Chelsea Wives

Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 44 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 45 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 46 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 47 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 48 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 49 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 50 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 51 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 52 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 53 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 54 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 55 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 56 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 57 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 58 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 59 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 60 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 61 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 62 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 63 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 64 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 65 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 66 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 67 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

An interview with Anna-Lou Weatherley (#litres_trial_promo)

Anna-Lou’s Guide to the King’s Road (#litres_trial_promo)

Author Note (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Our Three Heroines

Imogen Forbes

Ah, the beautiful, effortlessly chic and smart ex-model who looks like she’s stepped straight out of the pages of Vogue and who once had the fashion world at her Louboutin-clad feet. Imogen’s bright light has been hidden under a bushel for too long thanks to her jealous, possessive, control-freak of a husband, Sebastian who’s hell bent on keeping her all to himself – and firmly out of the spotlight at any cost.

When she discovers her husband’s cruel skulduggery has scuppered her chances of a successful career comeback however, Imogen takes matters into her own hands and with the unwitting help of her friends, Calvary Rothschild and Yasmin-Belmont Jones, plots her cunning revenge against the despotic, power-crazed man she regrets ever marrying.

Only it’s not just her malicious husband she has to worry about; her past is creeping up on her too, namely in the form of a man she once loved. A man she has never stopped loving…

Calvary Rothschild

Rampant social climber and fashion maven extraordinaire, ex-fashion magazine editor Calvary is a stylish aristocrat desperate to keep up appearances - whatever the cost. Thanks to her adulterous, philandering husband Douglas, who can’t seem to keep it in his trousers however, it’s proving to be a little tricky.

Having spent years turning a blind eye his latest, most sordid affair is the final straw and this time she vows to take action. Only divorcing him would mean losing all her vast privileges as a society wife, something Calvary can’t even begin to reconcile herself with.

Desperate and unhappy, relief comes in the form of an unlikely admirer and when presented with the chance to play her part in her friend’s bid for revenge, Calvary seizes the opportunity to stich her own husband up in the process. But can she get her own back on a man who has spent years humiliating her without losing it all, or will Douglas have the last laugh?

Yasmin Belmont-Jones

The young, brash and surgically enhanced wife of the bloated, unsavoury old Lord Belmont, Yasmin Jones, a paparazzi’s dream, may be sailing dangerously close to WAG territory and ostracised by the London society set for being nouveau riche but frankly she couldn’t give a damn – she has all the designer clothes, bags, and champagne a girl could wish.

Besides, it’s not Belmont’s money she’s really interested in. A dark, sinister secret and need for revenge has brought her into the Chelsea fold and Belmont’s bed – and now it’s pay-back time. It soon becomes apparent to the gossip mongers of SW3 that there’s more to Yasmin Belmont-Jones than just a gold-digger in a designer dress – much more….

PROLOGUE

Detective Inspector Mitch McLaren glanced around the magnificent library, casually perusing the literature that was neatly stacked inside the antique wooden bookcases. The fact that he had been kept waiting seemed to irk him more than usual, so much so that he had helped himself to a cheeky nip of cognac from a decanter on the sideboard. Something told him he was going to need it.