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IN PURSUIT OF A CHRISTMAS BRIDE

THE SOCIETY OF SCANDALOUS BRIDES PREQUEL

REBECCA PAULA

Copyright © 2023 by Rebecca Paula

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

11. Sneak Peek of In Want of a Wife

About the Author

Also by Rebecca Paula

CHAPTER 1

Henry Davies had but one wish—to retire early at his bachelor’s apartment that evening after a long day at court.

In silence.

There would be brandy, a good book, and perhaps a small fire to chase the anticipatory chill of the coming autumn days. He would turn in for the evening at nine, promptly.

Many would consider it boring, but for him, it would be heaven. Or very close to it.

Instead, Henry was flanked by five colleagues prodding him none too gently to join in on their fun evening.

“No thank you, gentlemen.” He grabbed his texts and stood, examining the dwindling crowd in the courtroom. What a day it had been. He had argued his case, and well, but the judge had been tough, and he feared he would lose.

“Come out with us. We promise to find you some company.”

“Yes, of the female persuasion. Might do you good.”

“Not necessary.” He stood, glaring at everyone. “I have no interest in company. No time.”

His friend Benjamin Currey threw his head back and laughed. “No time? That is all you have outside of the law.”

Henry navigated the narrow aisles and weaved his way out into the hallway. His friends could laugh, but he had worked years to reach this point, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off his goal of becoming attorney general. It was hard now, and it would be for a while, but he had a duty to his family to make something of himself like his father.

“Come on now, Davies, it’s my birthday. Couldn’t you allow yourself to break free for one night?”

True, Stephen Greenwald was in fact celebrating his thirty-fourth year, but why Henry…

The simple fact of it was, Henry had no interest in spending his night at the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens with his fellow colleagues, seeking and participating in all sorts of raucous trouble. No, he had a near-flawless reputation for a reason, and he would not be tempted.

Could not be tempted.

He tugged at his jabot, convinced it wasn’t straight.

“Are you telling me that the tightrope act won’t lure even you out of your apartment for the evening and away from your precious law texts? There will be fireworks as well,” said Benjamin.

Henry scoffed, glancing back over his shoulder as his friends chased at his heels. “I study the law so that I am the best.”

“And you are,” Stephen said, tossing his arm around Henry’s shoulder. “You are the very best at what you do. Your mind is something men will study for years to come.” He held out his free hand and waved it. “Your passion, your devotion to the law…”

“They’ll say ‘What a prized, legal mind Henry Davies possessed.’” His friend Michael Webb jogged a few steps ahead, descending through the front entrance, about to burst out onto the streets of London.

Henry might as well have been a wallflower, trying his best to remove Stephen’s arm and retreat into the small sliver of silence London had to offer—his apartment.

“One night. That’s all,” Michael insisted, spinning to address him on the street after they all poured out of the courthouse. He tore off his wig, revealing a head of black matted curls.

“Better yet,” Stephen said, pulling a flask from his jacket and draining the well-worn vessel, “give me one hour. Surely you can afford to spare one hour from your evening?”

Henry normally hailed a hackney to convey him home, but tonight, even that wouldn’t be fast enough.

“No.” He glanced up the street, then down, searching for any escape as his colleagues encircled him.

“I promise it will be the best night of your life.” Stephen reached for Michael’s flask and handed it to Henry, who flatly refused. “May I remind you about my first point? There will be women there⁠—”

Are sens