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May 2007 Velvet Angel Jude Deveraux "Now, Let's Get You Out of This Dress." Elizabeth jerked away from him, her eyes hostile. "I am more comfortable in my clothes, thank you." "All right, have your own way." Miles turned and began to undress while Elizabeth fled to the protection of her bed. "What would it take to make you love a man?" he murmured. "I don't think I could," she replied honestly. "I'm beginning to think I want to test that. Goodnight, my fragile angel." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This book is a work of historical fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents relating to nonhistorical figures are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of such nonhistorical incidents, places, or figures to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 Copyright © 1983 by Deveraux Inc. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. ISBN: 0-671-73973-5 First Pocket Books printing December 1983 Printed in the U.S.A. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Joan Schulhafer, who started as my publicist and became my friend. Thank you for all the love and laughter, and most of all, for all you taught me. Chapter 1 ^ » The South of England August 1502 Elizabeth Chatworth stood on the very edge of the steep cliff, gazing toward the sea of tall barley grasses. Below her, seemingly tiny men walked with scythes on their shoulders, a few rode horses and one drove a team of oxen. But Elizabeth didn't really see the men because her chin was held too high and it was locked into place so rigidly that nothing was going to bring it down. A warm gust of wind tried to force her away from the edge but she braced her legs and refused to move. If what had already happened to her today and now what she faced did not sway her, no mere wind was going to break her stance. Her green eyes were dry but her throat was swollen shut with a lump of anger and unshed tears. A muscle in her jaw flexed and unflexed as she breathed deeply, trying to control her pounding heart. Another gust of wind blew her tangled mass of honey blonde hair away from her back and, unbeknownst to Elizabeth, one last pearl disentangled itself and slid down the torn, dirty red silk of her dress. The finery she'd worn to her friend's wedding was now shredded beyond repair, her hair loose and flowing, her cheek smudged-and her hands were crudely tied behind her back. Elizabeth lifted her eyes toward heaven, unblinking at the bright daylight. All her life, she'd had her looks referred to as angelic and never had she looked so delicate, so serene, so much like a celestial being as she did now with her heavy hair swirling about her like some silken cloak, her ragged gown giving her the look of a Christian martyr. But the farthest thoughts from Elizabeth's mind were ones of sweetness-or of forgiving. "I will fight to the death," she murmured skyward, her eyes darkening to the color of an emerald on a moonlit night. "No man will best me. No man will make me submit to his will." "Pleadin' with the Lord, are you?" came the voice of her captor from beside her. Slowly, as if she had all the time in the world, Elizabeth turned to the man, and the coldness in her eyes made him take a step backward. He was a braggart like the hideous man he served, Pagnell of Waldenham, but this underling was a coward when his master wasn't present. John gave a nervous cough, then boldly stepped forward and grabbed Elizabeth's upper arm. "You may think you're the great lady but for now I'm your master." She looked him squarely in the eyes, showing none of the pain he was causing her-after all she'd had more than enough physical and mental pain in her life. "You will never be anyone's master," she said calmly. For a moment John's hand released its pressure on her arm, but the next second he pulled her forward and pushed her roughly.
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