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A Promising Virgin
A Promising Virgin
A Promising Virgin
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A Promising Virgin

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Virgins No More, 3

Zethan, Earl of Mitcham, decides, after careful thought, that the stunningly beautiful Miss Sapphire Arnott will make him the perfect wife. It's only when she declines his oh-so-flattering offer that he realizes how rude and arrogant he'd been to her and her brother, and how much he loves her. The only solution is to woo her properly. The Season is almost over. Can Zethan win his lady's hand?

Meanwhile Simeon Arnott is in love with Miss Anne Smith. But she's incredibly rich and he's a mere Baronet. Will she accept his marriage proposal?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 10, 2012
ISBN9781927368503
A Promising Virgin
Author

Berengaria Brown

Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (ghosts, vampires, fairies and werewolves) and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man.... Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

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    Book preview

    A Promising Virgin - Berengaria Brown

    Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

    http://www.evernightpublishing.com

    Copyright© 2012 Berengaria Brown

    ISBN: 978-1-927368-50-3

    Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

    Editor: Kimberly Bowman

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    DEDICATION

    In memory of EFM. I never knew you, but you were still loved and will always be remembered.

    A PROMISING VIRGIN

    Virgins No More, 3

    Berengaria Brown

    Copyright © 2012

    Chapter One

    Zethan, Earl of Mitcham, had to struggle to prevent his lips curling with disgust. It’d been bad enough when Lady Featherby had decorated her ballroom with swathes of pink calico hanging from the ceiling. But this! No words could describe the complete and utter lack of taste in Lord Boxworthy’s party arrangements.

    One corner of the ballroom had been turned into a farmyard. There was a pond with half a dozen ducklings swimming on it. Beside it was a pen with two lambs bleating. A foal was tethered to the side of the pen. A low wall of hay bales completed the display.

    Simeon and Amos Arnott came and stood beside Zethan.

    I’ll lay you a guinea that pond starts to leak and floods the ballroom floor by midnight, said Amos.

    If it doesn’t, the foal will kick the fence down and the lambs will escape, making the ladies run screaming from the room, said Simeon.

    Zethan grinned. This is one ball where I’d actually enjoy seeing those two hell-born brats, Joel and Micah. The mischief they’re capable of is just what Boxworthy needs to prevent anyone else ever attempting such a decorating abomination.

    Amos was staring at the doorway, his jaw sagging. He shut it with an audible snap.

    What? asked Zethan, turning and looking, only to have to force his own mouth shut. Three maids were walking into the room wearing milkmaid costumes. Behind them were two servants leading a cow and carrying a milking stool.

    While one man held the cow’s head, the other milked it, and the three maids carried glasses of fresh milk around the ballroom offering them to the guests.

    The Reverend Barnabas Ridley brought his wife, the former Miss Georgina Arnott, up to the group. What maggot got into Boxworthy’s brain to have a farm in his ballroom? asked Barnabas.

    I hope that’s a rhetorical question, vicar, because I don’t believe a man with all his wits could answer truthfully when ladies are present, said Zethan.

    "My little brothers and sister have done some unusual things at times, but even they would not have planned this to happen at a Ton ball," said Georgina.

    The man’s dicked in the nob. There’s no other explanation for it, added Amos.

    Finally the menservants and maids removed the cow and themselves and the dancing began. Zethan, as always, had avoided signing Lady Mary Featherby’s dance card for the supper dance. Since the incredibly wealthy Mr. John Smith had married the vicar’s sister, Lady Mary’d attached herself to Zethan quite fiercely, and he wasn’t ready to be forced into making a declaration. He wasn’t even sure if he would offer for her. Sapphira Arnott was much more beautiful and had a sweet nature as well. Lady Mary was better born and didn’t have the enormous number of siblings that Miss Sapphira did, but the thought of seeing her over the breakfast cups each day lacked the appeal that imagining Sapphira in that position had.

    Of course, seeing Sapphira naked and writhing under him in bed was also an extremely attractive picture. Sapphira’s skin was unblemished, her eyes so blue, and her golden curls soft and pretty. Her ankle was neatly turned and her body arousing. Lady Mary was nice enough, and if her anger was any guide, she’d be very passionate in bed, but overall, Zethan was inclined to think Sapphira would make a juicier armful. But would she be a better countess?

    It was all such a difficult decision. And a wife really only needed to give him an heir. After that, they could both find their pleasure wherever they pleased. As long as she was discreet of course. He could always ease his aching dick at Chez Claudine. Madame Claudine had been giving him two ladies at a time lately, and no well-bred virgin could compete with the release he experienced at the hands of two of Claudine’s most experienced ladies.

    He was an earl and could choose a wife from the highest in the land, or the most beautiful. He could have whichever woman he wanted. No one would dare say him nay. His estates were extensive, his lineage could be traced back for centuries, and he was the only son. Everything his father had guarded so carefully had come to him. Now, at age nine-and-twenty, it was time he set up his nursery. Months ago he’d narrowed down his list of potential countesses to two. Lady Mary Featherby and Miss Sapphira Arnott. So

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