Hostage to Fortune is released in October!

Hostage to Fortune, my Georgian romance is released in October by New Concepts Publishing.
 Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds

Here's a taste! Not yet edited.
Enjoy!

Maggi

The fiacre travelledalong the Seine as the homeless settled down for the night under its bridges.It was dangerous to be out alone and unescorted. As Verity's father could no longerhelp her, she had to learn to adapt quickly, a woman on her own in Paris mustlearn to be devious. She caressed the reassuring bulk of the flintlock pistolin her reticule, but if a mob took it into their minds to rob her, the weaponwould provide her little protection.

          Paris had become a surging crowd ofinhumanity, first with the food riots and now as crowds flocked to watch thetumbrel take poor unfortunates to the guillotine. The Committee of Surveillancewas weeding out the disguised aristos trying to escape Paris through thebarricades. Even the king and the queen stood in very real danger. Verityshivered. What hope existed for her father, a humble academic who, motivated byhis love for France dared to voice his opinions? He stood accused of being acounter-revolutionary. Over on the Ile de la Citéwere the towering walls of the Palais de Justice and the Conciergerie, wherethe Guards had taken him, snatching him away in the night. She had not beenable to discover how he was. A few days later, men had come and stripped their homeof most of its valuables and she found herself out on the street with just afew sticks of furniture and very little money.
          The carriage pulled up as the clockstruck midnight, the wishing hour. She doubted her wish would be granted thisnight, but she refused to give up all hope. Pulling the hood of her cloak overher head, she stepped from the vehicle and gave instructions to the coachman toreturn within the hour.
          Along the wall, shadows moved beyondthe circle of lantern light. Verity hurried towards the ornate buildingoverlooking Notre Dame. Badly damaged and desecrated, the Gothic cathedralstood silent across the water,stripped of its meaning. Paris was a godless city.
          A yawning caretaker opened the door.He silently waved towards the staircase. Verity climbed to the next floor andknocked at the door.
          Jacques opened it. "Mademoiselle." Hestepped aside for her to pass. His apartments gleamed in the light of severalcandelabrums. The opulent surroundings failed to match his simple countrywaistcoat and plaited hair, the dress of the Jacobins. Marble statues perchedon pedestals, swags of silk decorated the windows, gilt mirrors and paintingsfilled every space on the walls. No servants appeared to attend them. Through adoorway she glimpsed a four-poster bed festooned with rose damask. Sheattempted to calm herself with a deep breath.
          "Allow me to take your cape."
          Her mind raced. She had successfullyevaded men like him since she'd become an actress, but she had no answernow. A determined rake like this man would not want to fail in his seduction.And he held a trump card. He knew she wanted something from him.
          "Wine?"
          "Merci."  She didn't want the wine, but it was adelaying tactic and would banish her nerves. She studied the crystal glasssparkling with a myriad of flickering lights. A superb vintage she felt sure,and yet the wine soured in her mouth. She took several quick sips.
          Jacques steeled her wrist. "Not sofast." He took her glass and placed it on the table. "I do not like to seducewomen the worse for wine."
          "Why do you want me?" She couldn'tresist asking. "You know I'm only here because I need your help."
          He shrugged. "Ungallant of me to tellyou, but you will persist. Your refusal to take a lover is the subject of muchdiscussion, mademoiselle. A virgin actress is as rare as a benevolent aristo. Ibet my compatriots that I would be the one to remove you of that burden."Jacques pulled on the cuff at his sleeve, his dark eyes shining with egotism."It is true, is it not? You have been seen with no man and no scandal has everattached itself to you."
          He took her silence as agreement andflicked his tongue over his bottom lip. "The first time is seldom the best.Given time, I will introduce you to such delights you will thank me."         
          He was so fatuous that a surge ofdislike cut through her fear. "And I promise to thank you," she said, "afteryou persuade the Committee of General Security to release my father fromimprisonment. I know your word carries enormous weight, citizen." Verityattempted a reverential smile, but suspected she failed. She had again beggedher father's jailer, Georges Danton, for leniency, to no avail. Instead, he hadmade a shattering announcement.
          She doubted Jacques was focusing onher words. Taking her by surprise, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling herroughly against him. "You will not leave here tonight without giving mesomething on account I think."
          He was a short man but forceful.Feeling the strength of his arm, Verity swallowed. "I am a good actress. Howcan you be sure I will not act out my pleasure with you?"
          He paused. "You may the firsttime. But only the first time."
          "There won't be a second, Jacques."
          He raised a brow. "Non?"
          Danton's orders had sent herplummeting into a spiral of despair, but she almost enjoyed telling Jacques."Danton sends me to London with the acting troupe. We leave on the morrow."
          He dropped his hands from her waist."Why would he do that?"
          "He wishes me to perform aseduction of my own. I must entice a man back to France."
          "Who is this man?"
          "Viscount Beaumont."
          He frowned in puzzlement. "AnEnglishman?"
          "He married into French nobility. Iknow no other reason."
          Jacques gave a seductive smile. "Thenwe'd best not waste the few hours left to us."