Praise for The Making of a Gentleman
“The second installment of the Sons of the Revolution
trilogy showcases Galen’s talents for emotionally powerful
romances that enchant readers… Galen gives her story
wonderful twists and marvelous characterization that make
it a standout.”
— RT Book Reviews
“Replete with a lively wit, vivid descriptions, strong
characters… filled with conflicts, emotional upheaval, a hint
of mystery, and a dose of romance. Galen masterfully writes
a witty, fun, mysterious, and intriguing tale of secrets, lies,
and passion.”
— Rundpinne
“A riveting story… The setting is impeccable, with just
the right amount of detail while the characters, major and
minor, sparkle.”
— Thoughts from Lady Tess
“Fantastic historical romance, full of darkness and light.”
— Night Owl Romance
“Totally absorbing… an adrenaline rush from start to finish!
Shana Galen once again brings her characters to life through
the expertise of her writing.”
— A Romance Review
“A perfect read! If you love historical romances then you
will enjoy this book.
— Cheryl’s Book Nook
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Praise for The Making of a Duchess
“Galen’s trilogy, the stories of lost brothers, begins with a
fast-paced, action-packed, cat-and-mouse spy thriller that
will leave you breathless. Her engaging characters and strong
plotline enhance the spirited dialogue and sense of adventure.”
— RT Book Reviews
“Galen strikes the perfect balance between dangerous
intrigue and sexy romance in her latest deftly crafted
Regency historical.”
— Booklist
“Delightful reading! Shana Galen creates a captivating tale…
the dialogue, charming wit, the intrigues, and the steamy
love scenes make the novel a page-turner.”
— The Long and the Short of It
“Vivid, intense, and had me ensnared from the first line…
Galen’s book had me up until all hours.”
— History Undressed
“Exceptionally entertaining reading with a cast of brilliantly
written characters… Galen’s descriptive writing and
wonderful dialogue makes her novel impossible to set
down… an all around delightful read.”
— Rundpinne
“Intrigue, suspense, and romance wrapped neatly into a
delicious story that will keep the reader going until the very
last page.”
— Affaire de Coeur
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Copyright © 2012 by Shana Galen
Cover and internal design © 2012 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover photo credit line?? (designer to add)
Internal permissions credit lines?? (designer to add)
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of
Sourcebooks, Inc.
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—except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—with-
out permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious
or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Source-
books, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
FAX: (630) 961-2168
www.sourcebooks.com
Printed and bound in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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Copyright © 2012 by Shana Galen
Cover and internal design © 2012 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover photo credit line?? (designer to add)
Internal permissions credit lines?? (designer to add)
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of
Sourcebooks, Inc.
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—except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—with-
out permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious
or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
For mothers, especially my mom, Nancy,
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Source-
and my mother-in-law Cheryl.
books, Inc.
How would I have done it without you?
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
FAX: (630) 961-2168
www.sourcebooks.com
Printed and bound in the United States of America
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One
France, 1802
“That’s him,” Percy whispered. “I’m almost certain
of it.”
Raeven Russell glanced at Percy. There was a
fine sheen of perspiration on his pale, freckled skin,
and his white-blond hair stood up in all directions as
though he’d run a hand through it half a dozen times.
Which he probably had. Percy Williams was purser
for the HMS Regal, and while Raeven knew Percy
adored her, she also knew he abhorred any action that
violated her father’s rules.
She reached over and slung an arm around him in
the jaunty way she had seen men do time and time
again. “You look nervous,” she said under her breath.
“People will wonder why.”
“I am nervous,” he hissed. “You’re going to get
yourself killed.”
“That’s my problem.” She shifted away from him
and scanned the men around her. Which one was
Cutlass? There were several likely candidates.
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Shana Galen
Raeven stood like a man—legs braced apart and
hands on hips—to survey the seedy Brest tavern.
Dockside taverns the world over were the same, she
mused as she studied the crowd. They were filled
with sailors looking for wine and women, ships’
captains hiring additions to their crews, beleaguered
serving girls skirting men’s too-free hands, and whores
working to entice any man with the coin to pay.
She didn’t know why she should feel so at home.
She certainly didn’t belong here and had gone to
considerable trouble to disguise herself as a young man
before sneaking off her father’s ship and onto a cutter
with the crew members going ashore legitimately.
If her father knew she was here… She shook her
head. She could hear his booming voice in her head.
The daughter of a British admiral should behave with more
decorum, in a manner befitting her station in life.
But what was her station in life? Her mother had
died days after her birth, and from the age of four—
when the last of her relatives had given her up as
incorrigible—she’d been sailing with her father. This
certainly wasn’t the first tavern she’d visited. It wasn’t
even the first time she’d sneaked off the HMS Regal.
It was the first time she’d found Captain Cutlass.
After six months of searching for the murdering bastard,
she was about to meet him… face to face.
“It’ll be my neck when your father finds out.”
Percy swallowed audibly, and she suppressed a smile.
“Then you won’t be long in following me to meet
our maker. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
He gave her a horrified look, which she supposed
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The Rogue Pirate’s Bride
3
He cleared his throat. “I prefer a little more time on
this earthly world.”
“I’m in complete agreement. Now, tell me which
one he is again, but don’t look at him or gesture
toward him.”
“Let’s go sit at the bar,” Percy said. “You can see
him better from there, and we’ll be less conspicuous.”
“Fine.” Remembering to play her role, she swag-
gered to the bar and leaned against it, trying to look
belligerent. Percy ordered ale, and she did as well,
though she had no intention of drinking it. She
needed all her wits about her.
When the barkeep moved away, Percy studied his
mug and murmured, “See the man in the far corner?”
Raeven allowed her gaze to roam lazily over the
tavern until she focused on the corner he indicated.
“He’s dressed as a gentleman in a navy coat, white
cravat, buff breeches.”
She saw him now and nodded. “A gentleman
pirate.” She shook her head. “Contradiction in terms.”
“The rumor is he’s a deposed marquis whose family
fled France during the revolution.”
She scowled at him. “Don’t tell me you believe that
rubbish. All the pirates concoct romantic stories. Just
because one claims he’s a duke doesn’t make him any
less of a thief and murderer.”
“Of course I don’t believe it. I’m telling you the
rumor.”
But she could hear in his voice he had believed
the story, and now that she’d set her eyes on Cutlass,
she could see why. The man did have the air of the
aristocrat about him. It wasn’t simply his clothes—any
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4
Shana Galen
man could dress up as one of the quality, but there
was something in Cutlass’s bearing. He was sitting at
a table, his back to the wall, facing the door to the
tavern. That much told her he was no fool. There
was a man seated across from him, and Cutlass was
listening in a leisurely fashion to whatever the man was
saying. Cutlass’s arms were crossed over his chest, and
his expression was one of mild interest. He had a glass
of something on the table before him, but she hadn’t
seen him drink from it. Nor had she seen any whores
approach him.
He was doing business then. It would have better
served her purposes if he’d been drunk and whoring, but
she didn’t have the luxury of choosing when to strike.
Her gaze slid back to Percy. “He’s handsome,” she
remarked and watched the purser’s eyebrows wing
upward. “I hadn’t expected that.”
The reports she’d had of him rarely mentioned his
appearance. Captain Cutlass was known for his stealth,
his agility, and his slippery escapes. It was rumored
he’d boarded over a hundred vessels. That was obvi-
ously exaggeration, but even if his record was a quarter
of that, it was an impressive feat. Of course, he claimed
he was a privateer, and she knew he sailed under the
Spanish flag and with that country’s letters of marque.
She didn’t care for privateers any more than she cared
for pirates, and made little distinction between them.
Neither pirates nor privateers should dare attack ships
of the British Navy. Neither should dare to kill a
British naval officer.
She felt the anger and the blood pump through her
and took a deep, calming breath. She couldn’t afford
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The Rogue Pirate’s Bride
5
to be emotional right now. She had to put emotion
away. And she couldn’t afford a schoolgirl crush on
the man either. Yes, he was handsome. His dark
brown hair brushed back from his forehead and would
have grazed his shoulder if not neatly secured in a
queue. His face was strong with a square jaw, plenty of
angles and planes, and a full mouth that destroyed the
eyes did not lie. There was no softness in the man.
She couldn’t quite see the eye color from this far away,
but under the sardonic arch of his brow his eyes were
sharp, cold, and calculating.
A worthy adversary, and she’d spill his blood tonight.
“I don’t like the look in your eyes,” Percy said.
“Now that you’ve seen him, you can’t possibly mean
to challenge him. He’s not a small man.”
Raeven straightened her shoulders to give herself
more height. She was well aware of her short stature,
but size and strength were not everything. She was
small and quick and deadly. “I do mean to challenge
him,” she said, brushing her hand against the light
sword at her waist. “I’m only waiting until his busi-
ness is completed.” Though if it took much longer,
she would have to interrupt. She wanted this over
and done.
“I don’t think that’s wise. Perhaps if we wait—”
“I’m not waiting,” she snapped. “I’ve waited six
months, and that’s too long.”
“Timothy would not have wanted…”
Her glare cut him off. “Timothy is dead, and his
murderer is sitting over there having a chat and sipping
wine. Timothy would have wanted justice.”
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Shana Galen
And because she knew Percy’s next comment
would be about justice versus vengeance, and because
&nbs
p; she did not want to hear it, she pushed off the bar and
arrowed for Cutlass’s table. It was a short trek across
the tavern but long enough for her heart to pick up
speed and pound painfully in her chest. She tried
to calm herself with a deep breath, but she exhaled
shakily. Her hands were sweating, and she flexed them
to keep them loose.
When she stepped in front of Cutlass’s table, he
glanced up at her briefly and then back at the man seated
across from him. Before she could speak, another man
was beside her.
“Move away, lad. The captain’s busy at present.”
The man was tall and lanky with a shock of red hair and
pale, freckled skin. He was well dressed and spoke to
her in fluent, if accented, French. English, she thought,
and well bred. Probably Cutlass’s quartermaster.
She stood her ground. “I think the captain will
want to hear what I have to say.” She said it to Cutlass,
but he didn’t acknowledge her.
“I’ll tell him you wish to speak with him. In the
meantime…” He made the mistake of taking her arm,
and she responded with a quick jab to his abdomen.
He grunted in surprise and took a step back.
“Problem, Mr. Maine?” Cutlass said smoothly. He
had one brow cocked and a bemused smile on his lips.
Obviously, he didn’t see her as any sort of threat. “Is
the lad giving you trouble?” He also spoke in French,
but his was sweet and thick as honey. A native speaker,
she surmised, and one with a polished accent. No
wonder he played the deposed French marquis.
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The Rogue Pirate’s Bride
7
“No, Captain,” Maine said, stepping forward again.
“I’ll get him out of your way.”
Raeven put a hand on the small dagger at her waist.
“Touch me again, and I’ll slice your hand off.” Her
gaze met Cutlass’s. “I want a word with you.”
“Obviously.” He lifted his wine, sipped. “But
you’ll have to learn some manners first. Come back
when you’ve mastered the art of patience.”
In one lightning-quick move, she drew her dagger,
rounded the table, and pressed it under his jaw. “You
want to talk about patience?” She pressed the blade into
the bronze skin until a small bead of blood welled up.
“I’ve been waiting six long months to slit your throat.”
“Is that all?” he said, setting his glass of wine on the
table. With annoyance, she noted his hand did not even
tremble. “There are some who’ve waited far longer.”