A Lady in Danger: A Suspenseful Regency Romance Read online

  A Lady In Danger

  A Suspenseful Regency Romance

  Eliza McGrey

  Published by

  A Paradise for your Mind.

  © Copyright 2018 by Fable Charm - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  A Lady In Danger

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  A Lady In Danger

  Introduction

  Lady Maryanne is marrying a man that she doesn’t know. Colonel Richard Nash is a well respected man in society; a decorated war hero who now holds a place in government. Those around her claim he is charming and sophisticated, and even though he is easily twice her age, Maryanne knows that her lot is to marry and try to make the best of it. Her mother found love once, so why couldn’t she also?

  But the Colonel is a far more private man than Maryanne could have ever anticipated. He keeps his distance from her, and she is forbidden from entering certain areas in her new home. Her suspicion only grows when a young man she has never met, who was claiming to be her oldest friend, appears at her new home and reveals that the Colonel is not at all who he claims to be.

  Maryanne is whisked down a long, dark road of peril and devastating secrets. Not only is her own safety put on the line, but what she discovers could change the lives of many people forever. Filled with suspense, romance, and hope, As Darkness Falls is sure to keep you reading until the very last page.

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  About Eliza

  Eliza McGrey loves to write clean Regency romances. Her love for the era began as a teenager when she took AP European History in high school, where she was inspired to read the beloved novel “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen. Eliza couldn’t help but feel drawn to the time. She later studied Regency and Victorian Fashion and visited countless museums.

  Prologue

  It was far too late for a lady to be out on her own. Night had enveloped the city in her dark embrace, a quiet hush settling in over all the homes and streets like a blanket. The lamps flickered lazily, casting pools of light across the cobblestones, but were not nearly bright enough to push back the shadows. Anything could have been hiding in that velvety blackness.

  The city hardly slept, but tonight it was so eerily quiet, it was almost as if it had been abandoned. The windows in every home were dark, and there was no sound apart from the rush of the wind through the streets, kicking up leaves and small stones as it swept through.

  The young woman hovered beside a lamppost, her pretty face bathed in shadow as she stared down into a nearby alley. It was so dark it was as if it didn’t even exist. She couldn’t see the street anymore than she could see the walls of the building stretching into the sky on either side.

  She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing with every beat of her heart, and stepped out of the halo of light and security, and was drenched in darkness.

  Her shoes clacked on the stones as she walked, drawing her shawl more closely around her shoulders. There was a bite in the air that night; autumn was clinging on, while winter tried to gently lull the world to sleep, leeching the warmth out of everything and everyone.

  The woman’s breath hung in the air in front of her face, floating around her like tiny clouds as she walked further down into the alley. She wished she had brought a candle with her, or a lantern. Had she known it would be this dark, she wouldn’t have agreed to meet in this place.

  She knew, however, that she would never have refused such a request. To do so would go against the very core of her being, against her very own heart. It would have been personal betrayal in the highest degree, and she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself otherwise.

  Somewhere in the distance, she heard Big Ben strike the hour. It was one in the morning.

  Her heart fluttered. She’d never been out of the house so late in the evening. She scolded herself for being so frightened. She was not a little girl anymore, and knew how foolish it would be to be frightened of ghost stories.

  Rubbing her hands together, she focused on the light at the end of the alleyway where she stood. It would only take a moment or two to walk back out to the street. And this was a safe part of town, where most of the highborn families lived. Many houses were empty for the winter, at least until they came into town closer to Christmas for the start of the London Season.

  Those stories she had heard about the young women being kidnapped must have been false, or a mother’s tale for keeping their daughters from running out into the unknown darkness.

  Even still, there was something deeply unsettling about being out, alone, long after she would normally be home and in bed, asleep.

  She shook her head, standing taller. She was not a timid mouse, reduced to tears by mere darkness.

  Turning her gaze upward, she could see a few, faint stars glimmering in the sky overhead. She reassured herself. It wasn’t quite so frightening back there, was it? Perhaps this was a better place to see the stars.

  She was reminded of her childhood in that moment, when she and her family had lived out in the countryside. Every night before she went to sleep, she would stand with her mother out on the terrace and look up at the heavens above. There had been many more glittering stars there, but seeing them brought her a small sense of peace and strength.

  There was a clatter of a stone against the ground, and she lowered her gaze. Standing at the mouth of the alley were three silhouettes, obviously all men.

  At once, her body relaxed. She recognized the man in the middle.

  “Oh, my darling, I am so happy you have arrived,” she said, hearing how breathless she was. Her gloved hand rested over her heart. “I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten about me.”

  “How could I ever forget about you, my heart?” asked the man.

  He stepped further into the shadows, the two men with him following close behind.

  She hurried to meet them, and when she did, she could barely make out the man’s hand near his mouth, pressing his forefinger gently to his lips.

  She smiled. “Oh, of course, darling. I will keep quiet,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Now, will you please tell me why we had to meet here of all places instead of back at your home?”

  The man, who was tall and broad shouldered, glanced to either side before answering.
“As I said in my letter, this is a very delicate matter indeed. It is better if we are not overheard.”

  “Yes, of course, I understand,” the young woman said. “It’s just so very secretive. I almost feel as if I am in one of those mystery novels.”

  The man chuckled. “Yes, well, I suppose it does feel a bit strange, doesn’t it? So, my heart…were you able to do as I asked?” he asked, his voice a low, soothing hum.

  Her heart raced. She loved it when he called her his heart. “I did, my love. I did everything just as you asked.”

  Even in the dim light, she saw his face split into a smile. “What a relief. Thank you, my only. Now that everything has been taken care of, we can be together.”

  “Oh, I am so pleased to know that I was wrong,” she said to him, her heart swelling. “I don’t know what I would have done. You are everything to me.”

  “As you are to me,” he said, taking a step toward her.

  Her heart was like a hummingbird trapped in a cage. The closer he became to her, the more chills passed over her skin, the more breathless she felt.

  He reached out and brushed some of her golden hair out of her face, the tips of his fingers gently passing over the soft, tender flesh of her rosy cheek. “There is…one thing that I must know, my love. Something that is very important to me. If we are to be together, I have to be certain…”

  “A – anything, my darling. Please, anything,” she said. She was trembling beneath his touch, no matter how mild. She placed her own hand over his, keeping it there against her skin. His fingers were warm, and it brought peace to her once frightened spirit.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  Her eyes snapped open as she stared at him. Her heart, which had been beating so quickly, seemed to stop suddenly. She stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open.

  “My Lord…” she said, her voice barely even a whisper. “I trust you with my very life, with everything that is in me. I am yours, my darling. Everything, it is yours. You know that. Surely, you must know that.”

  “I do…” he said. “But it brings me great joy to hear you say those words. Come, my love…”

  He drew her towards him, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her.

  Her heart raced with anticipation as his lips found hers. It was as if a firework had gone off inside her mind. Pure bliss washed over her in waves as he held her tightly against him.

  She had only seen him express this much passion once, and it had left her reeling for days. There was a fierceness to his kiss, an eagerness that was strangely contrast to the gentleness that he demonstrated with her. His kiss was deep, causing the blood to rush in her ears, but his touch was delicate and loving.

  Her whole body was consumed in a warm glow, and she wanted him more, more than she had ever wanted him. A heat burned in her belly, a heat so strong that she feared it might take over if he kept kissing her the way he was.

  She gasped. The heat continued, but it had suddenly morphed into searing, white hot pain.

  Staggering backwards, out of his embrace, she looked down to find a knife wedged in her middle. The wooden handle was smooth and polished, the blade that was not sunken into her flesh glinted in the lights at the end of the alley.

  A dagger. In her stomach.

  She raised her hand and touched the blood stain that was slowly spreading out from the wound, like a glass of spilled wine on a pristine table.

  Her trembling fingers came away stained with dark blood. Her blood.

  She slowly looked up at the man who had just been kissing her so passionately…and found his dark eyes like pits of shadows, their depths obscured.

  A trickle of blood fell from the corner of her lips, and she did nothing to wipe it away.

  Her legs gave out from underneath her, but he caught her just before she hit the ground.

  “Wh…” she said. She sputtered, spraying the front of his dark jacket with blood. “Why?”

  “Trusting me was your first mistake…” he said, his eyes fixed on her in some sick, twisted form of amusement.

  She lay there, in his arms, the arms of the man that had stabbed her.

  “There, there…” he cooed at her, using the tips of his fingers to wipe away the tears that had sprung from her eyes and rolled down her face. “It’ll be over soon.”

  She couldn’t breathe. It was as if she were drowning. Somewhere in the back of her foggy mind, she knew she was dying. The pain was severe, but her fear overpowered it. This man who she loved…had betrayed her.

  “You should never have done what you did,” he said in a surprisingly calm tone. “This all could have been prevented, had you only done as I asked.”

  She stared up into his face, utter shock wiping away every thought. In those moments, she would have liked to have thought of her family, of her friends. But she thought of nothing aside from the blade that was taking her life…and the man who had turned on her so quickly.

  Her vision was fading, and she knew she only had moments. Her eyes, unfocused, moved from the man’s face to the starry night overhead.

  She would have liked to have spoken one last time, but what was the point? She was leaving this world, going onto the next.

  She took one last shuttering gasp, her eyes filled with starlight, and then sagged in the man’s arms.

  He dropped her onto the ground as if she were nothing more than a sack of flour. He snapped his fingers, pointing at her lifeless form.

  The two men who had walked into the alleyway with him moved. The first stooped to pick up her beneath her shoulders, and the other lifted her ankles.

  “Wait…” said the man. Withdrawing a handkerchief from his suitcoat, he lifted the dagger from the woman’s middle, careful not to get any more blood on him.

  The two men carried her further into the alley and around the corner behind another set of townhomes.

  The man lingered in the alley, staring down at the bloody spot the woman’s body had left. He pulled a bottle of clear liquid from his jacket and poured it directly on the ruby red pool. The blood thinned and raced toward the edge of the alleyway, following along after the rainfall left in the gutters and storm drains.

  The stench of alcohol covered the metallic tang of the blood.

  His job done, he turned away and strolled back through the night, the shadows swallowing him up, welcoming him home.

  Chapter 1

  I never cared much for mornings. At least not until I was older. I would have much preferred to stay in bed, dreaming. In dreams, I could be anything. I could be anyone. My life, ordinary and predictable, was not enough to interest me.

  Some days I was a valiant pirate, swept away in the oceans, storms roiling overhead. Lightning would crack against the deck of the ship I sailed upon, igniting the deep blue of night with glorious amber flames.

  Other days I was an explorer in distant lands, discovering ancient ruins from the depths, where the earth tried to hide its secrets. Vast lands of sand, tall mountains and dark caves, all of them were open before me. Jewels and trinkets, hidden and preserved libraries, and even castles of long forgotten people. I would find them all.

  When I came of age, I had to put away those adventures I would play as a young girl. I was told they were immature and silly, and that a lady would dedicate her life to worthwhile matters, such as learning new languages, and playing the piano forte. But in my heart, I never really outgrew that part of my life. In the dead of night, I would read those books that my father thought he’d gotten rid of. Thankfully, there were still those in our household that understood me, and didn’t think that the things I enjoyed were childish.

  It was a stormy sort of morning, which only made me want to curl up with a book beside the fire in my room even more, but I knew that my parents were expecting me at breakfast.

  I sighed as I lingered at my vanity table, running my brush through my hair for the hundredth time. It was always so soft the morning after washing it. There was a gentle wave to my long, mah
ogany tresses, something I was always sad to hide by braiding it.

  I sighed and set the brush down, getting to work tying it back. My maid servant would not be pleased that I took the liberty of doing it myself again this morning, but I was growing rather tired of her tugging and pulling, nearly tearing my hair right out of my head. She wasn’t gentle when I was a young girl, and she certainly wasn’t gentle now that I was older.

  I rose without even glancing in the mirror. I didn’t need to see my reflection any longer after having to stare at it for so long the night before. My skin was so pale that the few freckles along my cheekbones were pronounced, and mother had insisted on dabbing my lips with some kind of paint to make them seem even more red. I thought they were pink enough.

  The dress I’d worn was still hanging beside my armoire. It was a pretty piece, made of blue silk and white lace. I hadn’t picked it out, of course. One of the servants had gone into town and chosen it for me. I would have gone with a green dress, but then I would have clashed with mother, and she would not have been happy with that.

  My step father had been throwing an astronomically large number of balls at the estate lately, all of which were to marry me off to some man that I didn’t know. I hadn’t been surprised when he had first told me they were searching for a husband for me; I’d been preparing to be a wife every day of my life. That had been almost six months ago, and in that time, all it felt like I was doing was waiting.

  Oh, how I longed to be my sisters’ ages. At eighteen, I was almost ten years older than my sister Rachel, who was closest to me in age. I adored those girls, all three of them, as much as any older sister could. The difference in age helped, I think. It allowed us all to get along with one another.

  It did leave some days somewhat lonely, though. With so great a distance in our ages, those girls did not understand at all what I was having to go through. They all thought it was perfectly wonderful that I was old enough to be married, and that I should soon have a husband. They didn’t seem to think it mattered that I wouldn’t likely know who he was. In fact, they seemed to think it was rather romantic.