Carina, Countess of Dorchester, glanced out at the square for the twentieth time and clutched the window casing for support when she saw that striding along the pavement towards her house was an exceedingly tall man, dressed in up-to-the minute fashion and wreathed in an aura of power and control. The Duke of Stirkton cut such a superior figure that men stepped aside and women turned to stare as he passed them on the footpath. The fact that he was oblivious to their attention and admiration made him more interesting, and for the first time in many years, Carina felt a glimmer of hope.
“Oh, Gertie, yes, yes,” she said, clapping her hands and spinning in a giddy circle before the window. “I think Georgie’s way out is about to present itself, and sooner than we thought.”
Gertie joined her at the window but groaned aloud. “Oh, no, no, no, Carina! Not him. The Duke of Stirkton is not the best person to help us introduce the girls to gentlemen.”
“Why not? He may not be a perfect solution but, with his influence in society, he may provide our best way forward.”
“You were only going to ask to see his grandfather’s papers. Look at whatever the Duke may have already found, whether it’s letters, directions, or anything else to help us work out the names and locations of those two men.”
As the Duke of Stirkton, Max was well accustomed to being watched. Young pups copied his dress style. Toad-eaters mimicked his behavior in futile attempts to ingratiate themselves into his life. Conservative groups applauded his somber public behavior, while cartoonists ridiculed his straight-laced demeanor and suggested he take a mistress. Or two.
Whichever way people viewed him, no one had dared ridicule him to his face. Until this evening. The Countess had side-stepped his butler and marched into his drawing room as if an unannounced call upon an unmarried duke was something she did regularly. Max had informed her, in great detail, of the extensive search he and his cousin had undertaken to locate her and the other women. She’d huffed and rolled her eyes.
Normally, his month-about- mistresses gleefully accepted his proposal because sharing a duke’s bed for a month would set them up for the rest of their lives. Apart from the financial benefits, he was a generous lover. One benefit of his abnormal upbringing had been an early and full education into what women wanted in a bed partner. Until the Countess had laughed at him, he’d never had reason to doubt his sexual prowess. In the brief time she’d been in his house, she’d challenged several of his beliefs.
“It’s the ideal solution.” And something he needed. “I will help you search my grandfather’s boxes by day and, in exchange, you’ll make yourself available to me in the evenings.” Max waited, unsure what to expect. An odd situation for a man who prided himself on reading adversaries as easily as he tallied the accounts. books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Max shuddered at Carina’s passion-hazed command to make love to her, self-doubts rose like a thunder cloud. “Love making between us is impossible.” As soon as he’d spat out the harsh words, he regretted them. She pulled back. “Forgive me, but we cannot forget who we are and where we are. Let’s not delude ourselves, or lie to each other.”
She stared with unblinking, moisture-filled eyes, and that blasted pain shot straight through to his gut and caused a raw burn. She stopped his absent-minded rubs at his midriff. “Are you suffering some sort of aliment in your abdomen?”
He bristled. “Of course not. I enjoy perfect health.”
She lifted a brow. “Your veins may run with the bluest blood, but your human form suffers from the same frailties as the rest of us lower mortals. I’ve noticed that you rub your stomach quite often. Perhaps you should consult a physician.”
“Ridiculous charlatans. I’ll not listen to another swindler promising to cure a simple digestive disorder by bleeding me dry with leeches.”
She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Max. You’ve already visited physicians.”
“It’s nothing.”
Tortured duke reunites with a mysterious lady to search for answers from their intertwined pasts and expose those who orchestrated the evil that scarred them both. She’ll do anything to protect her younger sisters and he’s desperate to make amends.
books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Sunday Snippet: “Are you suffering some sort of aliment in your abdomen, Your Grace?” #SundaySnippet #RegencyRomance #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency #HistoricalEroticRomance https://books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Sunday Snippet: The Duke of Stirkton stared, open-mouthed, at the countess. “You’re a cool one.” #RegencyRomance #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency #EroticHistoricalRomance https://books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Lady Rebecca Jamison ticked off numbers on the fingers of one revolting brown glove. “First, I’m not a thief. Second, I’m not a courtesan needing coin. Third, I’ve never been your mistress.” She looked down at her maid’s drab clothes, shuddered. “And if the women you’re taking to your bed dress this shabbily, I suggest you raise your standards.”
The Duke of Sherwyn drew several shuddering breaths. “Correct, on all counts. Now, appease my burning curiosity. What deception did you employ to hoodwink my servant?”
One shoulder lifted in the semblance of a shrug. “Oh, that! A child’s ploy. I laid coins on the fourth step and paid a street urchin to knock on your door and then run. When your gatekeeper bent to retrieve the coins, I slipped around the door and inside.”
Incredulity, then infuriation, surrendered to mirth. The simplicity of her ruse, alongside her detached style of recounting her deception, startled him into a snort of amusement.
“Huh! My ever-vigilant butler diverted by the sight of a few pennies.”
“Oh, no, not mere pennies. Gleaming new gold coins. Rest easy. Your servant’s momentary distraction cost me a high price.”
He lifted his hand to hide his smirk. Since he’d become Sherwyn, Jenner’s behavior vacillated between extreme formality due a duke or nose-lifting disdain owed to the family’s black sheep. This chink in Jenner’s polished armor pleased him.
He dipped his head, and said, “I bow to your finesse as a trickster. Now for my next pressing question. Why are you here?”
“I need your assistance.”
He grinned. “Ah, so once again your white knight is being asked to draw an imaginary sword and defend your ladyship’s honor.”
She groaned. “If only things were still as uncomplicated as in our childhood games.”
“As the Duke of Sherwyn, you’ve entree into the best houses and social events.”
After a scowl towards the ceiling, he muttered, “Thanks to my stepmother, I’m forced into it. But what does my recent social popularity have to do with your current predicament?”
“In daylight, with other ladies, I can stroll about the streets. Visit shops, sometimes slip unnoticed into the twice-weekly stock auctions at the Hall of Commerce in Threadneedle Street. And I’ve already searched the desks of many of the mere misters and lesser peers of the lower orders of the consortium, as their houses aren’t guarded like fortresses.”
“Do you mean to say you entered these men’s homes and rifled their papers?”
“Well yes, but–”
“Are you mad?”
“I risked little, because those sort of houses cannot afford a footman guarding every passageway. Especially not on occasions such as those I attended, where every footman is needed to fetch drinks for belligerent guests. Slipping into those libraries was child’s play.” She sighed. “What I cannot do is visit the homes of the highest ranking peers to scour their correspondence for any that bears the special seal of the consortium. Nor secure enough privacy to copy any incriminating letters I may find. Someone always hovers, and watches, at those type of houses.”
He paced before her like a restless panther, an angry scowl pulling his face taut. His fine looks had always turned heads, but this brooding beast carried a lethal combination of strength and menacing masculinity. She shivered. His newly acquired arrogance of bearing enhanced, rather than detracted from, his magnetism, although this time, she knew to avoid his magnetic pull.
“You intend searching the houses of every peer in the city who is making money from stock shares?”
“No, no, not all of them. We’ve done a lot of research–”
“We?”
“My family have become quite adept at research. We’ve narrowed our search to gentlemen known to invest in railway expansions in a large way. Our final list is of those we consider to be involved in the inner, and most secret, tier of the syndicate. It contains eighteen names, the majority of whom are high-ranking peers.
“Bloody hell, Becca.” He ground the expletive out through clenched teeth. “You’re out of your depth. I’ve been involved in similar commercial groups. They’ll stop at nothing for the sake of money.”
“Nevertheless, we need certain details you may overhear at clubs about certain gentlemen having sudden windfalls. Or things gleaned at certain balls and soirees.
“Unbelievable.” Both hands went up in the air. “That’s certainly as clear as muddy water.”
“Clear or not, I’m asking you to trust me. To help me.”
She held out both hands, palms up, and hoped he wouldn’t notice their tremors. “With your assistance, I can verify more names. Collect proof of each one’s involvement and hand it over to Scotland Yard. Time is of the essence, as we’ve now less than two weeks.”
She watched him absorb, assess, decide. In under a minute, he guided her to his desk and seated her before it.
“Make a start. List the names of every man you suspect to be a member.” He placed writing materials before her. “Then list those you consider inner tier, and include their ranking.”
“Two nights ago,” Lady Rebecca Jamison said, “the woman we engaged at the Women’s Betterment Society to tally the Stock Exchange ledgers — our friend — was murdered. The killer was still inside Peggy’s house when I arrived. Her slayer stopped at the back door and stared directly at me, memorizing my features.”
Her pronouncement was flat-voiced, deadly calm.
“Thankfully, his immediate concern was escaping with our two accounting books. But when the cache identifies me as the woman who saw their lackey’s face, I am certain they will send him to dispose of me as well. They are peers, titled and wealthy, and cannot risk being exposed as members of an illegal group. If we cannot stop these men, brutes who employ cold-blooded assassins to do their dirty work, I will certainly be the next to die.”
The Duke of Sherwyn’s chilled blood turned to ice.
Embracing Scandal (Scandalous Siblings) by Suzi Love. Lady Rebecca Jamison saves her family from financial ruin by investing in railways, but when a greedy syndicate murders her friend, Becca is forced to beg assistance from Cayle St. Martin, the new Duke of Sherwyn. https://books2read.com/suziloveES
The finger prodded her chest again. Gently yet insistently. But his voice softened. “And I, the man, and the duke, choose you. You, Lady Rebecca. Do you think I can’t decide for myself, for my family, for you and me, what’s best?”
“But that’s what I’ve always done. It’s always been up to me to work out the best plan for everyone and then make it happen.” “In the past, that’s what happened.”
“But even now, it’s up to me to keep everyone safe. You said yourself that neither my family, nor the society, could go on without my making these types of decisions. I’m always the one with the clear head. In time, you’ll see that I’m right to walk away from you when this is finished.”
“No, no. This isn’t finished by a long shot, sweetheart. There has to be some consolation in my life for taking on control of Julia and my brothers, for assuming the family titles and topping up our coffers.”
“I know how hard you’re working to succeed. But it’ll never work if you have someone like me in your life.” “I don’t want someone like you, Becca. I want you.” This time his kiss was tinged with desperation. “Answer me one thing.” Her eyes widened. “Do you love me, minx? Do I still hold your heart?”
“Stop! It’s unfair to ask me that. Leave, please, just leave.” Turning away, Becca wished him gone before he glimpsed the fat tears collecting in her eyes. It was crucial that she remain strong. Even if it broke her heart to do so.As he reached the door, Becca heard Cayle mutter, “I will have you, Rebecca Jamison. I will not stop until I find a way.” She didn’t know whether it made her happy, or if it simply terrified her.
Richard, Earl of Winchester, groaned. Heaven save him, for lust had addled his wits. Contrarily, if he’d read similar thoughts on the face of any drooling young pup, he’d have leapt across the pews and planted him a facer. Embarrassed himself, and Lady Laura Jamison, with his possessiveness. The gossips would squeal with delight to see him break his own rules and behave like an obsessed suitor.
Far better that onlookers saw the relationship between him and Laura as sparring siblings because, in private, his indifference was becoming harder and harder to maintain. More so, when Laura studied him surreptitiously, or so she thought, and compared him to other men. When she recorded his suitability as her mate as part of her quest to ensure the survival of the human species. Blast the woman and her speculating eyes, because no matter how sexually innocent her assessments of his anatomy might be, his body leapt to readiness faster than any seasoned street walker lifted her skirts.
And damn his randy thoughts for creating so many pictures of them cavorting in his bed. In that arena, if nowhere else, he was certain their passionate natures would prove a perfect match. He clenched his fist at the thought of giving up something else. The intelligent and strong children their couplings would produce. Because if he had Laura’s body under him once, he’d be old and wizened before he tired of her.
