My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel

My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel

Kitty Curran & Larissa Zageris




Halt!


The course of true love never did run straight—and neither does this book. Do not submit yourself to woe and confusion by turning the pages in numerical order! Skimming to a different section or letting your eye linger too long on the entry next to your intended destination could have the same result as committing a similar act of impropriety while at a ball: SCANDAL! HEARTBREAK! UTTER RUIN!

In other words, no cheating.

Instead, begin your romantic journey on page one, and follow the instructions at the bottom of each page. These choices will guide you from the sweeping Highlands of rugged Scotland to the mysterious moors of foggy Yorkshire to the exotic plains of sand-swept Egypt. Every decision has the potential to bring you everlasting happiness or deepest despair—so select with care!

Choose wisely, and you could end up the talk of the ton, wrapped in the embrace of an exciting, eternally faithful, extremely becoming mate of superior charm and devotion. Choose poorly, and you may end up destitute and begging for scraps in the slimiest slums of London. Truly, in matters of love, anything is possible.

Now on with you—your romantic fate awaits!





Dramatis Personae

YOU are you. The plucky, penniless, Regency-era London version. As a lass of eight-and-twenty who can cover a screen just as well as she can jam out sonatas on the pianoforte, you are under the gun to find love with a suitably wealthy, good-hearted, or libidinous match—else find yourself an eternal spinster.

LADY EVANGELINE YOUNGBLOOD is a free-spirited Woman with a Past—and your very best (ahem, only) friend. She is a lover of intrigue, battle, and experiment; scandal attends her every move. She gives the rakes of the less-fair sex a run for their money in the roguish-behavior department, when she isn’t sending her aunt, Lady Aurelia Craven, to despondence with tales of her bluestocking bawdiness. She promises to save you from spinsterhood one way or another, if you insist. She has wanted to get back to Egypt for quite some time and could use a traveling companion…

SIR BENEDICT GRANVILLE is a well-off relation of Lady Craven. He is pretty, witty, and earns ten thousand a year. Banter is this baronet’s weapon of choice in the war waged between London’s marriage-hungry society mamas and eligible young bachelors. Too clever by half for most of the half-wits he interacts with, Sir Granville meets his match only when you deign to engage him in a battle of wits—and base desires.

CAPTAIN ANGUS MACTAGGART is a rugged Scotsman with a chip on his shoulder and a heart of gold. Not a man for society’s frivolities, he spends his days caring for the orphans and widows of recent wars. Although a finely muscled ginger with a passion as fiery as his hair, “Mac” is more concerned with doing good works than doing others. Still, his honorable soldier’s body courses with the awesome power of the Highland moors from which he hails, and the love of an honest woman could give both Mac and that lass the ride of their lives.

LORD GARRAWAY CRAVEN is so mad and bad that word round the ton is even Lord Byron finds knowing him to be dangerous. Prone to rages and prolonged unexplained absences (and no shortage of shirts worn open to reveal his rippling muscles), Lady Craven’s son is master of Hopesend Manor. Could he also be master of your heart? Brutish and brooding, Lord Craven is a wild beast who cannot be tamed. But perhaps so are you…





Move that leg, girl!” the dowager Lady Craven hisses as she prods you with her cane. The two of you are sitting in the back of her rather shabby carriage, on the way to your first social event since you started working as her lady’s companion more than a year ago. Sadly, this behavior is far from extraordinary, so you merely sigh and squeeze yourself into an even tinier part of the seat. At this point, one more prod and you would be making love to the carriage door.

“Such a miserable occasion. I can’t think why Evangeline is making us attend,” Lady Craven mutters.

“Well, it is for the widows and orphans of the war—” you venture to say politely, before being cut off with a glare that could strip paint.

“Did I sound like I wanted your opinion?” You know what’s good for you and stop talking immediately. Lady Craven continues on her tirade. “Truly, you are just as woolheaded as your grandfather was. Odious man! I have no idea what your grandmother was thinking when she married him—and with no fortune to recommend him, either! I daresay your late father was just the same, seeing as he didn’t see fit to provide for you after his death…”

Spending most of your time with Lady Craven has made you a master at biting your tongue, yet her cruel words about your beloved papa cut you to your core. Still, you depend upon the old dragon for your entire livelihood, so you have no choice but to grit your teeth and clench your fists into the worn fabric of your dress. An old castoff from Lady Craven, the frock is at least twenty years out of date, and you highly suspect that she chose it for you because the mustard-yellow color clashes horribly with your complexion.

“If it wasn’t for the affection I still hold for your late mother, I should have cast you out into the street! And what would you have done then, eh?”

You brood silently yet demurely.

“Probably try to find yourself a protector, no doubt!” she continues. “Just as you have shamelessly set your cap at Sir Charles Burley-Fanshaw. Though I doubt anyone would want to have anything to do with such a silly little chit!”

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