The Masqueraders
This Georgian-era romance "with elopements, rescues, duels, and cards . . . [is] a picturesque and engaging story" from the acclaimed master of the genre (The Spectator).
When Prudence and Robin Tremaine find themselves on the wrong side of the Jacobite rebellion, the siblings follow their infamous father's cunning footsteps and switch identities, escaping to London with Prudence posing as a dashing gentleman and Robin as a lovely young woman. They are so skillful, in fact, that they are warmly embraced, with the disguised Prudence finding herself in an alliance with the handsome Sir Anthony Fanshawe and the concealed Robin performing a rescue that wins him the admiration of the beautiful Letitia Grayson. But when Prudence finds herself falling for Sir Anthony, and Robin struggles to resist the tender charms of Letitia, they wonder if they'll ever be able to safely let go of their masquerade to answer the call of love.
 
Praise for the writing of Georgette Heyer:
 
"If you haven't read her yet, I envy you." —Harriet Evans
 
"My favourite historical novelist." —Margaret Drabble
 
"Reading Georgette Heyer is the next best thing to reading Jane Austen." —Publishers Weekly
 
"A writer of great wit and style." —The Daily Telegraph
1000491858
The Masqueraders
This Georgian-era romance "with elopements, rescues, duels, and cards . . . [is] a picturesque and engaging story" from the acclaimed master of the genre (The Spectator).
When Prudence and Robin Tremaine find themselves on the wrong side of the Jacobite rebellion, the siblings follow their infamous father's cunning footsteps and switch identities, escaping to London with Prudence posing as a dashing gentleman and Robin as a lovely young woman. They are so skillful, in fact, that they are warmly embraced, with the disguised Prudence finding herself in an alliance with the handsome Sir Anthony Fanshawe and the concealed Robin performing a rescue that wins him the admiration of the beautiful Letitia Grayson. But when Prudence finds herself falling for Sir Anthony, and Robin struggles to resist the tender charms of Letitia, they wonder if they'll ever be able to safely let go of their masquerade to answer the call of love.
 
Praise for the writing of Georgette Heyer:
 
"If you haven't read her yet, I envy you." —Harriet Evans
 
"My favourite historical novelist." —Margaret Drabble
 
"Reading Georgette Heyer is the next best thing to reading Jane Austen." —Publishers Weekly
 
"A writer of great wit and style." —The Daily Telegraph
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The Masqueraders

The Masqueraders

by Georgette Heyer
The Masqueraders

The Masqueraders

by Georgette Heyer

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Overview

This Georgian-era romance "with elopements, rescues, duels, and cards . . . [is] a picturesque and engaging story" from the acclaimed master of the genre (The Spectator).
When Prudence and Robin Tremaine find themselves on the wrong side of the Jacobite rebellion, the siblings follow their infamous father's cunning footsteps and switch identities, escaping to London with Prudence posing as a dashing gentleman and Robin as a lovely young woman. They are so skillful, in fact, that they are warmly embraced, with the disguised Prudence finding herself in an alliance with the handsome Sir Anthony Fanshawe and the concealed Robin performing a rescue that wins him the admiration of the beautiful Letitia Grayson. But when Prudence finds herself falling for Sir Anthony, and Robin struggles to resist the tender charms of Letitia, they wonder if they'll ever be able to safely let go of their masquerade to answer the call of love.
 
Praise for the writing of Georgette Heyer:
 
"If you haven't read her yet, I envy you." —Harriet Evans
 
"My favourite historical novelist." —Margaret Drabble
 
"Reading Georgette Heyer is the next best thing to reading Jane Austen." —Publishers Weekly
 
"A writer of great wit and style." —The Daily Telegraph

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781504082259
Publisher: Open Road Media
Publication date: 01/01/2024
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 325
File size: 3 MB

About the Author

Georgette Heyer was an English novelist and short story writer. She authored both historical romance and detective fiction. Heyer's writing career began in 1921, when she turned a story initially written for her younger brother into the novel The Black Moth

Read an Excerpt

The Masqueraders


Chapter One

A lady in distress

IT HAD BEGUN TO RAIN an hour ago, a fine driving mist with the sky grey above. The gentleman riding beside the chaise surveyed the clouds placidly. "Faith, it's a wonderful climate," he remarked of no one in particular.

The grizzled serving man who rode some paces to the rear spurred up to him. "Best put up for the night, sir," he grunted. "There's an inn a mile or two on."

The window of the chaise was let down with a clatter, and a lady looked out. "Child, you'll be wet," she said to her cavalier. "How far to Norman Cross?"

The serving man rode up close to the chaise. "Another hour, ma'am. I'm saying we'd best put up for the night."

"I'd as soon make Norman Cross," said the gentleman, "for all it's plaguily damp."

"There's an inn close by, as I remember," the servant repeated, addressing himself to the lady.

"En avant, then. Produce me the inn," the lady said.

"Give you joy of your England, Peter my little man."

The gentleman laughed. "Oh, it's a comforting spot, Kate."

The inn came soon into sight, a square white house glimmering through the dusk. There were lights in the windows, and a post-chaise drawn up in the court before it.

The gentleman came lightly down from the saddle. He was of medium height, and carried himself well. He had a neat leg encased in a fine riding boot, and a slender hand in an embroidered gauntlet.

There was straight-way a bustle at the inn. An ostler came running; mine host appeared in the porch with a bow and a scrape and a waiting man sped forth to assist in letting down the steps of the chaise.

"Two bedchambers, for myself and my sister," said the gentleman. "Dinner, and a private room."

Consternation was in the landlord's face. "Bedchambers, sir. Yes - on the instant! Polly, the two best bed-chambers, and fires to be lit in them!" A serving maid went scuttling off. "Sir, the private room!" Mine host bowed, and spread a pair of deprecating hands. "But this moment, sir, it was bespoken by a lady and a gentleman travelling south." He looked slyly, and cast down his eyes. "But they stay only for dinner, sir, and if your honour and the lady would condescend to the coffee-room -? There's never a soul likely to come tonight, and 'twill be private enough."

There was a rustle of skirts. My lady came down from the chaise with a hand on her servant's shoulder.

"The coffee-room or any other so I get out of this wet!" she cried, and swept into the inn with her cavalier behind her.

They found themselves straight in a comfortable large room. There was a table set, and a wood fire burning in the hearth. A door led out into a passage at the back, where the stairs rose steeply, and another to one side, giving on to the taproom.

A trim girl in a mob cap brought more candles, and dropped a shy curtsey to the lady. "If you please, my lady, should I take your ladyship's cloak? Your ladyship's abigail ...?"

"Alack, the creature's not with me!" mourned Madam Kate. "Take the cloak up to my chamber, child. So!" She put back the hood from her head, and untied the strings round her throat. The cloak was given to the maid; Madam stood up in a taffety gown of blue spread over a wide hoop. She wore her fair ringlets en demie toilette, free from powder, with a blue ribbon threaded through, and a couple of curls allowed to fall over her shoulder. The maid thought her a prodigiously lovely lady and bobbed another curtsey before she went away with the cloak.

My lady's brother gave his three-cornered hat into his servant's keeping, and struggled out of his great-coat. He was much of his sister's height, a little taller perhaps, and like enough to her in appearance. His hair was of a darker brown, confined demurely at the neck by a black riband; and his eyes showed more grey than blue in the candlelight. Young he seemed, for his cheek was innocent of all but the faintest down; but he had a square shoulder, and a good chin, rounded, but purposeful enough. The landlord, following him into the coffee-room, was profuse in apologies and obeisances, for he recognised a member of the Quality. The lady wore a fine silk gown, and Mr Merriot a modish coat of brown velvet, with gold lacing, and a quantity of Mechlin lace at his throat and wrists. A pretty pair, in all, with the easy ways of the Quality, and a humorous look about the eyes that made them much alike. The landlord began to talk of capons and his best burgundy, and was sent off to produce them.

Miss Merriot sat down by the fire, and stretched one foot in its buckled shoe to the blaze. There was a red heel to her shoe, and marvellous embroidered clocks to her silken stockings. "So!" said Miss Merriot. "How do you, my Peter?"

"I don't melt in a shower of rain, I believe," Peter said, and sat down on the edge of the table, swinging one booted leg.

"No, faith, child, there's too much of you for that."

The gentleman's rich chuckle sounded. "I'm sufficiently substantial, in truth," he remarked. He drew out his gold and enamelled snuff-box from one of his huge coat pockets, and took a pinch with an air, delicately shaking the ruffles of lace back from his wrists. A ruby ring glowed on one of his long fingers, while on the other hand he wore a big gold seal ring. A smile crept up into his eyes, and lurked at the corners of his mouth. "I'd give something to know where the old gentleman is," he said.

"Safe enough, I'll be bound," Madam answered, and laughed. "It's the devil himself, I believe, and will appear in London to snap his fingers under the noses of all King George's men."

"Fie, Kate: my poor, respected papa!" Mr Merriot was not shocked. He fobbed his snuff-box and put it away. A faint crease showed between his brows. "For all he named London - egad, 'tis like his impudence! - it's odds he's gone to France."

"I don't permit myself to hope too much," said Miss Merriot, with a smile at once dreamy and a little impish. "He'll be there to lead us another of his mad dances. If not ... I've a mind to try our own fortunes."

(Continues...)



Excerpted from The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

One: A Lady in Distress

Two: Arrival of a Large Gentleman

Three: My Lady Lowestoft

Four: Mistress Prudence to Herself

Five: Sir Humphrey Grayson Waits Upon Mr Merriot

Six: The Polite World Receives Mr and Miss Merriot

Seven: A Taste of a Large Gentleman's Temper

Eight: The Black Domino

Nine: Mohocks Abroad

Ten: Sudden and Startling Appearance of the Old Gentleman

Eleven: My Lord Barham in Arlington Street

Twelve: Passage of Arms Between Prudence and Sir Anthony

Thirteen: Encounter at White's

Fourteen: My Lord Barham Becomes Mysterious

Fifteen: Challenge to Mr Merriot

Sixteen: Unaccountable Behaviour of Sir Anthony Fanshawe

Seventeen: Sad Falling Out of Friends

Eighteen: The Large Gentleman is Awake

Nineteen: Meeting in Arlington Street

Twenty: Ingenuity of my Lord Barham

Twenty-one: Proceedings of Mr Markham

Twenty-two: Tortuous Methods of my Lord Barham

Twenty-three: The Fight By Moonlight

Twenty-four: Return of Miss Grayson

Twenty-five: Mystery of the Masked Man

Twenty-six: Arrest of Mr Merriot

Twenty-seven: Violence on the King's High Road

Twenty-eight: Exit Miss Merriot

Twenty-nine: The Ride Through the Night

Thirty: Triumph of Lord Barham

Thirty-one: The Honourable Robin Tremaine

Thirty-two: Journey's End

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