Secrets of a Viscount (Gentlemen of Honor) (Volume 1)
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One summer night, Sebastian Gentry, Lord Belgrave hauled the wrong young lady to Gretna Green. When her identity is exposed, the only obvious solution is to get an annulment. Only, just like his elopement plans, things didn’t go as planned and while she has reason to believe they are no longer married, he knows better. Wanting to make things right for her, he offers to help her find a husband… Isabelle Knight has just been given an unexpected fortune and is in the midst of doing what she never believed she'd have to do: spend a Season on the Marriage Mart. Finding no one who seems to catch her fancy--or even seems bearable to tolerate until death do them part--her entire world is sent spinning with the sudden appearance of none other than her former husband. Isabelle is in no position to refuse his offer to help her find a husband and reluctantly agrees, but what neither counts on is her future husband just might be the one she’s still secretly married to.
Mrs. Finch could hear their conversation. He needed to know. Belle swallowed audibly and refused to meet his eye. “He and Rachel...” “Are lovers,” he finished for her. She gave a simple shrug and looked down at her hands. “Apparently not everything made it to the continent.” He chuckled. “No. I guess not.” He straightened. “How long?” “Three months. But three months or three years or three encounters, it matters naught. I don’t want to marry a gentleman who’s carried on an affair with my
already said you’re not interested in him.” “No, I wasn’t.” She gestured to the board. “Are we to play or discuss the social calendar of Sir Wallace?” “You have the white pieces,” he reminded her. She bit her lip. She’d always hated chess and now she knew why: she couldn’t remember all the rules. Especially the most basic one of who went first. “Right.” She moved one of the men in the front row forward a space. Sebastian mirrored her move and waited for Isabelle to pick up her piece. “I don’t
is trying to say is that he’d like to have a peek at your registry, if he might.” Sebastian smiled thinly and waited for the smithy to get his grubby book from where it rested on the table in the corner. “Still canna believe yer mar’ed?” the smithy jested as he brought the book over and opened it to the most recent page. His keen eyes followed his dirty finger down the page until he reached the last line. “Here it is. Seb’as’ten Gen’ry an’ Is’belle Kni’t.” “What?” Sebastian gasped, reaching
ready for another tedious ball almost as much as she hated going to the ball itself. It would seem her folly regarding Viscount Belgrave nearly six years ago still made her a laughingstock across London Society. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to think of him again. He was the past, and Lord Kenton was the future—provided she couldn’t find another suitable match before the end of the Season. After her very brief marriage she had little recollection of the disastrous year that followed
the marriage registry or something like that that I was purposely trying to provoke you.” She blushed. “If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t have been too keen on granting any of my wishes, either.” He didn’t look too convinced. “I should have. And I’ll forever feel guilty about not.” She froze. Guilt. That’s it. That’s what all of his actions had been about. Guilt. All of his kindnesses toward her had been because he felt bad for his role in her injuries, not because he was her friend. He