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Authors: Jo Beverley

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Forbidden

The Company of Rogues

Book Four

 

by

 

Jo Beverley

New York Times & USA Today

Bestselling Author

 

 

 

 

 

FORBIDDEN

Reviews & Accolades

 

"Ms. Beverley breaks just about every rule in the book and makes us beg for more in this enthralling love story."

~Romantic Times

"FORBIDDEN is a delight to read. Any woman would be able to understand Serena's horror at the thought of another marriage like her first, and her inability to trust

Francis in the beginning."

~Romance Reviews Today

"Nobody does Regency better than Jo Beverley, and this latest tale adds to the argument that she may just be the best."

~Rendezvous

 

 

 

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ISBN: 978-1-61417-488-2

 

 

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Please Note

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Jo Beverley. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

 

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Chapter 1

 

Three people sat at breakfast in the chill and dusty dining room of Grove House in Sussex. The burly Allbright brothers noisily washed down rare beef with porter. Their sister, Serena Riverton, huddled in a heavy shawl nibbling toast and drinking tea whilst reading a book of poetry.

Will Allbright stared blankly into space as he chewed and slurped, but his older brother, Tom, muttered as he went through the day's post.

"Duns, duns, duns..." He tossed three letters toward the smokey fire. "Ah, this is more like it." He tore open a letter and read it greedily. "At last! Hey, Serry, Samuel Seale wants to marry you."

His sister looked up, revealing a remarkably beautiful face. "What?" Then she went pale and rose, pushing back from the table. "Oh no, Tom. I won't. I
won't
marry again!"

"No?" the man asked, filling his mouth with food again. "What're you going to do, then, Sister? Ply the streets?"

Serena Riverton shook her head desperately, shocked almost to witlessness by this turn of events. "I can live on the money Matthew left me."

Her younger brother Will, who was rather simple, turned to look at her. "That's already gone, Serry." He seemed surprised she didn't know, and almost regretful. Serena knew better. In all their selfish lives, her two brothers had never regretted a wrong unless it got them into trouble.

In looks they were both John Bull—big, solid, ruddy-faced men in simple country clothes. They had none of John Bull's solid worth, however.

As she stood there numbly, Will shoved a final hunk of bread into his mouth and rose from the table to warm himself in front of the hearth. Having effectively blocked the sparse heat of the fire, he pulled out a guinea and began to toss it.

Serena dazedly watched that glittering coin and tried to find a footing in all of this. "Gone?" she echoed. "How can my money be gone? My husband is only three months dead. Where can it have gone?"

But even as she spoke, she knew. Gone where all the money in this dilapidated house went. To the tables, on a roll of the dice, on the speed of a horse, on the speed—for heaven's sake—of a cockroach!

She tore her eyes from Will's coin to glare at Tom. "That's blatant thievery!"

He forked up another lump of red beef. "Going to put the Runners onto me, Serry? 'Twouldn't do you a maggot of good. There's no getting blood from stones."

Stones, thought Serena wildly. That's what they were. As heartless as stones, and as stupid.

"You couldn't have lived on it, anyway," said Will.
Flick, spin, catch. Flick, spin, catch...
"Three thousand? Loose change, that's what three thousand is."

Tom grunted his agreement. "Who'd have thought Riverton'd go through his fortune like that? We expected you to be a rich widow, Serry, or we'd never have been so keen to get you home again. Three thousand'd hardly keep you in gowns." His small eyes roamed over her very expensive russet cloth dress.

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