Page 1

Chapter 1

Autumn 1819

This can’t be happening.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, to make certain he was not making it up.

No.

She was truly here.

Adam Lewis watched helplessly as an innocent young lady—a lady he knew, a lady he’d danced with only a few weeks ago, Miss Beatrice Fowley—walked through the doors of the Hades’ Hell. Alone!

First of all, this wasn’t a place for a proper young lady to be. Ever! But tonight was the most scandalous and depraved masquerade of the year. And if she was going to be there—which she shouldn’t—the least she could do was bring an adequate escort. Or even just a chaperone!

Adam pointedly turned away. It wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem.

Everything had finally sorted itself out in the Lewis household.

Adam’s sisters were finally married, even his reprobate of a brother, Viscount Gage, had found his love, and their youngest brother, Alan, was back in London from the Continent.

And for the first time in a long time, Adam finally belonged to himself.

Hence, he was here, at the most scandalous masquerade ball of the year, in Hades’ Hell, looking forward to enjoying himself and having a good time with his friends.

He wasn’t going to let some brazen, injudicious young chit ruin it for him. She wasn’t his responsibility.

She was his brother’s.

Gage was the one who’d spurned her and then settled her in a townhouse in London—as if that wasn’t going to generate a slew of rumors. But no, the cocky viscount didn’t care. He’d married a scandalous actress, after all. What was one more scandal?

But something within Adam prompted him to look back at the lady in question. Either from misguided loyalty to his brother or perhaps being raised a gentleman, he couldn’t leave a lady in peril. And she was definitely in peril.

He watched as she slowly but carefully made her way across the hall, her golden-brown hair glittering in the candlelight, turning the heads of every gentleman she passed by.

And now she is taking off her mask.

Adam’s mouth gaped open. What is wrong with her?

Does she not realize just where she is? And the danger to her reputation just being here might bring?

Not just to her reputation. To her.

She squeezed herself past two men, apologetically smiling at them, but something prompted her to stop in her tracks. She tried to lurch forward but was stopped every time. Adam squinted, trying to figure out what was causing her odd behavior. She turned back to the gentlemen she had just passed, said something, and tugged on her skirt. That’s when Adam noticed what was wrong. One of the men had caught her gown and wasn’t letting go.

Miss Fowley pushed at the man’s chest—the man who now held her by the waist—her mask in hand, trying to rid herself of the unwanted attention.

Foolish, foolish chit! This kind of behavior was exactly what she should have thought about before stepping foot in a depraved place like this. Did she not know that drunk and lustful men were here in abundance? Especially tonight.

Adam pushed his way through the thick of the crowd. His agitation only grew with every step. Were the men too drunk to recognize a gentle lady? Even if she weren’t a lady, she clearly didn’t want their attention. She was pushing them away, and yet they still refused to let her go.

What kind of men needed to use force to keep women close?

Drunk. Stupid. Disrespectful.

His blood was boiling, and he had to clench his fists by his sides so he wouldn’t lash out at the people in his way.

Just as he reached Miss Fowley, she yanked her skirt from the man’s hand and stumbled back, right into Adam’s arms.