LITMIR.BIZ

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      Cover Copy

      There’s more to love than meets the eye…

      The daughter of a wealthy merchant, Sophia Russell has no interest in marriage, especially after a recent humiliation—and especially not to Maximilian, Marquess of Devereaux. But it’s the only way to save herself from fortune hunters—and those who wish to seize a powerful connection she prefers to keep secret—even from her future husband…

      Marrying Sophia is the only way Max can regain the wealth his father squandered on an extravagant country palace. And while Max and his bride are civil, theirs is clearly a marriage of convenience—until a family enemy takes a questionable interest in Sophia—one that may lead all the way to the throne. Forced to become allies in a battle they hadn’t foreseen, the newlyweds soon grow closer—and discover a love, and a passion, they never expected…

      “Lynne Connolly writes Georgian romances with a deft touch. Her characters amuse, entertain and reach into your heart. This book is a Must Read.”

      --Desiree Holt

      Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Books by Lynne Connolly

      Emperors of London Series

      Rogue In Red Velvet, Book One

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      Temptation Had Green Eyes

      Emperors of London Series

      Lynne Connolly

      LYRICAL PRESS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Copyright

      Lyrical Press books are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2014 by Lynne Connolly

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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      Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

      First Electronic Edition: February 2015

      eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-570-7

      eISBN-10: 1-61650-570-2

      First Print Edition: February 2015

      ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-594-3

      ISBN-10: 1-61650-594-X

      Printed in the United States of America

      Author’s Foreword

      In 1745, Charles James Stuart, aka Bonnie Prince Charlie, fled the country. Legend says he never returned. But he did.

      Chapter 1

      Maximilian Wallace, Marquess of Devereaux, strode through London’s crowded streets, feeling completely at home. With the dexterity of a seasoned Londoner, Max dodged past an urchin who appeared determined to collide with him—and probably relieve him of his purse at the same time. That boy’s Wednesday haul would be absent one fine linen kerchief and a purse heavy with guineas.

      Max reached his destination and flattened his palm over the weathered paint of the door to Lloyd’s coffee house. As he shoved it open, he breathed in the intoxicating fragrance of coffee and tobacco.

      A group of men sat in the worn leather-upholstered chairs by the fire, puffing on long-stemmed churchwarden pipes. More sat at the long, plain tables, making deals that would cause even a duke to gulp. Max had made many in his time.

      This place had been part of Max’s life since he’d attained the age of sixteen and discovered the state of the family’s finances.

      Spotting the man he’d come to meet, Max made his way past the tables and cubicles to the one Thomas Russell occupied, in the corner, where they wouldn’t be overheard. Men nodded to him and he returned the acknowledgement. He was well known here, despite his title, not because of it. Men of the City had little time for aristocrats. He liked the busy hum of people doing business. Lloyd’s was the center for insurance and shipping matters and as such could get very noisy at times. Not today. Obviously, no large ships or cargoes were in dispute.

      Russell stood as Max approached. He was smiling broadly, his round, apparently guileless face displaying nothing but bonhomie and pleasure. That was part of his danger. Max had been trying to work with Russell for years but had never before gathered the capital to make an investment of this size and importance. With this deal, Max would become an insurer in his own right. His fortune would expand beyond anything he’d achieved, his future secure. So much was balanced on this transaction that he was keyed up beyond the level he considered possible. Not that he allowed any of it to show.

      Max went on guard at Russell’s words. When Russell showed that untroubled, smiling face, he had something on his mind. A twist in the deal?

      Mentally, Max went through the complicated contract he knew by heart. They’d made a few tiny amendments, none of which threatened to wreck this agreement, and that was all. Nothing. But this man was planning something. Russell hadn’t climbed the tree to become one of the wealthiest men in the precious square mile known as the City of London by being pleasant to everyone.

      Russell was in many ways the epitome of the City businessman. Dressed in sober, though excellent, clothes, today of russet brown with spotlessly clean linen and a simple bob-wig, he was neither this nor that, neither ostentatious nor puritanical. Keeping a steady course between all factions had gone a long way to his success. His shining face spoke both of his attention to cleanliness and the heat in this place. Whatever the temperature outside, it was never cold in Lloyd’s, due to the huge fire kept burning well into April and the hot air rising from the discussions.

      A waiting-woman approached him. Max gave her a friendly smile and asked for tea. No women were allowed here except for the serving girls and the lady sitting behind the desk by the door, where the customers paid before they left. Knowing the caliber of some of the women in the City, Max wondered that none of them had stormed the citadel before. Perhaps they disliked tobacco smoke. Or preferred to use agents, as many of the City’s other investments did.

      Max had always conducted his business for himself. Just as well, since he couldn’t afford an agent when he first started to make deals at the tender age of seventeen. He’d had to use the estate trustees to commission the actual business and sign the documents until he came of age. Now, partly due to the man who took a seat at the table across from him, he could afford much more. He was as wealthy as anyone in this room, and that was saying something.

      He waited on events. One thing Max had learned over the years was the value of silence.

      “You were concerned about the quantity of barrels on the lower deck?”

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