My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(96)

“I…had hoped…,” he gasps, “to convince Lord Craven to give me the home willingly. When he…refused…I decided to make him…appear to be mad. Manvers was all too ready to help me frame Craven for any misdeeds that would make…the home…easier for me…to claim…”

You pull away right before he climaxes. His eyes are wild and longing, but you aren’t quite in the mood right this second. The naughty vicar has been up to what?

“Manvers was easy to convince that a little…theater would help do the trick. All he had to do was wear some sort of ghostly garb that would make Craven think his dead wife was watching him from the great beyond.”

“You would have had Lord Craven and Master Alexander killed just so you could claim a house?” you ask, bitterness creeping into your tone…and parts.

“A mansion and title, yes,” Loveday says with a sneer. “I wasn’t outright villainous at the first, but when Craven started sleeping with the help, as he put it, Manvers had kittens about how it would desecrate the late Lady Craven. He never knew how I had desecrated the late Lady Craven over and over, right in this very spot.”

All your blood that has not run entirely cold takes the opportunity to do so now.

“So all of this—us—was part of your plan?” you say acidly.

“Of course not. You were to be a pawn, the pièce de résistance once they found your lifeless body in the eldritch garden.”

“You were going to kill me just to stake your claim on a house you do not need, on a title that means nothing, for a fortune that is not truly yours?” You seethe with rage.

“Of course!” He laughs at you and rises to his full, delicate height, so in love with himself and his power that you are by turns aroused and disgusted. “But now you have awakened a passion in me! You give me hope that I could find my place as a Craven in this world, at Hopesend and beyond. You may even help me find redemption after all this is over. Join me, my lady. Join me and revel in taking what you deserve from those who do not.”

His silver tongue slips between your lips again. Why do all the good kissers have to be bad guys?





Do you run from this sodding crazy fool and his murderous plans? If so, turn to this page.

Or do you really have what some would call a destructive penchant for bad boys and want to go all-in on this runaway carriage ride to hell? If so, turn to this page!





“I have never been to Cairo, and I would love to see more of it today,” you reply. To your surprise, Evangeline’s understanding smile is laced with something that looks almost like regret. But why would she regret the departure of a simple creature such as yourself when she has work to do?

“Quite right, my dear,” she says briskly. “Why lock yourself away when there is a world to be explored? Have a wonderful time.”

With that she stalks out of the room, head held regally in the posture of an ancient goddess.

“Where do you suggest we go?” asks Kamal, his formerly doleful face lighting with pride for the city of his birth. “I think Cairo market would be most interesting for a new visitor! After that, we could perhaps see the famous Hanging Church?”

“That sounds marvelous.” You push the memory of Evangeline’s sad eyes far from your mind. “Lead the way!”

Kamal gestures down the nearest corridor. “Farouk, we need you!”

A dark figure looms from the shadows. He nods, his face almost entirely covered by a turban and face wrap, except for a pair of arresting, Nile-green eyes. You shudder, sensing something dangerous beneath the surface, like a crocodile hiding beneath tranquil water. Kamal seems unperturbed and turns to you.

“Farouk will keep us safe on our travels. It is a shame that he was not there last night, for he might have prevented this robbery.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod silently, keeping your eyes on the enormous figure now following you. You really do not have a good feeling about this.





Do you take this chance to make excuses and return to Lady Evangeline? An afternoon in Cairo market is one thing, but an afternoon in Cairo market being “protected” by Frightful McTerrorface is quite another. If so, go to this page.

Or do you go to the market as planned? Bodyguards are meant to be intimidating. And he might turn out to be useful. If so, go to this page.





You find Craven pacing in the library, half drunk on brandy and the past.

At the sight of him, you are furious with longing, and just plain furious. Leave it to this man to flee his responsibilities and run from his desires at the very moment that both require him.

“Put the brandy down, man. It is time for action, not self-sorrow.”

He laughs unkindly, and drinks deeply while squinting into the gathering moonlight, feeling sorry for himself.

“You know not my sorrow, woman,” he growls.

That’s it. You’ve had enough. You slap the brandy from his hand and the smirk from his jaw. He looks at you in shock.

“I do hope your full attention is now on the matter at hand, rather than on your own self-pity,” you say coolly.

“Th-thank you,” Craven stammers.

“You must be strong now, for your son. But first, you must tell me what the devil is going on. We’re a team now, damn it. The beast will out, so out it. Now.”