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Almost a Lady

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Overview

In this exhilarating new novel of romance and intrigue, New York Times bestselling author Jane Feather tells the tale of an adventurous young woman and the hardened spy who is unexpectedly-and most inconveniently-captivated by her....Independent and inquisitive, Meg Barratt wants nothing to do with any stifling society marriage. Meg yearns for the kind of passion that exists only in books-until a violent storm lands her on the high seas with the most dangerous and seductive man she's ever encountered…or imagined.

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Author Information

Bio of Jane Feather

Jane Feather is the New York Times bestselling, award-winning author of Almost a Bride, The Wedding Game, The Bride Hunt, The Bachelor List, Kissed by Shadows, To Kiss a Spy, The Widow's Kiss, The Least Likely Bride, The Accidental Bride, The Hostage Bride, A Valentine Wedding, The Emerald Swan, and many other historical romances. She was born in Cairo, Egypt, and grew up in the New Forest, in the South of England. She began her writing career after she and her family moved to Washington, D.C., in 1981. She now has more than ten million copies of her book in print.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Bantam Books

Filesize

925.34 KB

Number of Pages

464

eBook ISBN

9780553901658

Excerpt from: Almost a Lady by Jane Feather

Chapter 1
The two women walking arm in arm down The Leas along the seafront in Folkestone drew admiring glances from those they passed. There was something striking about their physical differences, one tall and well formed, creamy skinned, dark haired, with large golden-brown eyes, the other small and slight, with the pale freckled complexion that so often went with red hair and lively green eyes.

Meg Barratt paused, slipping her arm out from her companion's, and turned to look across the waters of the Strait of Dover. She rested her folded arms on the wall and lifted her face to the salt spray. The breeze caught her hair, sending red curls flying around her triangular face. She laughed and put a hand to her fashionable straw bonnet.

"I can smell a storm brewing, Bella," she observed.

Her companion, who had stopped beside her, sniffed the wind. "It doesn't look like a storm. The sky's blue, the sea's blue, not a cloud in sight."

"Look over there." Meg pointed towards the horizon. A dark shadow of a bank of cloud was just visible.

The duchess of St. Jules shook her head with amusement. "You always did fancy yourself as a meteorological expert."

"It's my country breeding, lassie," Meg returned in a fair approximation of a broad Kentish accent. "And I can also tell when the tide's coming in."