Passion for Him

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To Kate Duffy, for her forbearance and guidance. When I needed help, she was there for me. I couldn’t have finished this book without her.

To Nadine Dupont, for her assistance with the French words used in this book. Any errors are mine alone.

To the fabulous gals on my wicked chat loop, for their aid and friendship.

To Patrice Michelle, Janet Miller, and Mardi Ballou, for their commiseration.

I’m grateful to you all. Thank you so much!

London, 1780

The man in the white mask was following her.

Amelia Benbridge was uncertain of how long he had been moving surreptitiously behind her, but he most definitely was.

She strolled carefully around the perimeter of the Langston ballroom, her senses attuned to his movements, her head turning with feigned interest in her surroundings so that she might study him further.

Every covert glance took her breath away.

In such a crush of people, another woman most likely would not have noted the avid interest. It was far too easy to be overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells of a masquerade. The dazzling array of vibrant fabrics and frothy lace…the multitude of voices attempting to be heard over an industrious orchestra…the mingling scents of various perfumes and burnt wax from the massive chandeliers…

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