Mistress by Mistake

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With love to my children, Christopher, Sarah, Jessie, and Abby, who are stupefied yet supportive that their mother writes sex scenes. Thanks to my agent Laura Bradford and my editor Megan Records, who made a dream come true. Extra-special thanks to my critique partners the Vauxhall Vixens, Tiffany Clare, J. K. Coi, and Elyssa Papa, who read every mistake I write and keep me from stumbling on the Dark Walk.

Jane Street, London, 1820

“Honestly, Charlie! You’re ruined anyway! What difference does it make?”

Charlotte felt the room spin every time her sister said the words “honestly, Charlie.” Honesty had very little to do with Deborah Fallon. She was a mistress of prevarication. She was a mistress, period.

Charlotte Fallon looked at her sister, her beautiful, selfish, stubborn younger sister. The sister she was always trying to save in one manner or another, not that she’d been successful. Charlotte wished she had tossed her letter into the fire without opening it. “I should never have come.”

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