Candice Hern - The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance

Desperate Measures by Candice Hern. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Upon a Midnight Clear by Anna Campbell. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Dashing Miss Langley by Amanda Grange. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Cynders and Ashe by Elizabeth Boyle. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

His Wicked Revenge by Vanessa Kelly. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Lady Invisible by Patricia Rice. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Piano Tutor by Anthea Lawson. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Stolen by Emma Wildes. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Her Gentleman Thief by Robyn DeHart. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Weatherlys Ball by Christie Kelley. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Panchamaabhuta by Leah Ball. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Angelique by Margo Maguire. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Like None Other by Caroline Linden. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Catch of the Season by Shirley Kennedy. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

French Intuition by Delilah Marvelle. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

A Suitable Gentleman by Sara Bennett. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Gretna Green by Sharon Page. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Little Miss Independent by Julia Templeton. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

The Devils Bargain by Deborah Raleigh. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Kindred Souls by Barbara Metzger. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Remember by Michle Ann Young. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Moonlight by Carolyn Jewel. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

An Invitation to Scandal by Lorraine Heath. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

Sweet, sexy, heartbreaking and erotic, confined by corsets (all that complicated lacing be damned!) or secreted away behind closed doors, love in Regency England was a murky business. It was hardly recognizable laced into ballgowns, peering out coquettishly from behind ivory-handled fans, whispering inappropriately under the noses of chaperones and being seduced into compromising positions. It was an emotion dealt out cruelly by a voracious and debauched high society on the one hand, and a great hypocrisy of social graces and propriety on the other. With innocence forever in the middle, trampled, torn and abused as usual.

There were some things love and lovers should not do. But rules were made to be broken and all it took was a little ingenuity. When denial and frustration come to a boiling point, sparks fly bright and hot. Matches are made in haste to settle the possibility of scandal, marriages are bargaining chips to elevate stations and cancel debts where theres a will, theres a way. And mothers! Those infernal, social climbing, unrelenting mothers! The bane of every debutante during her seasons out.

Under these circumstances, sometimes love needs a little harmless dishonesty, a liberal use of ruses, dupes and tricks, to flourish. For all those secrets and lies needed to maintain the order of the day, sometimes it takes a little underhandedness to get to the heart of the matter. Under the threat of Regency villainy, sometimes thats what it takes for young lovers to come together, or older lovers to find their hearts again.

The gentlemen seem to be missing their appointments with their barbers left, right and centre, and the slightly long and unfashionable look attracts the ladies in droves. It is the carelessness, perhaps, among the almost-feminine care lavished by some of the men of the age, that appeals, I imagine, and promises other lapses in convention like clandestine kisses, a quick grope in the sitting room, or maybe even some hot sex?

Take a look at all the well-dressed skeletons in the Regency closet. Because for all the babies out of wedlock, the midnight elopements to Gretna Green, the young women suffering marriages to old men in penance for a moment of brief happiness on a chaise longue in an empty retiring room this jaded society has seen and done it all. Any discretion is just one more thing to hide away, to deny, to refute or to forget. But some sensations can be harder to forget than others.

She was going to commit murder. If that scoundrel Philip Hartwell did not show up soon, Lydia Bettridge was going to track him down and rip his heart out. After all, this whole scheme was his idea. If he hadnt suggested it in the first place, and if he and her brother Daniel had not gleefully concocted the plan, she would not now be waiting on pins and needles to learn whether or not it would work.

Or perhaps all that gleefulness had been at her expense. Had they been making a game of her, playing on her disappointment, poking fun at her unrequited affections?

By God, she would rip out both their hearts. With a rusty blade.

Lydia scanned the ballroom again, maintaining as casual an air as possible as she sought out Philips bright red hair among the crowd milling about in groups, waiting for the first set to begin. She was just about to stomp her foot in frustration when she saw him. Not Philip, but him. Dear heaven, it was Geoffrey Danforth, the secret object of her scheme, and he was at that very moment making his way across the room directly towards her.

Her belly seized up in a knot of panic. What was she to do now? And where the devil was Philip?

Here comes Danforth, my dear, her mother said in hushed tones. And he is smiling at you and looking exceedingly handsome in that gold waistcoat. The colour sets off his hair nicely, dont you think? I hope you will not reject him like all the others. I suspect poor Philip must be delayed. You would certainly be forgiven if you did not wait for him any longer.

Lydia had claimed a prior commitment for the opening set when asked to dance by three other perfectly suitable gentlemen, causing her mother to cluck and twitter with vexation. She was not pleased that Lydia had promised to be led out for one of the most important dances of the evening by her brothers best friend, who had no marital intentions towards Lydia or anyone else, and for whom Lydia had no more than a sisterly affection. Such a waste, her mother had said more than once.

And here came Geoffrey Danforth, with his flashing blue eyes and a smile to make a girl weak in the knees. Oh dear.

He stood before them and sketched an elegant bow. Mrs Bettridge. Miss Lydia. You are both looking very fine this evening. His eyes swept over Lydia, hopefully admiring her new dress, which was cut a bit more daringly in the bodice than her usual attire. It had been a part of the plan, of course, to look as dashing as possible.