The Price of Temptation by Lecia Cornwall

school for orphaned girls in Lincolnshire, sending a generous donation of Philip’s money while she still had access to it. She’d sent a dozen such letters over the past months.
    Her husband’s gold would do more good if it were used to feed and educate poor children than it would if the Crown confiscated it.
    The Prince Regent and rich lords like Somerson or Wilton or Frayne had grand enough fortunes.
    Trusted friends had helped her distribute her gifts. Isobel, the Marchioness of Blackwood, had taken the jewelry Philip had given Evelyn and sold it for her. Those funds had gone to the Foundling Hospital as a very large and anonymous donation.
    Marianne, the Countess of Westlake, had helped her sell several valuable paintings from Philip’s collection. It had been a particular joy to sell off the portrait of his favorite mistress, portrayed in nude glory as the Greek goddess of love. The proceeds of that sale had gone to war widows, the donor’s name undisclosed.
    There were other works of art, books, and furnishings to be sold as well, but slowly, carefully, so the Crown didn’t notice.
    She folded the letter with a smirk of satisfaction. Lord Creighton had offered to help her in her charitable pursuits after seeing the painting she had sold and recognizing it as Philip’s. He mentioned he would be traveling to Lincolnshire in the next few days, and offered to deliver her unsigned letter and the generous donation of funds to the orphan school there. He was a true officer and gentleman, and she knew no other soldier with such kindness, such honor.
    Well, perhaps one.
    If Sam Carr had sufficient class and fortune to purchase a commission, she was sure he would make as fine an officer as Major Lord Creighton.
    She trusted Lord Creighton as she trusted Sam. Creighton treated her with the kind of courtesy she used to enjoy as an esteemed lady, a peer’s daughter. He did not ask about Philip.
    He traveled often, and had offered to carry any letters she wished to send. She had no need to worry about the money falling into the wrong hands.
    She had met Lord Creighton through one of the ladies who belonged to the charitable sewing circle. Miss Anne O’Neill had a brother who had served as a sergeant in Creighton’s regiment. Major Creighton paid Anne a visit to tell her that her dear brother had been wounded and was missing.
    While the ladies could do no more than to stitch prayers for Sergeant Patrick O’Neill’s safe return into every garment, Major Lord Creighton could do so much more.
    He had offered to make inquiries at Horse Guards, and the queries of an esteemed major would garner a better response than the pleas of a mere sergeant’s sister. Anne was exceedingly grateful for his lordship’s kindness, and the other ladies in the sewing circle were equally smitten with the gallant officer.
    Unfortunately for Evelyn, after Philip’s treason was made public, the ladies of the sewing circle decided that it would be quite impossible to allow the wife of a traitor to work in their midst. They had cut off all contact with her, snubbing even her donations of knitting wool, as if her offerings were tainted by Philip’s sins and might somehow harm their men.
    She’d been dismayed until Major Lord Creighton had come to call, mentioned seeing Philip’s painting at a recent sale, and kindly offered to take her donations and turn them over to the ladies as his own.
    Evelyn tickled her lips with the end of the quill pen. It had been a wonderful morning. If it hadn’t been for Sam, she would not have gone riding at all, and would not have chanced upon Lord Creighton.
    She wondered now if Sam had known the major, or at least known of him, in Spain. Or perhaps he’d known Sergeant O’Neill. She would ask when she saw him next.
    She frowned, and realized she hadn’t seen him all afternoon. He’d been stiff and formal as he helped her dismount after the ride, for once the perfect servant, even bowing as he took his leave of