Seduction (Hqn) by Joyce Brenda

Author:Joyce, Brenda [Joyce, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-01-31T06:00:00+00:00

JULIANNE WALKED DOWN Newgate, aware that she was late. It was her second day in London. Two small, thin children in rags stepped in front of her, barring her way. Julianne handed them each a coin without breaking stride; they grinned and galloped off. She smiled, even though she shouldn’t be giving away her funds.

She sobered. It was an hour walk, at the very least, from her uncle’s Cavendish Square house to the inn where the convention was being held. She had not considered taking a hansom—she would not waste the money. But last night on her way home, as tired as she had been, she had been outrageously tempted to veer away from Marylebone and into Mayfair.

She had been so tempted to see where he lived. What on earth was wrong with her?

She had actually wondered what would happen if their paths did cross.

But their paths were not going to cross. She wasn’t going to wander into Mayfair, even if a part of her wanted to, and he would not happen upon Cavendish Square or Newgate. In fact, she felt certain that he had never set foot in London’s downtrodden and destitute East End.

Newgate was as different from Mayfair as the night from day. The streets were narrow and dirty and littered with refuse; shabby shops lined them, offering penny wares, all crowding in on one another. Above them were small flats, with laundry hanging out of the windows like pennants, crisscrossing the street below. Cobblers, carpenters, prostitutes and laundresses had their shingles set out. Door stoops were filled with the homeless and the hungry, and beggars abounded.

No one was starving uptown, yet in the East End, destitution was everywhere. It enraged Julianne, and made her cherish her cause. And she was outraged when she glimpsed gentlemen on their fine Thoroughbreds or in their lacquer carriages, cruising the slums while trying to decide which prostitute met their fancy. How disgusted the sight made her!

If Paget had ever bothered to traverse the slums of London, he would surely understand why she supported the political and social changes in France that she did, and why she yearned for justice and equality in Great Britain. He might not change his Tory views, but surely he would yearn for some degree of social justice, too.

She didn’t even know what his real views were. She almost wished she’d had the foresight to ask him why he’d thought it necessary to go to France and spy on the French republicans.

The inn was now in sight. She was grim. She had been too hurt and angry to even think of demanding some basic truths from him before he’d left Cornwall. She had spent weeks with a man, and she didn’t know anything about him. Lucas had not filled in any of the blanks. She decided that, if there was one thing she wished to know, it was how he had been wounded. He had claimed to have been wounded while fighting against the La Vendée royalists.

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