Brenton, Lord Mallery, sniffed again. Shook his head in denial. Ridiculous to imagine Lillian, his Lillian, was the wearer of that country orchard scent. Or to picture her here, at a pleasure house ball. Bloody hell, perhaps his family’s worst fears had become a reality and he’d morphed from a recluse into a madman.
His cousin, Michael, stared at him and snorted. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
Brent shook his head again. ‘Must be imagining things. I know only one person who wears that perfume and she mixes it herself, her own blend of citrus fruits. That woman is a lady and a duke’s daughter and certainly wouldn’t be attending a courtesan’s ball.’
“I remember who you are, Lady Melton,” Captain Belling said in a cold voice, barely glancing over his shoulder at them. “The only thing I don’t know is why the hell you and that child are still anywhere near Waterloo, when all women were ordered to evacuate a week ago.”
“That child has a name, Captain. His name is Daniel, or if you are a stickler for formality, Viscount Melton.”The captain turned and frowned down at her son, who stared back at him with blatant curiosity and a small amount of animosity, as forthright as any young and intelligent child. Even at his young age, Daniel was a shrewd judge of character, and had been instructed by his uncles to be careful about trusting strangers. When the Captain turned back to the tattered maps spread over his makeshift desk, Anne ignored his unspoken dismissal and used the time to observe the infuriating man without having his condemning gaze fixed on her, as it had been a week earlier at the Duke and Duchess of Richmond’s extravagant Brussels ball. If she and Daniel were to travel with his group of wounded soldiers, Anne wanted to learn as much as possible about their leader. Her son’s survival depended on her being well informed and prepared for any eventuality.
Dust filtered down through a gaping hole in the high roof and settled in the Captain’s hair, turning it a darker brown than his normal golden yellow, though a bucketful of dust wouldn’t make any difference to the state of his stained uniform. His left pants’ leg had been sliced open to the knee, the two sides pinned clear of the large bandage winding down most of his leg, while a spindly wooden crutch was propped against the table.
His large physique had attracted her even before their dance at the ball, though his striking physical attributes didn’t compensate for his belligerent attitude, or for his obvious displeasure at encountering her both in Brussels and near the battlefield. Still, the Captain had undoubtedly scowled in a similar fashion at many women he’d met either in Brussels or at Waterloo, as she’d heard him spout his narrow-minded view at the ball to his fellow officers. The Captain believed that in the vicinity of battles only men should be allowed. Not women, and especially not ladies.
Leaning in, Lord Mallory whispered in Lady Lillian’s ear. “Well, well. I certainly didn’t expect to find you in attendance at a scandalous ball.”
1820 Blackstone House, Twenty miles south of London. Brenton, Earl Mallory, secreted himself behind a life-sized statue of a naked man. Hiding from the two hundred guests spilling through the rooms Lord Browning had opened for the Pleasure House Ball. Clearly he’d suffered a moment of insanity when he’d yielded to his friend’s pleas to accompany him to this ball. ‘For God’s sake, Michael, why are we wasting our time here? I’ve no intention of engaging a mistress and….’
Brent shook his head. ‘Must be imagining things. I know only one person who wears that perfume and she mixes it herself. That woman is a lady and a duke’s daughter and certainly wouldn’t be attending a courtesan’s ball.’
‘Good God! You don’t mean−’
Pleasure House ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB. Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughters.
The Viscount’s Pleasure House. Irresistible Aristocrats Book 1 By Suzi Love. Three naive country ladies coerce their way into London’s most infamous brothel and the last Sultan’s gala. Disenchanted Viscount tutoring three Regency Ladies. What could go wrong?
The Viscount’s Pleasure House allows Justin, the most notorious Viscount in London, to fund his search for his missing mother and sisters. But after three years catering to the sordid whims of the perpetually bored Upper Ten Thousand in early Victorian times, the Virile Viscount announces his retirement.
Justin plans to sell his exotically themed brothel and cease all Arabian Nights held on his estate, a desperate attempt to cleanse his blackened soul and perhaps revive his deadened sexual interest. So when Lady Chrissie Wellsby begs Justin to tutor her two friends in the amorous arts in exchange for information about his family, Justin is torn. For though he’ll do anything to discover the whereabouts of his family, including teaching three naive ladies how to act like well-schooled courtesans, he loathes being forced into this last performance as a sex God served by his harem.
Having Chrissie willingly act as his sex slave stirs the world-weary viscount into the wildest performance ever given at the Sultan’s tent, but does little to convince Chrissie that he has fallen head over heels in love with her and put his rakish ways behind him. Justin enjoys a wonderful reunion with his family but feels cheated of his chance at love until Chrissie’s friends encourage her to trust the newly reformed viscount.
Chrissie organizes one final gala at the Pleasure House, an erotic night of lovemaking for two to prove her love for Justin and show him she longs to be his wife. https://books2read.com/suziloveTVPH The Viscount’s Pleasure House. Irresistible Aristocrats Book 1 By Suzi Love.
Want a HOT historical romance for the holidays? Disenchanted Viscount tutoring three naive ladies in seduction. What could go wrong? #christmas #holidays #RegencyRomance #EroticRomance #HistoricalMystery https://books2read.com/suziloveTVPH
Want a HOT Regency Romance for the holidays? “You want me to be your mistress?” The Countess of Dorchester’s sculpted brow rose in an exaggerated show of disbelief. #christmas #holidays #RegencyRomance #HistoricalMystery #EroticHistoricalRomance books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
“Mama, why doesn’t that man like me?” Daniel asked, his singsong voice echoing loudly around the walled chamber.
Slowly, the Captain turned to face them. He took two steps closer to Daniel and squatted as low as he could manage on one leg, while keeping his bandaged leg straight and using it for balance. “I apologize, your lordship.” He spoke directly to Daniel. “My name is Gabe, and I don’t dislike you. In fact, you remind me of my three nephews and I like them. A lot.” He sighed. “I have several decisions to make, difficult decisions, but that isn’t an excuse for bad manners.” He glanced up at Anne. “As I’m certain your mother has told you.”
Daniel nodded. “Uncle Bren told me to be good for Mama, and you, ‘cause you’re the Captain and you’re taking me and Mama to En…En…” He tugged on her hand. “Where are we going, Mama?”
Anne smiled at her son. “England, darling. We’re going to England.”
Daniel pulled his hand from hers and stepped up to the Captain, careful to avoid his bandaged leg. His tiny hand rested on Gabe’s shoulder and he patted him. “My mama will help. Mama knows ‘bout Englin, and she makes sores better.” He pointed at Gabe’s outstretched leg. “Kisses make it better.”
Anne gasped, while Gabe chuckled. His amber eyes held a twinkle as he spoke to Daniel. “I’m sure your mama’s kisses would make any man feel better.” He looked up at her and smirked. “Will you kiss me, Lady Melton?”
Anne groaned and put her hands to her burning cheeks, thankful that Daniel’s focus was on his new friend and not her red face. When Gabe stood and slowly drew his bandaged leg under him, Anne realized that he didn’t have his crutch.
“Captain, please, lean on me.” She moved closer and was relieved when, with a muffled groan, he slid his arm around her shoulder and settled a little of his weight on her.
I love Pinterest for keeping thousands of historical images in some sort of order.And I love using Pinterest Boards as inspiration for my romance books.What about you? Do you use Pinterest for planning something, or just for fun?Need more hints for what to do with your boards and pins? Take a look at these fascinating articles on Pinterest. if you want even more Pinterest information and tips for becoming a power user, check out my Suzi Love Pinterest Boards
“I remember who you are, Lady Melton,” Captain Belling said in a cold voice, barely glancing over his shoulder at them. “The only thing I don’t know is why the hell you and that child are still anywhere near Waterloo, when all women were ordered to evacuate a week ago.”
“That child has a name, Captain. His name is Daniel, or if you are a stickler for formality, Viscount Melton.”The captain turned and frowned down at her son, who stared back at him with blatant curiosity and a small amount of animosity, as forthright as any young and intelligent child. Even at his young age, Daniel was a shrewd judge of character, and had been instructed by his uncles to be careful about trusting strangers. When the Captain turned back to the tattered maps spread over his makeshift desk, Anne ignored his unspoken dismissal and used the time to observe the infuriating man without having his condemning gaze fixed on her, as it had been a week earlier at the Duke and Duchess of Richmond’s extravagant Brussels ball. If she and Daniel were to travel with his group of wounded soldiers, Anne wanted to learn as much as possible about their leader. Her son’s survival depended on her being well informed and prepared for any eventuality.
Dust filtered down through a gaping hole in the high roof and settled in the Captain’s hair, turning it a darker brown than his normal golden yellow, though a bucketful of dust wouldn’t make any difference to the state of his stained uniform. His left pants’ leg had been sliced open to the knee, the two sides pinned clear of the large bandage winding down most of his leg, while a spindly wooden crutch was propped against the table.
His large physique had attracted her even before their dance at the ball, though his striking physical attributes didn’t compensate for his belligerent attitude, or for his obvious displeasure at encountering her both in Brussels and near the battlefield. Still, the Captain had undoubtedly scowled in a similar fashion at many women he’d met either in Brussels or at Waterloo, as she’d heard him spout his narrow-minded view at the ball to his fellow officers. The Captain believed that in the vicinity of battles only men should be allowed. Not women, and especially not ladies.
“I remember who you are, Lady Melton,” Captain Belling said in a cold voice, barely glancing over his shoulder at them. “The only thing I don’t know is why the hell you and that child are still anywhere near Waterloo, when all women were ordered to evacuate a week ago.”
“That child has a name, Captain. His name is Daniel, or if you are a stickler for formality, Viscount Melton.”The captain turned and frowned down at her son, who stared back at him with blatant curiosity and a small amount of animosity, as forthright as any young and intelligent child. Even at his young age, Daniel was a shrewd judge of character, and had been instructed by his uncles to be careful about trusting strangers. When the Captain turned back to the tattered maps spread over his makeshift desk, Anne ignored his unspoken dismissal and used the time to observe the infuriating man without having his condemning gaze fixed on her, as it had been a week earlier at the Duke and Duchess of Richmond’s extravagant Brussels ball. If she and Daniel were to travel with his group of wounded soldiers, Anne wanted to learn as much as possible about their leader. Her son’s survival depended on her being well informed and prepared for any eventuality.
Dust filtered down through a gaping hole in the high roof and settled in the Captain’s hair, turning it a darker brown than his normal golden yellow, though a bucketful of dust wouldn’t make any difference to the state of his stained uniform. His left pants’ leg had been sliced open to the knee, the two sides pinned clear of the large bandage winding down most of his leg, while a spindly wooden crutch was propped against the table.
His large physique had attracted her even before their dance at the ball, though his striking physical attributes didn’t compensate for his belligerent attitude, or for his obvious displeasure at encountering her both in Brussels and near the battlefield. Still, the Captain had undoubtedly scowled in a similar fashion at many women he’d met either in Brussels or at Waterloo, as she’d heard him spout his narrow-minded view at the ball to his fellow officers. The Captain believed that in the vicinity of battles only men should be allowed. Not women, and especially not ladies.
