Passion and scandal collide in New York Times bestselling author Julia London’s brand-new series about four sisters determined to rescue themselves from ruin…

Desperate times call for daring measures as Honor Cabot, the eldest stepdaughter of the wealthy Earl of Beckington, awaits her family’s ruin. Upon the earl’s death she and her sisters stand to lose the luxury of their grand home—and their place on the pedestal of society—to their stepbrother and his social-climbing fiancée. Forced to act quickly, Honor makes a devil’s bargain with the only rogue in London who can seduce her stepbrother’s fiancée out of the Cabots’ lives for good.

An illegitimate son of a duke, George Easton was born of scandal and grows his fortune through dangerous risks. But now he and Honor are dabbling in a perilous dance of seduction that puts her reputation and his jaded heart on the line. And as unexpected desire threatens to change the rules of their secret game, the stakes may become too high even for a notorious gambler and a determined, free-spirited debutante to handle.


Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Julia London

“Julia London writes vibrant, emotional stories and sexy, richly drawn characters.”


—New York Times bestselling author Madeline Hunter

“The Last Debutante is another successful merger of witty writing and passionate romance that gracefully delivers everything romance readers could want.”


—Booklist

“London’s story is satisfying as it builds on the excellent chemistry of the leads, gracefully unfolding with the perfect amount of tension.”


—Publishers Weekly on The Revenge of Lord Eberlin

“Exceptionally entertaining…sinfully sexy.”


—Booklist on The Dangers of Deceiving a Viscount

“As London explores the intricate, authentic-feeling relationships blossoming among the players, her masterful ability to bring characters to life makes this romance entirely absorbing.”


—Publishers Weekly on The Dangers of Deceiving a Viscount

“London’s love story is tense and tender, held aloft by endearing, dynamic characters.”


—Publishers Weekly on The Perils of Pursuing a Prince


JULIA


LONDON

The Trouble with Honor









Dear Reader,

I am so excited to present The Trouble with Honor to you! This is my first book for the Harlequin HQN line, but I have written many historical romances, almost all of them set in the Regency period. I love the pageantry of the era and how society and the concern for appearances ruled the gentry. But I imagine that human nature being what it is, there were those who did not like to live by the rules, who chafed at being ruled at all and who dared to break the rules.

In this series about the Cabot sisters, I introduce four young, privileged women who are expected to aspire to a very good marriage and not much else. But when their fortunes begin to change, these four are determined to break the rules that bind them and define happiness on their own terms. However, when one is raised in the lap of luxury, and learns nothing more taxing than some intricate stitching, one may not be equipped to circumvent the rules. One’s attempts to do so may go very, very badly. I hope you enjoy the Cabot sisters and their shenanigans as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Happy reading,

Julia London


For my mother,


who instilled a love of books and reading in me


from the beginning.


Contents

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


CHAPTER ONE

THE TROUBLE BEGAN in the spring of 1812, in a gaming hell south of the Thames, a seedy bit of Southwark known to be thick with thieves.

It was beyond comprehension how the old structure, originally built in the time of the Vikings, had become one of the most fashionable places for gentlemen of the Quality to be, but indeed it had. The interior was sumptuous, with thick red velvet draperies, rich wood and low ceilings. Night after night, they came from their stately Mayfair homes in heavily armed coaches to spend an evening losing outrageous sums of money to one another. And when a gentleman had lost his allotted amount for the evening, he might enjoy the company of a lightskirt, as there were ample private rooms and French women to choose from.

On a bitterly cold night, a month before the start of the social Season—when, inevitably, the gentlemen would eschew this gaming hell for the Mayfair assembly rooms and balls that had become a spring rite for the wealthy and privileged—a group of young Corinthians were persuaded by the smiles and pretty pleas of five debutantes to have a look at this gaming hell.

It was dangerous and foolish for the young men to risk forever marring the reputations of such precious flowers. But young, brash and full of piss, they’d been eager to please. They did not allow the hell’s rule of no women to deter them, or that any number of mishaps or crimes could befall the young women in the course of their lark. It was a bit of adventure in the middle of a gloomy winter.

It was in that Southwark gaming hell where George Easton first made the acquaintance of one of those debutantes: Miss Honor Cabot.

He hadn’t noticed the commotion at the door when the young bucks had arrived with their prizes, flush with the excitement of their daring and overly proud for having convinced the man at the door to give them entry. George had been too intent on divesting thirty pounds from Mr. Charles Rutherford, a notorious gambler, in the course of a game of Commerce. He didn’t realize anything was amiss until Rutherford said, “What the devil?”

It was then that he noticed the young women standing like so many birds, fluttering and preening in the middle of the room, their hooded cloaks framing their lovely faces, their giggles infecting one another while their gazes darted between the many men who eyed them like a paddock full of fine horses.

“Bloody hell,” George muttered. He threw down his cards as Rutherford stood, the poor lass in his lap stumbling as she tried to stop herself from being dumped onto the floor.

“What in blazes are they doing here?” Rutherford demanded. He squinted at the group of them. “Bloody unconscionable, it is. See here!” he rumbled loudly. “This is not to be borne! Those girls should be removed at once!”

The three young gentlemen who had undertaken this adventure looked at one another. The smallest one lifted his chin. “They’ve as much right to be present as you, sir.”

George could see from Mr. Rutherford’s complexion that he was in danger of apoplexy, and he said, quite casually, “Then, for God’s sake, have them sit and play. Otherwise, they’re a distraction to the gentlemen here.”

“Play?” Rutherford said, his eyes all but bulging from their sockets. “They are not fit to play!”

“I am,” said one lone feminine voice.

Ho there, which of them dared to speak? George leaned around Rutherford to have a look, but the birds were fluttering and moving, and he couldn’t see which of them had said it.

“Who said that?” Rutherford demanded loudly enough that the gentlemen seated at the tables around them paused in their games to see what was the commotion.

None of the young ladies moved; they stared wide-eyed at the banker. Just as it seemed Rutherford would begin a rant, one of them shyly stepped forward. A ripple went through the crowd as the lass looked at Rutherford and then at George. He was startled by the deep blue of her eyes and her dark lashes, the inky black of her hair framing a face as pale as milk. One did not expect to see such youthful beauty here.

“Miss Cabot?” Rutherford said incredulously. “What in blazes are you doing here?”