The Rake's Unveiling Of Lady Belle
Unravelling her secrets…The exquisite designs of mysterious dressmaker Madame Belle are the most sought after in the ton, yet only a few are trusted with Belle’s deepest secret – her name.Lady Belinda Howells has gone to great lengths to disguise her identity, it’s the only way to protect herself from the ruthless demands of her wicked father…and to protect her heart.Until Lord Phillip Macpherson walks into her salon and his scorching kiss burns a memory onto her lips that she’ll never be able to forget!Now it’s only a matter of time before the notorious rake unveils the truth, and when he does, Belle knows that she won’t be able to resist…What readers are saying about Raven McAllan:’Wonderfully written and easy to sink into – I’ll definitely look to read more from Raven McAllan!’ – Paris Baker Book Nook Reviews‘A truly delicious step back in time that has left me hungry for more. If you're a regency fan, then I suggest you delve into this, it will tease and tantalise until the very last page!’ – Becca’s Books
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Unravelling her secretsâ¦
The exquisite designs of mysterious dressmaker Madame Belle are the most sought after in the ton, yet only a few are trusted with Belleâs deepest secret â her name.
Lady Belinda Howell has gone to great lengths to disguise her identity, itâs the only way to protect herself from the ruthless demands of her wicked fatherâ¦and to protect her heart.
Until Lord Philip Macpherson walks into her salon and his scorching kiss burns a memory onto her lips that sheâll never be able to forget!
Now itâs only a matter of time before the notorious rake unveils the truth, and when he does, Belle knows that she wonât be able to resistâ¦
The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett
RAVEN McALLAN
lives in Scotland, the land of lochs, glens, mountains, haggis, men in kilts (sometimes) and midges. She enjoys all of themâexcept midges. Theyâre not known as the scourge of Scotland for nothing.
Her long-suffering husband has learned how to work the Aga, ignore the dust bunnies who share their lives, and pour the wine when necessary.
Raven loves history, which is just as well, considering she writes Regency romance, and often gets so involved in her research she forgets the time.
She loves to travel, and says she and her hubby are doing their gap year in three-week stints. All in the name of research of course.
She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her via her website www.ravenmcallan.com
Stirling Council library vans staff under the able direction of Nelson Busby
This oneâs for Paul.
Contents
Northumberland
Regency England
Really, how pathetic to have been reduced to this sort of behaviour. Skulking around like a thief.
Or a peeping Tom.
At the advanced age of fifteen she shouldnât still be able to climb trees like a hoyden or indeed if she could, she ought to reject the notion out of hand. Nevertheless, needs must. After all how else would she be able to stay out of sight and drool at the way Phillip, Lord Macphersonâthe recipient of all her childhood hero worship and dreamsâtouched the young damsel heâd taken into the barn, and then into the hayloft of his ancestral estate? Thank goodness they hadnât thought to close the doors where the hay would be tossed down from inside the loft to the ground. That open aperture gave her the perfect view.
Belinda shivered and went hot and cold, as she clung on to the swaying branch of the old oak tree at the edge of the meadow as if it was about to break. She stared at it dubiously, but any lower and she could well be seen. That really would be beyond the pale.
It wasnât solely the thought of being discovered that had her legs wrapped around the trunk and her arms the branch, but also the scenario that unfolded in front of her that had her transfixed.
Luckily the man and woman whom she spied upon were oblivious to her presence. Indeed they were so wrapped up in each other, Belinda doubted they would notice her if she ran in front of them naked, waved madly, and shouted beware of the bull, or the hayloft is on fire.
Not that she intended to. She needed to observe and learn.
She let her body sag, just a little, to enable her to watch as the couple sank into the soft bed of hay.
I hope a stalk goes where no stalk ever should.
The long strands of hay embraced them and Belinda tilted her head and squinted to peruse better. Lord Phillip muttered something to his companion that Belinda couldnât hear, as he proceeded to nibble the neck of the lady, who wriggled and squirmed.
Sheâll get marks on her gown if sheâs not careful and how is she going to explain that away?
Phillip made his nibbling way lower, downward from his companionâs neck and⦠Belinda blinked and opened her eyes in a hurry so as not to miss anything.
Would he ever caress her, Belinda, like that? Bare her breasts and put his lips to her skin? Lift her skirts and move his hand upwards? Upwards to where? Her imagination ran riot. Surely not to those places she touched herself? Did a gentleman do such things? If he tried, would she let him succeed? The hay hid exactly what he did, and even if she hung down like a monkey in the Royal Menagerie she just couldnât quite see what was going on. However⦠The ladyâs skirts went high into the air and they covered his lordshipâs head.
Oh, my.
For a brief moment Belinda allowed herself to imagine it was herself, not that beastly Lady Rosemary Minchin with Lord Phillip and she, not Rosemary, was letting him do all those things.
What did he see in Rosemary? She had a shrill and grating laugh, and treated those younger than herself with disdain, or even malice. Plus, it was generally agreed her eyes were unkind. Belinda didnât know one lady who had a good word for Lady Rosemary, and it wasnât generally down to sour grapes. According to Clarissa, Phillipâs sister, not a lot of gentlemen thought much of the woman after even a short association.
