Beguiling the Beauty

PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF
SHERRY THOMAS

“Superb … Will win readers over with its elegant writing, exceptional characterization … and exquisitely romantic love story.”

—
Chicago Tribune

“Deft plotting and sparkling characters mark this superior debut historical … Thomas propels the plot forward with revealing repartee and gives the leads real nuance…. The results are steamy and smart.”

—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

“Thomas tantalizes readers as she skillfully peels away the layers of Cam and Gigi’s relationship in an enchanting, thought-provoking story of love lost and ultimately reclaimed. Lively banter, electric sexual tension, and an unusual premise make this stunning debut all the more refreshing.”

—
Library Journal
(starred review)

“Thomas’s lyrical writing is really the star of the show. There are writers who can tell a great story, and writers who can tell a great story with beauty and artistry. Thomas is in the latter category, and her writing is, quite simply, a cut above.”

—
All About Romance

“We readers of romance go through a lot of books. A few are wallbangers, more are okay but not great, even more are enjoyable, and some are more than that. When I’m reading a book that falls into that fourth and smallest category, I find myself saying, ‘OMG, I can’t believe how good this is’ with one part of my brain, while the rest of it is saying, ‘Shut up and keep reading.’ … Needless to say, this is an A read for me.”

—
Dear Author

“[Sherry Thomas] dazzles with her intelligent, compelling story and memorable characters. This well-crafted romance places her among the very finest of the next generation of authors.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(4½ stars, Top Pick)

“Ravishingly sinful, intelligent, and addictive. An amazing debut.”

—Eloisa James,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Enchanting … An extraordinary, unputdownable love story.”

—Jane Feather,
New York Times
bestselling author

“A love story of remarkable depth … Entrancing from start to finish.”

—Mary Balogh,
New York Times
bestselling author

SHERRY THOMAS

BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

BEGUILING THE BEAUTY

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / May 2012

Copyright © 2012 by Sherry Thomas.

Excerpt from
Ravishing the Heiress
by Sherry Thomas copyright © 2012 by Sherry Thomas.

Cover art by Gregg Gulbronson.

Cover design by George Long.

Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 978-1-101-58505-4

BERKLEY SENSATION
^®

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

ALWAYS LEARNING

PEARSON

For my agent, Kristin Nelson,
who makes everything possible

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Wendy McCurdy, for her exceptional instincts and abundant patience.

Kristin Nelson, for an invaluable last-minute consultation. And for her yummy crème brûlée.

Kris Alice Hohls, for correcting all the German phrases in the manuscript—and for being wonderful.

Maili Ryan, for being the bottomless fount of knowledge she is and for her help in eradicating Americanisms from my writing. Responsibility for those that remain is solely mine for not asking her.

Joanna Chambers, for stepping in to answer questions for Maili.

Judith Ivory, whose novel
Beast
inspired this novel.

Janine, for always being there, ready to help.

Ivy Adams, for being endlessly entertaining.

Tiffany Yates Martin of Fox Print Editorial, who was accidentally left out of the acknowledgment page of
His at Night
.

Google Books, the best friend I’ve ever had on the research front. How did I ever live without you? Google Maps, my other indispensable buddy. Together you make every day a fun threesome.

My readers, for their interest and support during my gap year from the shelves.

My truly wonderful family.

Deadlines being what they are, acknowledgments are always written when I’m bleary-eyed and underslept, my heart full of gratitude but my three remaining brain cells flopping about uselessly. If I’ve forgotten anyone, it is not from a lack of appreciation, but only a temporary absence of gray matter.

As always, if you are reading this, thank you. Thank you for everything.

I
t happened one sunlit day in the summer of 1886.

Until then, Christian de Montfort, the young Duke of Lexington, had led a charmed life.

His passion was the natural world. As a child, he was never happier than when he could watch hatchling birds peck through their delicate eggshells, or spend hours observing the turtles and the water striders that populated the family trout stream. He kept caterpillars in terrariums to discover the outcomes of their metamorphoses—brilliant butterflies or humble moths, both thrilling him equally. Come summer, when he was taken to the seashore, he immersed himself in the tide pools and understood instinctively that he was witnessing a fierce struggle for survival, without losing his sense of wonder at the beauty and intricacy of life.

After he learned to ride, he disappeared regularly into
the countryside surrounding his imposing home. Algernon House, the Lexington seat, occupied a corner of the Peak District. Upon the faces of its chert and limestone escarpments, Christian, a groom in tow, hunted for fossils of gastropods and mollusks.

He did run into opposition from time to time. His father, for one, did not approve of his scientific interests. But Christian was born with an innate assurance that took most men decades to develop, if at all. When the old duke thundered over his inelegant use of time, Christian coolly demanded whether he ought to practice his father’s favorite occupation at the same age: chasing maids around the manor.

As if such nerve and aplomb weren’t enough, he was also tall, well built, and classically handsome. He sailed through life with the power and imperviousness of an ironclad, sure of his bearing, convinced of his destination.

His first glimpse of Venetia Fitzhugh Townsend only further fueled that sense of certainty.

The annual Eton and Harrow cricket match, a highlight of the London Season, had just paused for the players’ afternoon tea. Christian left the Harrow players’ pavilion to speak to his stepmother—his former stepmother, as a matter of fact, as she had recently returned from her honeymoon with her new husband.

Christian’s father, the late duke, had been a disappointment, as self-important as he’d been frivolous. He had, however, been fortunate in his choice of wives. Christian’s mother, who’d died too young for him to remember, was generally praised as saintly. His stepmother, who came into his life not long thereafter, had proved a great friend and a staunch ally.

He’d seen the dowager duchess earlier, in the middle of the match. But now she no longer stood in the same spot. As Christian scanned the far edge of the field, the sight of a young woman momentarily halted his gaze.

She was casually perched on the back of an open phaeton, yawning behind her fan. Her posture was slouchy, as if she’d secretly rid herself of the whalebone undergarments that bludgeoned other ladies to sit as stiff as effigies. But what made her stand out from the crowd was her hat—a coronet of apricot-colored feathers that reminded him of the sea anemones that had fascinated him in childhood.