Lady Valentine's Affair

Chapter One

Lady Valentine's Affair

Melissa Lynne Blue

One

February 11, 1819

One particularly cold night... in London...

Gwen Stratford smoothed her fingers along the low cut bodice of her ice-blue silk gown. Nervous energy coursed through her veins as she stared at the rather indecent display of her décolletage. Never in her life had she worn anything so daring, but then she'd never before had a reason to be daring. She flicked a critical gaze over her reflection. Pale silk clung provocatively to her slender frame and enunciated her rather generous curves. She gulped, uncertain if she looked utterly ridiculous or like the vivacious vixen she hoped to portray. The dressmaker, Mrs. Holmes, had insisted the cool fabric offset her ivory complexion and pale blue eyes brilliantly, but Gwen wasn't so sure. Tonight needed to be perfect. There was no room for error. Tonight... she risked everything.

A flash of panic surged through her, but she stuffed it back. She couldn't get cold feet now. She had waited too long for this. She was falling in love.

Love!

This was her one chance at happiness. Starved for affection, she was tired of living half a life. Tonight's masquerade ball was the perfect venue for a clandestine rendezvous. No one would recognize her behind the decorative mask that covered all but her mouth, and no one would ever suspect it was she swathed in this bold gown. She closed her eyes, thinking of Colin—

"What is the meaning of this?" The bedchamber door exploded inward admitting the brooding figure of her husband, Anthony Stratford, the Marquis Valentine. Tall and broad, his figure eclipsed the open doorway. Thick raven hair fell half-hazard over his forehead, framing his dark, fury-filled eyes. He wore no waistcoat or cravat and the charcoal vest enhanced the powerful set of his shoulders, adding to the air of danger he exuded.

Gwen took an involuntary step backward. "Lord Valentine! Wh-what are you doing here? Why are you in London."

His eyes flashed. "Business," he growled.

Despite his intimidating stature Gwen's ire prickled. Business. Of course it was business. It was always business. Never, To see you... or, Because I missed you...

"It has come to my attention that you intend to take a lover."

Gwen stilled and her blood ran cold. How had he known?

Valentine lifted a folded sheet of paper. "This letter is from Lord Colin Littlefield to you. It seems he cannot wait for Lady Markson's masquerade so that the two of you might take the next step in your relationship." He flipped a cool gaze between her and the decorative mask resting on her vanity.