A Matter of Sin

Scandal between the pages…surrender between the sheets.

The Ladies Book of Pleasures, Book 1

The widowed Lady Isabel Avenbury has one remaining younger sister to shepherd into an advantageous marriage, and then she will be free. Free to take a lover to fill her lonely nights—the only option left for a woman on the delicate edge of a certain age.

Except when she chaperones her sister to a country house party, she is taken aback by her sudden, undeniable attraction to the host. And deliciously scandalized when she finds a copy of the notorious, much-gossiped-about
Ladies Book of Pleasures
in his library.

When Seth Rowland, Marquis Lyndham, notices his book is missing, his interest is piqued as to which of the potential young brides at his party has absconded with it—and he’s shocked to discover it’s Isabel. Though older than the women he’d planned to court, the powerful beauty exudes a sensuality he cannot ignore.

The book inspires them to begin a desperate, passionate affair. But their time together is running out and they must choose. Follow society’s rules, or take a chance at love.

Warning: Found within are highly scandalous books that trigger passionate desires, surrender in the orangery and possibly true love.

A Matter of Sin

Jess Michaels

Dedication

Thank you to all the readers who have made it possible for me to live my amazing life by supporting my career and buying my books. Thank you to all the writing (and non-writing) friends who have talked me off ledges over the years and celebrated my successes. Thank you to Samhain and to the fabulous Amy Sherwood for helping me make my books the best they can be and getting them out in the world. And thank you to Michael for helping me make my plans, fixing the things that are broken (including me) and being my best friend.

Chapter One

“At the most unexpected times, our lives can change. Most ladies are encouraged to run from it, but why can’t we embrace it?”—
The Ladies Book of Pleasures

“As soon as I’ve seen my sister wedded to the right gentleman, I intend to take a lover.”

As the words came from her lips, Isabel, the Countess of Avenbury, folded her hands in her lap and looked evenly across the table at her two best friends.

“Isabel!” Jacinda Downing burst out as she set her teacup down with a clatter. Her sensitive friend’s eyes were almost impossibly wide and her cheeks pink with outrage and embarrassment.

Isabel arched a brow. Well, there was
one
reaction judged. She turned her gaze toward her other best friend, the Duchess of Jameswood. She found that Grace was simply staring at her, her teacup paused halfway in its journey to her full lips.

“I see you disapprove my choice as much as Jacinda seems to,” Isabel said softly.

Grace lowered her cup with measured slowness. “No, that isn’t it at all, my dear. I simply didn’t expect to hear you, of all people, say such a thing.”

“Really, Isabel!” Jacinda said with a quick nod. “You have always been so responsible. So dependable.”

Isabel smiled. Jacinda spoke words that said she was scandalized, but there was no judgment to her tone, nor in her expression, only worry. And why wouldn’t she be concerned? Jacinda knew the consequences of scandal.

“You make me sound like my late husband’s favorite spaniel,” Isabel mused. “Dear old Rex was quite dependable as well, if I recall.”

Jacinda flushed and swallowed. “Oh, Isabel, I didn’t mean—”

Isabel caught her gentle friend’s hand and held it lightly. “Of course you didn’t. Don’t trouble yourself, I didn’t say it in anger. I can see you’re only concerned about my reputation.”

“Yes. Because I…” Jacinda trailed off, her cheeks brightening with red. “What you are suggesting—”

Grace cut her off with a supportive pat of the hand. “Isn’t anything that hundreds, perhaps even
thousands
of women of our station do every day!”

Jacinda stared, and her blush grew even darker. “That cannot be true!”

Grace shrugged. “I assure you, it is.”

Since Grace was the worldliest of the three of them, Isabel tended to believe her. Besides, Isabel had heard the occasional whispers from other widows—and even married women—about lovers taken in the shadows or met at secret rendezvous points. The entire endeavor sounded so dangerous and exciting.

“With discretion,” Grace continued, “the consequences are almost nonexistent.”

“Especially at my age. I’m too old to be considered as marriage material and I’m…
barren
.” She caught her breath as she said that hated word and watched her friends flinch. “So no one should grouse too much, as long as I have my sister married off,” Isabel said, thinking of Serena with a barely suppressed sigh. “Which is why I intend to wait until she is settled. Once she is under a husband’s protection, my actions will reflect little on her, even if they were to somehow be revealed to Society at large.”

Isabel worried a loose thread on her sleeve. Now that she had declared her shocking intentions out loud, she was beginning to doubt them.

“At least, I
think
that is what I shall do,” she said without looking at her two friends.

Grace got to her feet. “Gracious, Isabel, don’t prevaricate now! This is the best idea you have had in an age. Why
shouldn’t
you take a lover?”

Jacinda shifted, the radiant angel on Isabel’s shoulder to Grace’s elegant devil. “There
are
risks…”

“Posh,” Grace said with a wave of her slender hand. “What is life without some risk? Don’t you want our friend to be happy after all she has endured?”

Isabel felt the heat of blood rush to her cheeks. Yes, her history was a tragic one in many ways, with the death of her mother at a tender age and then her father and stepmother’s losing battle with a fever. Her younger half sisters had been placed in her care when she was little more than a girl herself. Luckily she had already been wed to a kind and understanding man who had taken them all in without hesitation. He had helped her raise the girls without even the barest complaint.

But dear Hartley had been in the ground for almost four years. Long before one of her sisters, Marjorie, was happily matched to the love of her life. She often mused how pleased Hartley would have been at her sister’s choice.

She shook off her memories and looked at her two friends. Both their faces were lined with unmasked concern.

“I have endured little more than a dozen other women in our acquaintance,” Isabel said as she pushed to her feet and smoothed her skirts. “In fact, I think my life has been mightily blessed in a great many ways. I married a good man—”

“Who was nearly two decades your senior,” Grace interrupted. “Were you
ever
allowed to be silly or gay or foolish in your entire life?”

Isabel swallowed. “I suppose that is why the idea of taking a lover holds such appeal,” she admitted after a long pause. “Hartley was a kind and gentle man, but there was no great passion between us. I suppose I didn’t know what I was missing until I saw Marjorie fall head over heels in love with Graham. When she talks about him, I realize what I’ve lacked and I wonder…”

She trailed off, but to her surprise it was Jacinda who finished her thought perfectly. “You wonder if there is any chance left for you for passion and desire.”

Both Grace and Isabel turned their surprised gazes on their quieter, more proper friend. Jacinda blushed beneath their scrutiny, but finally she shrugged.

“I have a woman’s desires and a woman’s heart too, you know, no matter where those things have led me.”

Grace moved toward their friend and sat beside her, patting Jacinda’s shoulder gently. “Indeed you do, my dear. I have never doubted that.”

Isabel sighed. Now that she had told her friends about the desire that lurked in her heart and they supported her, her fears were lessened. It was almost as if she had been given the permission to do this outrageous thing once Serena was taken care of. As long as she didn’t hurt her family and her friends didn’t turn their backs on her, she could manage any other consequence to her actions.

“Speaking of outright scandal,” she said, eager to turn some of the spotlight off herself. Later they would discuss this again, she was certain, but for now she had nothing else to say on the delicate subject.

Grace leaned forward. “Oh, I like the beginning of that sentence.”

Isabel laughed. “Have you heard of this shocking book that is circulating around Society?”

Jacinda clapped her hands. “Oh yes, even I have heard of this! This…what is it called, oh…”

“Are you referring to
The
Ladies Book of Pleasures
?” Grace asked.

“Yes!” Isabel said with a shake of her head. “That is the very one.”

“Of course you would know, Gracie.” Jacinda blushed. “You know
everything
!”

Isabel nodded. That
did
seem to be true. “She probably even knows who wrote it.”

“Even if I did, I would never tell,” Grace said as she took a sip of tea.

“Oh, you are cruel,” Jacinda giggled.

“I don’t suppose either of you own a copy?” Grace asked, ignoring their teasing.

Jacinda shook her head with another deep blush. “Goodness no! I am an unmarried woman. Can you imagine if my aunt found out? I wouldn’t have the nerve to buy such a thing, even if I knew where the find it!”

Isabel also indicated the negative. “I would greatly like to see it, though.”

Indeed, since she had heard of the book, a supposed manual on sinful secrets that had been most shockingly geared toward ladies of good Society, she had longed to get a peek.

“It’s a pity you haven’t,” Grace said as she got to her feet and rang for her servant to clear away the dishes from their tea.

Isabel spun in her seat to look at her friend. “Are you saying you have? Oh, Gracie, do you have a copy here?”

To her surprise, Grace’s cheeks colored a dark, deep pink at the question. The expression was enough to silence Isabel entirely. Normally her friend was bold, daring… In fact, Isabel didn’t think she’d
ever
seen Grace blush. The book must be scandalous indeed to evoke such a reaction from the free-spirited duchess.

“Er, no,” Grace finally answered as the maid stepped in and took away the dishes with a quick curtsey. “I’m afraid I’ve not had the pleasure. Like everyone else in Society, I talk about it but haven’t actually purchased a copy of my own. I only thought it might be helpful to you if you were truly on the lover hunt, Isabel.”

“I’m
not
on the lover hunt,” Isabel said. “Even if I were to be at some point, it won’t be until long after the Marquis of Lyndham’s party next week. My sister might find her match there and
then
I can think of myself.”

Grace’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to be there as well? How wonderful! And what about you, Jacinda? Tell me you were invited.”

Jacinda bent her head. “No, why would I be? I am not an eligible match by any stretch of the imagination. Although the dowager marchioness is one of the people in our circles who is the most kind to me.”

Isabel frowned, her expression a twin of Grace’s. Jacinda’s troubled past had tainted her future, a fact that wasn’t helped by her tendency to hide from the invitations she
did
receive. It took herculean effort on Grace and Isabel’s part to force her to the few parties and balls she attended.

“That is a shame,” Grace said gently. “It promises to be a most entertaining gathering. You know, the marquis is a remarkably beautiful man. For that reason alone, we will enjoy ourselves.”

Isabel shrugged, but it was a false dismissiveness for the sake of her friends. She knew how beautiful Marquis of Lyndham was. She had been
quite
aware of the man over the years, even before she wed. How could one not be, when he seemed to fill every space he inhabited and draw all eyes to him?

But it was nonsense to ponder that silly attraction overly much. Her focus had to be entirely on Serena. Isabel couldn’t yet look around with her own eyes, but the eyes of a dreaded chaperone in search of eligible gentlemen.

The exercise made her feel far more ancient than her actual age.

Isabel cleared her throat. “Lyndham is also a decent man of good fortune who is searching for a wife this Season.”

Jacinda nodded. “Even
I
have heard that. His brother died recently, you know.”

Grace sighed. “And left the new marquis with a great duty to carry when it comes to his waning family name.”

Isabel steepled her fingers in front of her. As much as she hated it, the mercenary guardian in her couldn’t help but be encouraged by those facts.

“Well, perhaps
he
will be a good match for my sister, then. And if he is in such a rush to find a bride, by the time this gathering is finished, I might even have her future settled.”

“And begin planning for your own,” Grace added with a light laugh that made Isabel believe, even just for a moment, that a future was possible for her again.

A future of her own choosing, for the first time in her life.

Seth Rowland, the Marquis of Lyndham, had a theory as to why “they” called Society the marriage mart. It was because when a lady decided any man was the object of her desire, she looked at him like a filet of beef or a side of salted pork at market.

She stared, she judged, she haggled over the price and ultimately, she refused to leave until she had obtained the object of her desire.

Seth had just spent the last hour greeting a gaggle of women who saw him as nothing but a lamb for the slaughter. To make matters worse, his mother, who was helping him host this country party, only encouraged the ladies who sharpened their weapons and waited to strike with such pretty smiles and coy turns of their heads.

“Who else is on your list, Mother?” he asked with a barely suppressed sigh.

Lady Lyndham pulled free the guest list she had tucked into her sleeve earlier in the day. She glanced over the tidy line of names with a nod.

“The Duchess of Jameswood sent word she would not be arriving until tomorrow morning, so it appears we are only missing one family.” His mother looked up. “Lady Avenbury and her sister, Lady Serena.”

Seth nodded in relief. Thank God the tedium had almost reached its conclusion. He was ready for a drink before the next part of this fortnight began. With a smile, he watched a carriage weave its way up the drive.

“Splendid, and it appears as if the final two are on their way to us now.”

His mother nodded as she tucked her list away. “Lady Serena is quite pretty. I’ve heard nothing but good about her comportment in her first Season last year.”

“So this is only her second Season?” Seth asked as he watched the carriage door open before them. “She is how old?”

“Nineteen,” his mother whispered.

Seth shifted with disappointment. He had found that the younger the woman, the less he had in common with her. At nearly thirty, he had no idea what to say to a girl who had practically been in the nursery when he became a man. It was
unseemly
to him, although that was the way of his world. A younger woman meant far more chance for heirs, and that was his purpose in life at present—to carry on his family name. At all costs.

His grim thoughts faded as the footman helped a woman down from the carriage. His breath caught as he looked at her. This was no girl of nineteen. There was nothing frivolous or empty about the way she moved as she smiled toward the servant before watching the second occupant of the carriage exit the vehicle.

This was a
woman
, lush and ripe and sensual in a dark green frock that was fitted perfectly to her curves. She wore a hat that matched, but beneath the edge of it he could see that her locks were dark, deep auburn. When she lifted her face, he caught his breath. He knew her. The name hadn’t rung a bell, perhaps because he never thought of her by her husband’s title, but by the name she had been given.