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A spicy Regency Romeo and Juliet–inspired story with a twist! 
To escape scandal… 
She must elope with the enemy! 

Anna Edgerton and Viscount Willburgh were raised as sworn enemies. But when they’re caught in a seemingly compromising position at a Vauxhall masquerade, she has no choice but to accept his dutiful offer of marriage to save herself from ruin! 
When they're in the close confines of the coach to Gretna Green, their hostility gives way to a forbidden passion Will never imagined. But their newlywed bliss is short-lived once they return to society… Confronted by their feuding families, can they forge a love strong enough to heal the rifts threatening to tear them apart?

From Harlequin Historical: Your romantic escape to the past.

 

Coming in 2025

Vauxhall Garden, Summer 1817

The lamps in the trees that flanked the walk grew fewer in number, as did the promenaders, couples mostly, probably looking for a secluded nook for a private tryst. A wave of envy jolted Will. He’d never had much time for dalliances and, unlike his friends, had eventually concluded that amorous affairs of the temporary kind merely left him empty.

He ought to turn back. Find a boat to take him across the river. Avoid the rain.

He was about to do that very thing when he suddenly had the Walk to himself. Until some distance ahead of him a woman jumped from the trees. A man followed and seized her from behind. The woman cried out and struggled to get free, but the man covered her mouth and pulled her back into the darkness of the wood. Vauxhall was not all merriment; danger also lurked there.

Will sprang into action, entering the woods where he saw the man and woman disappear. The man was dragging her into a shelter, a private supper room designed for assignations.

Will charged the man, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck, choking him. The man, dressed in a domino and mask like himself, released his prisoner. She fell to the ground. A fist to the man’s face and a kick to his groin sent the fellow fleeing for his life. Will turned to extend his hand to help the woman to her feet.

‘Are you injured?’ he asked.

‘Shaken a bit, is all.’ She looked down at herself and gasped. ‘Oh, dear!’ The bodice of her dress was torn, revealing her shift and stays. Her hands flew to her chest.

‘Come into the shelter,’ Will said. ‘We can put you back to rights.’

A lamp lit the shelter enough for Will to see she wore a red hooded cape and a plain blue cotton dress covered by a pinafore. Or it had once been covered by a pinafore. The pinafore and dress were torn at one shoulder and now were held in place by the woman’s hand. Her eyes were a startling light brown, lighter than her hair, a warm brown shot through with gold where the lamplight caught it. She wore it down, as if she were a girl, not a woman. How old was she? Still masked she could be anything. A maid, a shopgirl, or even a harlot—although a harlot typically would not be struggling to free herself.

The shelter held a chaise-longue and a table upon which sat the lamp and a bottle of wine with two glasses, apparently arranged ahead of time.

The woman—girl?—turned away. ‘I—I am remiss in not thanking you right away, sir. I cannot imagine what I would have done had you not assisted me.’

Will could well imagine what the man had planned for her.

But he focused on the practical. ‘Do you have pins with you? To pin up your dress?’

‘I do.’ Still with her back to him she let go of the torn dress and lifted her skirt slightly to retrieve pins concealed in her petticoat. She set to pinning the bodice in place. ‘If only I could see…’

‘Turn this way,’ Will said. ‘I’ll help you.’

She’d managed to cover herself. Will needed only to straighten the fabric to make it appear as if it had been stitched. He stood close to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body and the scent of her—lavender and mint and sunny summer days. Of one thing he was certain—she was a woman, not a young girl. He had not been so close to a woman in a long time, certainly not in such an intimate situation.

‘How do you know how to pin a dress?’ Her words were breathless.

His breath accelerated, heating up the inside of his mask.

‘I have a younger sister.’

The confounded mask. It made it difficult to breathe and even to see.

With an annoyed grunt, he pulled it off.

The woman jumped back. ‘You!’

Will was puzzled. ‘You know me?’

Her voice trembled. ‘Oh, yes. I know you, Lord Willburgh.’ She removed her own mask.

‘The devil…’ Will glared at her. No. Not the devil. ‘A Dorman.’ The name was poison on his lips. ‘The Dorman whose father killed my father.’

She bristled. ‘Your father killed my father! It was your father who challenged my father to a duel!’

He countered. ‘It was your father who seduced my mother!’

She lifted a brow. ‘Was it?’

This animosity had not begun with Will’s father’s death. The Dormans had feuded with the Willburghs for generations, purportedly over ownership of disputed land. It had really started three generations ago, when Will’s great-great-grandfather and that generation’s Lord Dorman fought over a woman, the woman who became Will’s great-great-grandmother. After that event the discord over the disputed land heated to a fever pitch. The fire was further fuelled by more romantic rivalry—Will’s great-grandfather’s affair with that generation’s Lady Dorman, and most tragically for Will, the seduction of Will’s mother by the current Baron Dorman’s ne’er-do-well brother, who knew precisely what he was about. Will’s father challenged that younger Dorman to the ill-fated duel.[DP1] 

They killed each other in that duel, a duel that changed everything for Will. At seventeen, he suddenly inherited a title, all its responsibility, and all the scandal that engulfed the family as a result. From then on—ten years now—Will’s carefree life as a young man had ceased. Life became nothing more than Duty. Duty. Duty.

Staring at this Dorman woman brought it all back. All his grief. All his anger.

Her eyes lit with fear and she backed farther away.

He did not usually allow that part of him to show. ‘Do not worry. I’m not going to kill you.’

Her voice turned low. ‘What are you going to do?’

Will took a deep breath and slowly released it. ‘I am going to finish pinning your dress and escort you back to wherever you should be.’