Ruined by the Ton

Ruined by the Ton Misfits of the TonBook Two byEmily Royal © Copyright 2022 by Emily Royal Text by Emily Royal Cover by Dar Albert Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc. P.O. Box 23 Moreno Valley, CA 92556 [email protected] Produced in the United States of America First Edition December 2022 Kindle Edition Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. License Notes: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. 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CEO, Dragonblade Publishing Additional Dragonblade books by Author Emily Royal Misfits of the Ton Tomboy of the Ton, Book 1 Ruined by the Ton, Book 2 Headstrong Harts What the Hart Wants, Book 1 Queen of my Hart, Book 2 Hidden Hart, Book 3 The Prizefighter’s Hart, Book 4 All I Want for Christmas is My Hart, Novella Haunted Hart, Novella London Libertines Henry’s Bride, Book 1 Hawthorne’s Wife, Book 2 Roderick’s Widow, Book 3 A Libertine’s Christmas Miracle, Novella The Lyon’s Den Series A Lyon’s Pride Lyon of the Highlands Dedication for Jasmine Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Publisher’s Note Additional Dragonblade books by Author Emily Royal Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Epilogue Acknowledgements About the Author Prologue Hampshire, July 1817 Beatrice sat upright, her heart thumping against her chest. A thin sliver of light marked the bottom of the door to her bedchamber, and the dull glow of embers pulsed in the fireplace. What had woken her? One of the guests, perhaps? Or maybe the footman she’d set to guard her chamber from marauding guests, such as James de Bruin, who’d been over-attentive of late. Handsome he might be, but she had resolved that no man would come near her again, unless he wanted to lose his manhood at the blade of her knife. She waited, her eyes growing accustomed to the darkness. But the only sound was her breathing. She relaxed back into the bed. Why did she have to be so skittish? Crash! She froze, her gut twisting in fear. The noise hadn’t come from outside. It had come from the chamber next to hers. The chamber that had been locked for the past two years. She reached under the pillow, fumbling in the dark until her fingers met the familiar, solid shape. Then she heard the sound of wood scraping against wood, as if someone was rifling through a chest of drawers, followed by footsteps. Someone was inside the adjoining chamber. She drew the pistol from under her pillow and aimed it toward the adjoining door. “Who’s there!” she cried. “Come out, you coward, and show yourself!” Her eyes now adjusted to the darkness, she was able to pick out the shape of the door handle; the light from the embers of the fire highlighted the pattern etched into the brass. Then the handle moved. She tightened her grip on the pistol, her heart hammering, willing her body to stop shaking. The handle dipped, and, with a creak, the door swung inward to reveal a tall, dark shape in the doorway. Beatrice swallowed her fear. “Wh-who’s there?” The intruder approached the bed. He seemed to increase in size as he moved, his powerful frame dominating the bedchamber, and her stomach cramped in terror. “Stop!” she cried. “Or I’ll shoot!” He took another step forward. Beatrice cocked the pistol with her thumb, and the intruder stopped at the loud click. “That’s right,” she said, curling her finger around the trigger. “I’m armed, and won’t hesitate to shoot you. Stay where you are!” He remained still, but did not speak. “I demand you tell me who you are!” she cried. “You’ve no right to enter a lady’s chamber uninvited.” He moved closer, and she caught a flash of cold silver eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, my dear,” a voice said—a deep male voice… …a very familiar voice. “I have every right to enter your chamber, invited or not.” “No…” she whispered. “Oh yes, my dear.” Standing in her bedchamber was her husband. The man who, two years ago, had