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       ‘Who was at the door just now?’

      It seemed the summons had not been necessary. Lillian was standing on the main staircase. She looked as beautiful as he remembered—and as enigmatic. Gerry felt the same tightening in his throat that had come upon him the day they’d met. This time he fought against it. While it might be fashionable to moon over another man’s wife, it did not do to be so affected by one’s own.

      He straightened to parade-perfect attention, then grinned up at her.

      ‘No one in particular. Merely your husband, madam.’

      Her head snapped up to see him. Her face shuttled through half a dozen expressions, trying to settle on one that could both express her emotions and welcome him properly. He was pretty sure that none of what he saw resembled gratitude or joy. But before any of it could truly register her knees began to fold under her.

       Author Note

      When working on this book I spent a lot of time researching the popular pastimes of a gentleman’s house party. I am not much of a card player myself. Actually, I’m not much of a pool player either. But I found the changes in the game of billiards to be really interesting.

      First, we are talking proper British billiards—with red and white balls as opposed to the multi-coloured rack that we Americans use. These balls began as wood, which would have been uneven and hard to use. If Gerry Wiscombe learned to play with those, they were household antiques. By the Regency everyone was using ivory.

      The table he played on would have been made of wood, not slate. To minimise warping, the surface under the felt was made with strips of wood, with the grains going in different directions. This was covered by baize, which needed to be ironed before each game to remove the wrinkles. There would have been a special iron in the room for this, which our cheating Ronald in this story has not used.

      And although by the Regency almost everyone had switched to using a cue, the original stick had a clubbed end and was called a mace. It was difficult to use for some shots, and serious players would turn it around and use the pointed end. Eventually everyone decided that the handle was better than the clubbed head, and that’s how we got cues.

      Thanks for reading!

      The Secrets of

      Wiscombe Chase

      Christine Merrill

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CHRISTINE MERRILL lives on a farm in Wisconsin, USA, with her husband, two sons, and too many pets—all of whom would like her to get off of the computer so they can check their e-mail. She has worked by turns in theatre costuming and as a librarian. Writing historical romance combines her love of good stories and fancy dress with her ability to stare out of the window and make stuff up.

      To Kevin McElroy and Wayne White. Congratulations from someone who knew you when …

      

      ‘Love is something eternal. The aspect may change, but not the essence.’

      —Vincent van Gogh

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       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

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      ‘Miss North, would you do me the honour of accepting my hand in holy matrimony?’

      Lillian North did her best to smile at the unfortunate boy kneeling before her on

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