My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(4)

“I never did ken what to do with goodbyes,” he says, laughing to conceal the tears shining in his eyes.

“Especially ones you don’t want to say,” you agree. He looks at you, his good and glorious eyes searching yours for what you think might be the last time.

You kiss him. “We won’t say anything, then.”

“Nothing at all.”

You nod at each other and then, rubbing his eyes, Mac strides away. You sigh as you watch his perfect, retreating form…but you know in your soul that this is for the best. Your time here has passed. You must make a new life.





But where do you go?

If you want to make things a little easier on yourself and go to Lord Craven’s to teach just one kid in a structure that is not falling apart, turn to this page.

If you want to challenge yourself a little further and see the world with Lady Evangeline, turn to this page.





Any reservations you might have had vanish when you enter Cairo market. You have never seen so many vivid colors, heard so many strange and fascinating sounds, or smelled so many delicious and enticing spices until now—not even in your years existing on the fringes of the ton.

“Oh, Kamal, this is wonderful!” you gasp. Kamal beams.

“Thank you, miss. It is my pleasure to do anything for a friend of Lady Evangeline’s. She has been a great benefactor of the museum—it would not exist without her patronage.”

“I did not know that!” you say in wonder. “Though I suppose I should have realized. She has shown great kindness and generosity to me as well.”

“At that, I am not surprised,” says Kamal. “Lady Evangeline has always surrounded herself with great beauty—” He suddenly stops himself in embarrassment.

“Oh…I don’t think that she—that is to say—” you stammer before giving up.

You continue together down the bustling street in awkward silence before curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, this Delphine St. Croix,” you begin, “is she a great beauty, then?”

“Oh yes!” says Kamal. “One of the loveliest women I have ever seen.”

“Oh.” You feel oddly crushed. “And she and Lady Evangeline were close?”

“Indeed,” says Kamal. “They were a strange pair, Lady Evangeline being a respectable married Englishwoman and Delphine the neglected daughter of a French deserter. But for a long time they were always in each other’s company.”

“So what happened?” you blurt out.

“It is a mystery, though the change in their friendship coincided with Delphine suddenly disappearing from respectable society. Lady Evangeline and her late husband returned to England not long aft—” Kamal’s eyes widen suddenly. The crossroads you stand in have become suddenly deserted, save four dangerous-looking ruffians. At the very head of the group stands the man you had entrusted to protect you, his green eyes coldly triumphant.

“Farouk?!” Kamal cries.

“No,” says the man, ripping off the scarf to reveal a face as beautiful as it is brutal. He laughs mirthlessly. “My true name is Fabien. Fabien de Mangepoussey. You have been too preoccupied with your foolish antiques to notice that while you employ me as your guard, I have been working for another this whole time. And now my mission is almost complete.”

Farouk—Fabien—takes a step toward you, his fluid movement betraying a sleek, pantherlike power.

“The young lady is coming with me.”





Do you fight off the ruffians and their handsome leader tooth and nail? You’ll be damned if you are going down without a struggle! Turn to this page.

Do you run for your life, dragging Kamal with you? You haven’t a hope in hell of fighting them off, and you doubt your new Egyptologist friend does either. Turn to this page.





For some, sharing a moment such as this would erase any desire but to hold each other close and cry. But for you and Craven, the moments soon give way to each stroking the other’s body and speaking fluently in the unmistakable language of carnal lust.

By the time you finish, bookshelves have toppled. The brandy bottle has broken. You both have lost a bit of hair. But you feel flushed and satisfied in the knowledge that your sexual match exists in this world and is currently slumbering peacefully: Craven, washed clean in moonlight. You dare not disturb him and rise softly to your feet.

You creep out of the room and into the hall with visions of leftovers from the sideboard in the morning room dancing in your head. You will help yourself to a brief repast and bring some back for your love. Likely, you will both need nourishment for a full night, and possibly morning, of lovemaking ahead.

You stumble blearily through the manor. When you have hit the main hall of the house, you hear the sound of a burbling brook nearby. You figure you are in that happy, half-dreaming state in which people in love operate, or so you’ve heard. But when the brook burbles the words “I have done all you have asked of me, my queen,” you immediately sober up.

You realize you are standing just outside the morning room, and the voice you hear within belongs to none other than…that devil Manvers.





Hang on tight, sweeting. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. Turn to this page.