side of the bed.
11: "What's going on here?" Griffin asked a few days later...
12: "That was delicious." In the shade of the large elm...
13: The next month passed in a whirl of preparations for the ball.
14: Tristan's assessment of the drainage problem...
15: Rachael certainly seemed more businesslike than he remembered...
16: "Rachael!" Alexandra and her sisters rushed across the drawing room...
17: The gray day had finally delivered on its promise, and rain pattered...
18: Boniface's pretty face was even prettier with red cheeks.
19: With only a day and a half left before the ball...
20: In contrast to Tristan's mood, the atmosphere in the drawing room...
21: There were no wallflowers at Cainewood Castle's ball.
22: When the elegant supper was all but finished...
23: "What do you think of my son?"
24: Before any servants could arrive to help, Alexandra...
25: Alexandra was having the most extraordinary, most incredible...
26: His thoughts still murky, Tristan watched Alexandra...
27: There was an empty space at the breakfast table.
28: Alexandra sighed as she watch the last of their guests' carriages...
29: "What the devil are you doing up so late?...
30: Tristan could scarcely believe he was a married man.
31: "We're almost home," Alexandra heard softly in her ear.
32: Light supper at Hawkridge turned out to be a three-course meal.
33: Obviously surprised at the question, Alexandra pulled away.
34: Alexandra woke first and watched Tris sleep...
35: An hour later, Alexandra and a large platter of gingerbread cakes...
36: It had started raining around sunset and hadn't let up since.
37: Tristan woke in his study.
38: It took a lot of sugar cakes to feed a village.
39: Tristan arrived home that evening eager to see Alexandra.
40: "Sweet heaven, what is that noise?" Alexandra asked...
41: There were times in a woman's life when she wished she could confer with her sisters.
42: Delicate notes from the harpsichord greeted Tristan...
43: The nightgown was only the first of the scandalous garments...
44: Alexandra lay in her marriage bed, stunned.
45: "Good morning, my lady." Peggy bustled into the bedroom...
46: Clucking her tongue, Peggy placed a glass of water by Alexandra's bedside.
47: All that long afternoon and evening, Alexandra had a lot of time to think.
48: The next day, Alexandra was not good as new.
49: "Peggy thinks Maude is dead," Alexandra told Tristan...
50: When Maude's door closed behind them, Alexandra and Tris...
51: Alexandra was still snug in bed when she heard...
Epilogue: Two weeks later, on the peaceful rise overlooking Griffin's vineyard...
Thank You!
Bonus Material
Author's Note
Books by Lauren Royal
Regency Chase Family Tree
Excerpt from TEMPTING JULIANA
Contest
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Jewels of Historical Romance
Contact Information
BOOK DESCRIPTION
England, 1815
The eldest of three sisters, Lady Alexandra Chase has always done what was expected of her. But when the man she's loved since her girlhood returns from a long spell abroad, she quite suddenly finds herself hoping the fine lord her brother has picked for her won't propose. She decides that if he does, she'll quite improperly turn him down--that is, until the man of her hopes and dreams informs her he has no intention of marrying her.
The last time Tristan Nesbitt saw Alexandra, he was a common man with no hope of ever wedding the daughter of a marquess. Seven years later, he's now Lord Hawkridge, which should make him eminently suitable for the woman who long ago captured his heart. But a dreadful scandal has tarnished his name in England—a scandal so horrid that marrying Alexandra would ruin not only her flawless reputation but her whole family. For Alexandra's own good, he must fight his relentless desires and stay far away…
MORE CHASE FAMILY BOOKS
For more information, click on a cover.
Chase Family Series
Regency Chase Family Series
Renaissance Chase Family Series
Boxed Sets
A MESSAGE FROM LAUREN…
It’s not common for an author to center all her novels around a single family, but by the time I began writing in the Regency period, I had fallen in love with the Chase family.
The Chases came to me all at once. For my first books, I wanted to write about people who were affected by their times, and 17th century England seemed like the perfect storm of political and social upheaval. So the Chase siblings were born: strong personalities forged through childhood experiences of war, exile, and tragedy.
After their 7-book series, I was ready for a new direction but I wasn’t willing
to leave the Chases behind! They felt as real to me as my own family. So I created a new generation of Chases in the elegant Regency era. I had a lot of fun tying these characters together across the centuries. Though over a hundred years had passed, traces of the original Chases are woven into the Regency novels, hidden in old portraits, hereditary traits, and family legend (the truth of which astute readers will know better than the Regency Chases do!).
My daughter and I are now writing Chase books set in the Renaissance era, so the tradition continues. Will I ever write about a different family? I can’t say for sure, but I'm not ready to walk away from the Chases yet!
I love to keep in touch with my readers! Join my e-newsletter to receive free and bargain book suggestions each week as well as new release bulletins. And if you fall in love with the Chase Family, I'd be thrilled to see you in my Readers’ Group on Facebook, where I share sneak peeks and gather suggestions from my favorite readers!
There are so many great romance novels out there—thank you for choosing mine. I so hope you’ll enjoy Tristan and Alexandra’s story.
Happy reading!
To see the Regency Chase Family Tree, click here!
For Terri Castoro,
critique partner extraordinaire.
Thanks for sticking with me
through thick and thin.
PROLOGUE
Cainewood Castle, the South of England
Summer 1808
IT WAS ALMOST like touching him.
Lady Alexandra Chase usually sketched a profile in just a few minutes, but she took her time today, lingering over the experience in the darkened room. Standing on one side of a large, framed pane of glass while Tristan sat sideways on the other, she traced his shadow cast by the glow of a candle. Her pencil followed his strong chin, his long, straight nose, the wide slope of his forehead, capturing his image on the sheet of paper she'd tacked to her side of the glass. Noticing a stray lock that tumbled down his brow, she hesitated, wanting to make certain she caught it just right.
Someone walked by the open door, causing Tris's shadow to flicker as the candle wavered. "Are you finished yet?" he asked from behind the glass panel.
"Hold still," she admonished, resisting the urge to peek around at him. "Artistry requires patience."
"This is a profile, not oil on canvas."
True, and she often wished she had the talent to paint, like her youngest sister, Corinna. But the fact that she was missing something Corinna had—that elusive, innate ability to see things others missed and convey them in color, light, and shade—didn't keep her from taking pride in her own hobby.
Alexandra made excellent profile portraits.
She'd been asking Tris to sit for her for years, but he'd never seemed to find time before. "You promised you'd sit still," she reminded him, knowing better than to read malice into his comment. "Just this once before you leave."
"I'm sitting," he said, and although his profile remained immobile, she could hear the laughter in his voice.
She loved that evidence of his control, just like she loved everything about Tris Nesbitt.
She'd been eight when they first met. Her favorite brother, Griffin, had brought him home between terms at school. In the many years since, as he and Griffin completed Eton and then Oxford, Tris had visited often, claiming to prefer his friend's large family to the quiet home he shared with his father.
Alexandra couldn't remember when she'd fallen in love, but she felt like she'd loved Tris forever.
Of course, nothing would ever come of it. Now, at fifteen, she was practical enough to accept that her father, the formidable Marquess of Cainewood, would never allow her to marry plain Mr. Tristan Nesbitt.
But that didn't stop her from wishing she could. It didn't stop her stomach from tingling when she heard his low voice, didn't stop her heart from skipping when she felt herself caught in his intense, silver-gray gaze.
Not that he directed his gaze her way often. It wasn't that he was unfriendly, but, after all, as far as he was concerned she was little more than Griffin's pesky younger sister.
Knowing Tris couldn't see her now, she skimmed her fingertips over his shadow, wishing she were touching him instead. She'd never touched him, not in real life. Such intimacy simply didn't occur between young ladies and men. Most especially between a marquess's daughter and an untitled man's son.
The drawing room's draperies were shut, and the resulting dimness seemed to afford them an odd closeness alone in the room. She traced the flow of his cravat illuminated through the glass onto her paper. "Where are you going again?" she asked, although she knew.
"Jamaica. My uncle wishes me to look after his interests. He owns a plantation there; I'm to learn how it's run."
He sounded sad. During this visit he'd seemed sad quite a bit. "Is that what you wish to do with your life?"
"He doesn't mean for me to stay there permanently. Only to acquaint myself with the operation so I can make intelligent decisions from afar."
"But do you wish to become his man of business? Do you want to manage his properties? Or would you rather do something else?"
He shrugged, his profile tilting, then settling back into the lines she'd so carefully drawn. "He financed my entire education. Have I a choice?"
"I suppose not." Her choices were limited, too. "How long will you be gone?"
"A year at the least, probably two, perhaps three."
Everything was changing. Griffin would leave soon as well—their father had bought him a commission in the cavalry. Although Griffin and Tris had spent much of the past few years at school and university, these new developments seemed different. They'd be across oceans. It wasn't that Alexandra would be alone—she'd still have her parents and her grandmother, her oldest brother and her two younger sisters—but she was already feeling the loss.
"Two or three years," she echoed, knowing Griffin would likely be gone even longer. "That seems a lifetime."
Tris's image shimmied as he laughed out loud. "I expect it might, to one as young as you."
He wasn't that much older, only one-and-twenty. But she supposed he'd seen a lot in the extra six years he had on her. Young men left home as adolescents to pursue their educations. They spent time hunting at country houses and carousing about London.
While she didn't exactly chafe at her own more restrictive life, she was counting the years and months until she'd turn eighteen and have her first season. She'd spent hour upon hour imagining the balls, the parties, and all the eligible young lords. One of those titled men would be her entrée to a new life as a society wife. A more exciting life, she hoped. And she would love her husband, she was certain, although right now she could hardly imagine loving any man besides Tris.
He'd never indicated any interest in her, but of course he wouldn't. As well as she, Tris knew his place. But that didn't stop her from wishing she knew whether he cared.
Just whether or not he cared.
"Will you bring me something from Jamaica?" she asked, startling herself with her boldness.
"Like what?" She heard astonishment in his voice. "A pineapple or some sugarcane?"
It was her turn to laugh. "Anything. Surprise me."
"All right, then. I will." He fell silent a moment, as though trying to commit the promise to memory. "Are you finished yet?"
"For now." She set down her pencil and walked to the windows, drew back the draperies, and blinked. The room's familiar blue-and-salmon color scheme suddenly seemed too bright.
She turned toward him, reconciling his face with the profile she'd just sketched. From the boy she'd met years ago, he'd grown into a handsome, masculine man—one might even say he looked arresting. But she wouldn't describe him as pretty. His jaw was too strong, his mouth too wide, his brows too heavy and straight. As she watched, he raked a hand through his hair—tousled, streaky dark blond hair that always seemed just a bit too long.
Her fingers itched to run through it, to sweep the stray lock from his foreh
ead.
"It will take me a while to complete the portrait," she told him as she walked back to where he sat beside the glass, "but I'll have it ready for you before you leave."
"Keep it for me."
She blew out the candle, leaning close enough to catch a whiff of his scent, smelling soap and starch and something uniquely Tris. "Don't you want it?"
He rose from the chair, smiling down at her from his greater height. "I'll probably lose it if I take it with me."
"Very well, then." She'd been hoping he'd say she should keep it to remember him by. But as always, Tris was the perfect gentleman. If he did harbor any affection for her, he wouldn't betray so with such a remark. "I wish you a safe journey, Mr. Nesbitt."
She'd called him Tristan—or Tris—for years now, but suddenly that seemed too informal.
His gray gaze remained steady. "Thank you, Lady Alexandra. I wish you a happy life."
A happy life. She could be married by the time he returned, she realized with a shock. In fact, if he were gone three years, she very likely would be.
Her heart sank at the thought.
But at least she'd have his profile. When she was finished, it would be black on white in an elegant oval frame, a perfect likeness of his face. And she'd almost touched him while making it.
As he walked from the room, she peeled the paper off the glass and hugged it to her chest.
ONE
RATAFIA PUFFS
Take halfe a pound of Ground Almonds and a little more than that of Sugar. Make it up in a stiff paste with Whites of five Eggs and a little Essence of Almond whipt to a Froth. Beat it all well in a Mortar, and make it up in little Loaves, then bake them in a very cool oven on Paper and Tin-Plates.
I call these my magical sweets…my husband proposed directly after eating only one!
—Eleanor, Marchioness of Cainewood, 1728
Lost in Temptation (Regency Chase Family Series, Book 1) Page 1
