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Chapter One

April 1818

Haland

Belgrave Manor

The small, dark brown leather book appeared quite innocuous until one dared to fold back the worn cover and skies Oliver Si the same entry for the past several ant, flowing script Absolutely nothing at all indicated the lascivious and shockingly arousing content of what had revealed itself to be a diary of the most scandalous sort

Dearest Diary,

My husband, God rest his soul, said my desires are abhorrent and unladylike and had admonished me most severely I tried so hard to be proper, but it see, I stood in the eastern secret passage in Belgrave s and licked her glistening slit Lady W screarabbed his head, and rocked onto his face She appeared so wild and so wonderfully free

To ly wet I ran as quietly as possible through the hidden passage tomyself under the covers God help ers deep into my slippery channel and—

Oliver closed the slih his lips He had been reading the diary for the last hour, unable to stop, though he was consciously aware these were the private thoughts of someone ould never have shared such private and wanton feelings with him Or anyone else, for that matter

These were the deepest secrets of a lady attending hishouse party The party had, in truth, been at his request, so that he could view a potential bride in an intie marts of the season If Oliver recalled accurately, there were only fifty guests in attendance, and at least thirty were of the fairer sex Noas consumed with one question: as the author?

The idea that a lady of the ton, even if she was a , had written such thoughts was positively indecent, and—since he was being honest—vastly intriguing and titillating to his jaded tastes

With a rough scoff, he dropped the diary onto the stone bench on which he reposed He would leave it where he’d found it, and possibly the oould retrace her steps and recover it soon Clearly, it had not been left to the eleht rain had fallen earlier in the …and sinful

Cursing hirabbed it and randoe

Dearest Diary,

Sir Elliot offered for h he paid calls upon me a few times, the baronet never expressed a romantic attach a ain be the mistress of my own home, and I would have the amiable companionship of Sir Elliot, without the expectation to produce issue, since he has his heir, a spare, and the e and ine running ue over his chest and down to his manhood as I had attempted with dear Robert Perhaps Sir Elliot would be siusted with my wantonness and—