One Unashamed Night
The awakening of Beatrice… Living in a grey world of silhouette, Lord Taris Wellingham conceals his fading eyesight from Society. He has long protected himself from any intimate relationships. Plain, twenty-eight-year-old Beatrice-Maude Bassingstoke does not expect to attract any man, especially not one as good-looking as her remote travelling companion.Forced by a snowstorm to spend the night together, these two lonely people seek solace in each other’s arms. The passion they unleash surprises them both. How will their lives change with the coming of the new day?
Читать One Unashamed Night онлайн беплатно
Praise for Sophia James
HIGH SEAS TO HIGH SOCIETY
‘James weaves her spell, captivating readers with wit and wisdom, and cleverly combining humour and poignancy with a master’s touch in this feel-good love story.’
—RT Book Reviews
MASQUERADING MISTRESS
‘Bold and tantalising, plotted like a mystery and slowly exposing each layer of the multi-dimensional plot and every character’s motivations, James’s novel is a page-turner.’
—RT Book Reviews
ASHBLANE’S LADY
‘An excellent tale of love, this book is more than a romance; it pulls at the heartstrings and makes you wish the story wouldn’t end.’
—RT Book Reviews
To lie with a man in a snow-filled night, safe after adversity.
A man with a man’s body, a man’s tastes, the smell of his skin woody and strong, his muscles even in the dimness defined and substantive. She was presented with a fine handsome man and a night that would hold no questions.
The ghost of a smile played around Bea’s lips before sense reined it in. Of course she could not take advantage of the situation. She was a lady and a widow. Besides, already she thought his body had relaxed into sleep, the even cadence of his breath confirming it. To him she was nothing more than a warm skin to survive against. When the tip of her finger reached out to the ridge of his shoulderblade and traced the muscle in air, she wished that she might have been braver and truly touched him.
So unwise, another voice cautioned, the knowledge of her plainness leading only to rejection that would be embarrassing to them both.
Sophia James lives in Chelsea Bay, on Auckland, New Zealand’s, North Shore, with her husband, who is an artist, and 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.
Previous novels by the same author:
FALLEN ANGEL
ASHBLANE’S LADY HIGH SEAS TO HIGH SOCIETY MASQUERADING MISTRESS KNIGHT OF GRACE
MISTLETOE MAGIC
(part of Christmas Betrothals)
ONE UNASHAMED NIGHT has characters you will have met in HIGH SEAS TO HIGH SOCIETY.
Look for Cristo’s story. Coming soon.
AUTHOR NOTE
ONE UNASHAMED NIGHT is the second book in a family trilogy about the three Wellingham brothers, Asher, Taris and Cristo. Asher, the Duke of Carisbrook, appeared in HIGH SEAS TO HIGH SOCIETY, and I received many letters from fans who were fascinated by his younger brother, Taris, and wanted to read his story.
Well, here he is! Lord Taris Wellingham is an intensely private man, and one who keeps the world at bay in order to preserve his greatest secret. Cristo’s book is yet to come. He has had only a vague mention so far, but as a spy for England in France he has his own demons and distance.
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 with and belief in all of my books.
Table of Contents
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 V denoting perhaps a genteel upbringing in the north?
With care he turned away, fingers stiff against the silver ball on top of his ebony cane and all his defences raised.
‘I would ask for your forgiveness for my lapse in manners, madam.’
The small laugh surprised him. ‘Oh. You do indeed have it, sir.’
This time there was decided humour in her tone, and something more hidden. He wished he was able to see the hue of her eyes or the shade of her hair, but any form of colour had long since gone, leached now even in full sunlight and replaced by the grey sludge of silhouette.
A netherworld. His world. And the ability to hide his disability was all the dignity left to him.
Taking a breath he held it, seeking in silence a path to follow. He pretended to read the watch on the chain at his waist, hating such deceit, but in company it was what he had been reduced to—a man on the edge of his world and in danger of falling off.
