Improper Wager: Scandalous Encounters #Excerpt

Sometimes the turn of a card changes your life.

Two years ago, Isabella Harrington defied her parents and society, and ran off with her lover to Milan. They thought they'd conquer the world at the gaming tables. But her dream of happily-ever-after led to nothing but debts and a shattered heart.

Abandoned and left on her own in a foreign city with little but her wits and skill, Isabella managed to survive. Survive and thrive, commanding the cards until she won enough to send for a very particular matchmaker.

Isabella needed a way back into the society she shunned and what better way than through a proper, aristocratic marriage? And this matchmaker of note would be her key back home to England.

Traveling the Continent, Jonathon, Duke of Strathmore, agreed to meet the mysterious Miss Harrington. Wary of the rumors surrounding her, a woman who vanished from London with only scandalous tales left in her wake, he hadn't counted on the intriguing Isabella to thoroughly capture his attention.

Will a game of cards change both their fates? Will she become a mistress or a duchess?

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Chapter One

Milan, Italy

May 1817

“Merciless animals stalk and devour their prey,” Isabella Harrington muttered. She watched a large, ragged dog slip down an alleyway across from her townhouse. He was surely hunting and some poor creature would soon meet its end.

Isabella now understood just how merciless Manning Bradford, like the wild dog, had truly been. He’d left her injured and beaten. If not in body then in spirit and heart.

His vicious words still taunted her, and when he left her, alone in a foreign city, only then had she seen that she’d never been his love. She was simply, always, his prey.

The lesson had been hard learned and hard lived.

But that lesson also taught her, prepared her, to relinquish the young girl Isabella had been for the woman who refused to allow the mistake of loving Manning Bradford to define her life.

The bracelet pinched her left wrist. She’d fastened it too tightly. Again. Isabella pushed and pulled the offending gold and peridot adornment but refused to loosen it. No, she wore it to serve as her reminder, a reminder of the man who gave the piece she once considered beautiful, but now saw as a testimonial to her own weakness.

Thirteen months since he’d left. Thirteen months living alone. The man she’d trusted with her future, her life, gone.

Loneliness and hurt clung to her like the stench of cheap tallow candles clung to her parlor walls. Isabella wanted nothing more than to be able to go back to her youthful self and choose differently.

She’d spent months wrenching herself free of the muck and mire. Months wallowing in self-pity, but needing to survive.

Survive was all she’d done.

The pungent scent of lemon oil permeated the front parlor, almost but not quite strong enough to hide the tallow used in their candles. The mixture of lemon and tallow made her stomach churn.

Turning from the window, she let the curtains fall and quickly crossed her small parlor to the nook beside the fireplace and retrieved the bottle of lemon oil. Isabella splashed some onto the rag and, with an energy born of nerves, wiped down the mantle.

She pressed hard into the wood, moving the rag over it again and again, trying to wipe her mind clear from her past as she did so. She rubbed the oil into the wood until only the scent of fresh polish filled the room. Until her stomach calmed and the sickening scent of tallow faded.

Just as she’d done the day she realized she hadn’t enough money to live out the month, as she realized she’d nowhere to go, as she’d forced herself out of bed to wash away the tears she’d shed over Manning, now Isabella forced herself to take the next step forward.

She ignored the nerves dancing through her, squashing them until all that remained was her pride, her determination, and her will to not merely survive, but to thrive. This was her fresh start, and she’d not allow anyone to hold her back, not any longer.

The front door creaked open and she heard, her one manservant, Nicolo usher her guest into the foyer.

This was it, the first step in reclaiming her life and in putting the mistakes of her youth behind her. Isabella nearly laughed at that — she’d experienced more in the previous two years than most young women of her stature experienced in their entire lives.

And she would create a life where she held her head high with pride and dignity against all the gossips and vicious stories. End this cold and lonely existence.

Isabella smoothed a hand down her gown. With her chin high, as regal as her respectable upbringing taught her, she watched Mrs. Camilla Primsby enter the sparsely furnished parlor. Mrs. Primsby was the tool Isabella planned to use as her reintroduction to proper society. She was well known for her successful — and more importantly discreet — matches.

So much so that at no small expense, won from many nights spent at the Milanese gaming tables, Isabella sent for Mrs. Primsby. If she were to polish her tarnished reputation, to salvage what was left of it, she needed someone of Mrs. Primsby’s esteem.

Still, she found it difficult to trust her future to such an unknown quality. Isabella had heard much about the renowned matchmaker before she’d left London. However, Isabella had spent the last thirteen months and ten days trusting no one save herself.

“Signora Primsby,” Nicolo announced with a bow.

Wednesday Regency: What kind of Regency woman are you?

When I brainstorm new Regency stories, I come up with the normal troupes then turn them on their heads. It's easier to do it with a menage *G* but I wanted to write a couple stories with ruined women and how they reclaim their places in society.

Here are the Regency Women Troupes-do you agree? Disagree? Did I miss any?

Wallflower: A delicate blossom who prefers to view the word from a safe distance. You watch as others make merry and hope a potential suitor will notice your keen observation skills rather than your conversation. And of course, in the world of Regency Romance, he will.

Your best suitors: In the grand Regency tradition he’ll either be an extroverted rake tamed by your serenity or a like minded professor who prefers a fireplace, a book, and you to a grand ball.

Trouble Magnet: If there’s trouble, you’ll find it. And find it in a grand and speculator manner. If the spy is threatened by a pistol-wielding villain somehow you will find yourself walking in on the scene. But as any good Regency Romance will attest, just as you attract trouble, you have the luck to slip out of it.

Your best suitors: The spy you’ve just saved, a daring duke, or a swashbuckling rake, all of whom will concede they need your wits as surely as they love your witty charm.

Governess or Companion: Always in service and yet always part of the background, you wonder about the other way of life. You might be coy or professional, but you will always be the perfect complement to your suitor. Naturally, in Regency tradition, the master of the house will certainly notice you.

Your best suitors: The assertive master of the house will always need your indispensability, wits, and charm by his side.

Innocent Maiden: A delicate white rose blossom whose petals have yet to mature and untried in the ways of love. Your eye is easily and often turned by a handsome suitor, but you are no fool. While you might be inexperienced, you’re still clever and sharp enough to recognize a rake. It’s true that on occasion a particularly devious rake might seek an advantage, but no worries—in a Regency Romance you can easily dispatch the scoundrel.

Your best suitors: A chivalrous earl who seeks to enjoy your company, beauty, and to protect your honor.

Not-so Innocent Maiden: Like a rose vine, you’re beautiful but flexible enough to twine into the most interesting corners. You already have a suitor (or 2!) you’ve managed to keep hidden from the rest of society. You know the proper etiquette, but can also cover your tracks and can expertly slip away for a secret rendezvous.

Your best suitors: The gentleman able to keep all your secrets. You know the one; he dresses perfectly, with a membership to the best gentleman’s club. And he never boasts or gossips about you, because you’re his perfect match

Curious Adventuress: Like the lotus flower, you can grow and flourish almost anywhere. Mystery and adventure call to you, and you have the persistent habit of finding it. Unlike the Trouble Magnet, you’re able to keep a low profile. Stealth can be a talent.

Your best suitors: A man who relishes adventure just as you do; one who will be your partner in exploring the new and unknown, as well as exploring every curve of your body.

Bookworm: Unlike the rare blossom that is the Wallflower, you are more like a sunflower, absorbing new knowledge as the sunflower strains towards the sun. You’re ravenous for mental stimulation; you don’t simply escape in a fantasy though that is a welcome diversion. You seek answers and are a great puzzle solver.

Your best suitors: The serious man—a professor or scientist with as much yearning to learn as you do. But you know just how to capture his attention, and his only distraction is you.