Margaret McPhee

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The Captain's Lady

Re-released more recently together with The Captain's Lady in Regency Debutantes


“ ‘
There’s no easy way to say this, Captain Hawke, so I’ll strive to be brief and to the point. Please remember throughout that I...that I never intended the position in which I now find myself. Such a possibility never entered my mind.’ She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes wide and clear, her voice elegant and polite. ‘The fact of the matter is I’m not who I appear to be.’ She paused, her breath coming fast and furious, almost as if she had run the length of the ship.

‘I’d gathered that much. And you’re now about to do me the honour of revealing your true identity.’ His tone was dry, but there was an encouraging gentleness in his eyes and Georgiana knew that Nathaniel Hawke was a fair man. The knowledge gave her the confidence that she so desperately needed to continue.

‘Yes.’ The single word slipped softly into the silence of the cabin.

Nathaniel experienced a reflexive tensing of his muscles and an overwhelming intuitive certainty that the next words to be uttered by the ragamuffin boy standing so quietly before him would change his life forever.

The boy’s chin forced up high. The grey-blue eyes met his without flinching. The narrow chest expanded with a deep breath. ‘I am Miss Georgiana Raithwaite, recently of your acquaintance at Farleigh Hall.’

Still the breath held, tightly squeezed within her lungs. She waited. Waited. And never once did her gaze wander from those dark eyes that were staring back at her with an undisguised disbelief.


The blood ran cold in Nathaniel’s veins and a shiver flittered down his spine. It was not possible. The ragged boy, Miss Raithwaite.

‘You cannot be Miss Raithwaite. You’re a ...’

Georgiana endured the roving scrutiny of his eyes without moving.


Regency Debutantes

‘Hell’s teeth!’ Nathaniel cursed and stood upright. A horrible sinking sensation was starting within his stomach, for beneath the grubby urchin face he could see what had previously eluded him – the fine features of the young woman he had pulled from the River Borne. ‘Dear God!’ Nathaniel could not suppress the exclamation.

‘How ironic that my present trouble has arisen from my refusal to bathe when that is one of the things I’ve longed so ardently to do these two weeks past.’ She smiled then, a smile that lit up her face.

Nathaniel stared and stared some more. Inadvertently his eyes dropped lower, as if he could see beneath the torn blue jacket.”

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