Rebecca Ashley

She'd married in haste, repented at leisure, and now she was widowed withal. Beautiful auburn-haired Alamina Wilson could have set the ton on its ear, but she was done with the business of love--until dashing Lord Arrelly took her life in his hands, determined to make her his own. As the only heir to her late husband's estate, the brash marquis controlled her purse strings--and was determined to conquer her heart. How could she say no when it was clear she must marry for money? How could she say yes to this unspeakable rake?

SHE HAD NOT MATURED TO SEVEN-AND-TWENTY WITHOUT LEARNING THAT ROMANCE WAS A FLEETING THING.... If only she had not developed a tendre for William Haversly--her fierce enemy since the duel in which he shot her brother. To make matters worse, Fiona learned that her sister had developed an attachment to William's younger brother! Short of leaving London, there was little chance of escaping the presence of the man she loathed--a feeling all the more heightened because there was so little about his outward appearance with which to find fault. So intent was she upon separating the two young people, Fiona scarcely noticed the flutter of her heart at William's nearness--or the crumbling of her own stubborn pride....

IT WAS LAND SHE PRIZED MOST DEARLY... ONLY TO FIND THAT LOVE MADE THE GRASS GROW GREENER. Really, it was quite shocking. Wexham Farm was a discredit to the countryside and ruined the effect of Cynthia Thornbury's carefully tended land next door. It was, in short, too wild and uncivilized, as was her insufferably stubborn new neighbor, Giles Blenhurst. Drat the man! He seemed amused by her offer to purchase. Indeed, he was more than amused by this headstrong beauty hiding behind the prim and proper attire of a spinster. He was intrigued! Truth to tell, Cynthia feared she'd formed a tendre for her dashing neighbor. But her heart was prisoner of her past. Did his love hold the key?

Her father was a roguish vagabond. She had been educated by a highborn strumpet, and for as long as she could remember, she had lived with old Mrs. Worthing, the housekeeper of Meadowacres. Her future lay in the servants' hall, until the day Lord Linton arrived. Handsome, arrogant, he took her for a rustic innocent. First he kissed her, then he appointed himself her stern guardian and swept her off to London. Did he mean to make her a lady? She would take to the highroad after her father before she would be any gentleman's toy. Did he mean to find her a husband? She had a mind of her own--and she had already met her match!

HE PITIED THE POOR SOD WHO LOST HIS HEART TO THIS AUDACIOUS MISS.... Though fate had made them co-inheritors of a mill in Manchester, Arabella Fairingdale's plea for funds to improve the appalling working conditions met with Lord Ridgeton's deaf ears. Thus Arabella had one goal: to make Lord Ridgeton a man of great social conscience. It would not be an easy task. True, he was a war hero and devilishly handsome, but he was haunted by the ravages of the battlefield, having no care for chits with stormy eyes and outrageous demands. Headstrong and untamed, she might be. But his lordship would soon learn never to underestimate a miss with a purpose--especially in matters of the heart....

Ever the spitfire, never the wife. Just as well, too, for Miss Julia Weston , in all her 24 years, had never found a man she wanted to spend 10 minutes with, let alone a lifetime. So what in the name of heaven was she doing at Grayhall, Lord Brandon's country estate, with a gaggle of marriagte-minded debutantes vying for the attentions of the arrogant, insufferable Lord Brandon himself? Here indeed was a man she couldn't tolerate for two seconds! Why did he distrub her so? Did her anger conceal a passion for this man she couldn't abide?

HOW COULD SHE WED AN ENGLISHMAN? SHE KNEW LITTLE OF THE ENGLISH AND EVEN LESS OF MEN! As much as Priscilla Springton longed to remain in India, her parents insisted on a proper English marriage. They'd even picked the groom! Priscilla, however, wanted no man, least of all a somber Englishman who didn't know a Brahmin from a Bengal tiger. Lord Knole, on the other hand, had no intention of marrying the daughter of a nabob with no entree into society. But he did owe Springton. Perhaps he could teach the chit some proper accomplishments to land a gentleman who was not so particular. Resigned to her fate. Priscilla was quite aghast to discover her tendre for Lord Knole. Perhaps England would not be so dreary after all!

WITH HER FLAMING HAIR, FLASHING EYES, AND OUTSPOKEN WAYS, SHE WAS A PRIME EXAMPLE OF THOSE CONFOUNDING IRISH. Molly Mill's plan to return to her native Ireland did not include a handsome stranger appearing at her door, announcing that the heirloom furniture she'd purchased for her uncle had been stolen from the aforementioned stranger's ancestral home. Furthermore, every stock of it would have to be returned before the Prince Regent's visit! She wondered briefly what Lord Lindworth might look like with his hair unkempt from a wild horse ride over the Irish countryside, but she gave up, he seemed so stiff, so very English. Besides, she'd bought the furniture and intended to keep it. Her uncle, at least, had more sense and agreed to return everything. But Lindworth never dreamed the old coot would invite himself to the Lindworth estate, thereby creating a house party that included the intractable Miss Mills and a love triangle as stormy as the Irish sea....

She brought herself up short. All this daydreaming was pointless. She, Daphne Brown, the virtually penniless daughter of a later Devonshire Squire, had come to London to seek employment, not hight society. Lord Stranham would no more fall in love with her than he would fly. And yet there wasa the evening at Almacks. And there were the invitations to Lady Drayton's ball. But even if such a top-lofty gentleman did conceive a tendre, he was not likely to offer more than carte blanche...

WED AND WIDOWED BY A WASTREL. SHE WAS ALL ALONE IN THE WORLD. The last person Katie Marshall expected to meet at Belham Manor was Lord Wellesy, the man she had rejected to marry her rakehell husband. Bitter yet still strangely attracted to Katie, Wellesy so far forgot himself as to offer Katie his 'protection' as his mistress - and a humiliated Katie escaped him once again. But he would have her, and Katie's ensuing problems made Wellesy's offer most tempting. If only she didn't want his love, finally and forever...

DIGGING, AMONG THE BURIED RUINS SHE FOUND THE MOST PRICELESS TREASURE OF ALL... Although some considered her spinster life dull. Elinor Wentworth was quite comfortable designing ladies fashions, attending a London rout or two, and listening to the latest on-dits. Still, she couldn't refuse a desperate request fro, her dear friend Victoria to join her in the country. At the family estate. Elinor discovered quite a few things about the upper-class company who had been invited by Victoria's brother. Despite their airs and manners, some were not all they pretended to be. A case in point was handsome Sir Nicolas, whose flattering attentions Elinor thought she could learn to enjoy -- until she saw him in the constant company of his ex-fiancee. Elinor saw enough to believe her eyes, but she might be surprised to discover how deceiving appearances could be...

When Caroline Norton sped to Dorset to comfort her recently widowed niece, Melissa, she never imagined she'd encounter the devil incarnate in Melissa's own brother-in-law. The arrogant earl of Devlon had torn himself away from the ton and come to Hollowsby to reclaim his family home at the expense of the poor, helpless young widow whom he considered a fortune hunter. What began as a mission of mercy had abruptly become a declaration of war! Suddenly Caroline was fighting for her honor and her life against an irresistible adversary...and her implacable heart!

HAD HER HUSBAND LED A SECRET LIFE FULL OF DANGER AND SPIES...? Though a widow of only four months, Lady Cornelia Devenish vowed to carry on the grand tradition of her husband's magnificent estate. But the sudden appearance of Edwin Sorrels, and his strange inquiries about her husband, left Cornelia disillusioned. Had she really known the man she'd married? Sad and heartbroken, a Season in London seemed the best medicine. But imagine her shock when she was introduced to Lord Taveston, only to discover the fop was no stranger! Pledged to keep his secret, Cornelia knew she must make a second pledge to herself: not to spend too much time thinking about the mysterious--perhaps even dangerous--gentleman who might topple her calm widow's life completely.