Spice up your days with this HOT Regency romance. Tortured duke reunites with a mysterious lady to search for answers. #RegencyRomance #EroticHistoricalRomance #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Pleasure House Ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats. Love revealed at a courtesan’s ball. Brenton, 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. books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Drama and romance at the duke’s snowbound British country estate. Michael Brandon travels to introduce the woman he loves to family but is shocked when his missing brother arrives. December Scandal Book 3 Scandalous Siblings https://books2read.com/suziloveDS
Excerpt:1844 Martin House, England.
Michael Brandon strolled after Cayle St. Martin, the Duke of Sherwyn, when the duke strode to the hallway to greet the latest group of travelers. They’d be, like him, grateful to accept the duke’s hospitality because they’d all become stranded after heavy snowfalls had led to rapidly rising water levels and an impassable local bridge.
He leaned on a wall and watched Mason, the efficient butler at Martin House, ease open the massive front door while three footmen braced their shoulders against the door to stop it blowing fully open. The house had already been full of family members gathered for Christmas, but with the addition of several groups of half-frozen travelers arriving every hour during the afternoon, the house’s walls must be groaning under the excess number of guests needing beds.
Several massive rooms in Martin House had been opened and warmed for the weary travelers who had descended on the duke and his family, but those large fires needed constant feeding with logs of wood. Therefore, Sherwyn couldn’t risk a barrage of snow and sleet blowing inside his house from the courtyard because, in such inclement weather, his footmen might not be able to collect more firewood for another week. Little wonder then that the duke hovered near the front entrance and supervised each subsequent arrival, his charming duchess by his side to add her won welcome.
Michael and his party had been the first to beg assistance from Sherwyn this afternoon, as he’d known that Sherwyn had left London a week earlier and would already be in residence at his country home. There had been a flurry of social events in London over the past two weeks before the Ton left the city and retreated to their country estates to wait out the colder months. Though this extreme weather had caught everyone by surprise.
It was barely mid December and the nearby bridge usually served the locals well through that month and into the New Year. Water levels normally only rose and covered the bridge after the snowstorms of January. Michael and Cayle were long time friends and so he knew Cayle had loathed this house, his family seat, when his father and stepmother had been in residence, but now that Cayle was the duke, and a married man, he had decided to turn this house into a more welcoming family gathering place. Even with the influx of visitors, invited or not, the staff here were jolly and efficient, a rare combination in the serving ranks.
Richard St. Martin, the Earl of Winchester, explains his requirements for a placid bride while Lady Laura Jamison scoffs at his naivete. Scenting Scandal By Suzi Love Book 2 Scandalous Siblings Series. books2read.com/suziloveSS
EXCERPT
The Earl of Winchester, reiterated, “Your male relations understand my stance on marriage. I abhor marriages based on notions of romantic ideology, and I believe love matches create more unhappiness than joy. My convictions exclude me as a suitable suitor for you and make me the safest choice of escort, especially compared to the fortune hunters and rakes I’ve seen sniffing around your skirts recently.” Under her intense scrutiny, he shifted his feet. “For a woman as passionate and exciting as you, I’d prove very poor husband material.”
He realized how his words might be interpreted when Lady Laura said, “Are you complementing me for my passion? Or lamenting that I’m not the milk-pudding-miss you profess to require as your bride?”
He stiffened. “My countess will not be as bland as you imagine. She’ll be admired by everyone, including me of course, for her competency in running several large households.”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Because sewing and pianoforte and menu-planning and…reciting the bible…. are vital for any woman’s sanity. Mind you, your countess will need some distraction during the long boring months waiting to deliver your heir. And, of course, a possible spare or two. Stitching handkerchiefs may be the most excitement she experiences if her marriage to you is as boring as it sounds. I don’t believe you’re stupid enough to settle for a young girl who completely lacks wit.” Her gaze met his, confronting and demanding. “A chit with whom you’ve nothing in common, malleable enough to bend to your will and willing to be held at an emotional distance.”
He stared straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes. Laura, and this damnable conversation, would strip his long-held convictions regarding marriage from his bones.“It’s the way of our world, Laura. Men of rank list their requirements and choose the wife who best meets their needs. My countess needs to have enough spine to act as my hostess, yet be biddable and undemonstrative.”
“Poor, poor girl. Selected like a horse from Tattersall’s to carry on your breeding program, and then ignored for the remainder of her marriage. No doubt you’ll desert her in favor of your latest mistress.”
“You’ve no right to scoff at my rationale. Not after you’ve terrified every bachelor in London by scribbling notes about them in your little books. Only giving the poor sods a tick of approval if they have a pleasing aroma. You’re selecting your husband the same way I intend finding my wife. By examining their credentials. Your scientific theorizing degrades their worth as men far more than my plans for my countess. At least I’m choosing her for her … ah…gentler traits.”
When she scowled, he clasped a hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion and gave her a wide-eyed look. “Consider your lack of traditional female skills arts as providential. Instead of wasting your time testing me as a potential husband, you can treat me as an older and wiser financial advisor, as well as a loyal sentinel.”
She frowned. “Once again, I can’t decide if I should be insulted or relieved.”
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.”
Why shouldn’t Lady Lillian take the chance of a night’s fun and freedom, hidden from high-society an out of reach of the duke’s continual criticisms? She’d lost enough of her life while married to a man who didn’t deserve either her patience or her fortitude. Starting tonight, she’d take control of herself and rebirth the confident and happy person that only appeared now when she was staying at her father’s country estate.
She’d been excited about this night for weeks and she’d no intention of running away before she’d explored and widened her experience, though only visually. Not even if Brenton threatened to expose her, or worse, visit her father and reveal where she’d been. Stiffening her spine, she took Brenton’s hand and, after muttering a quick apology to her cluster of admirers, led him straight to one of the balcony doors. She didn’t stop until they were in a darkened section of the balcony where no one could overhear their conversation.
She dropped his hand and turned to lean on the veranda rail and stared out at the garden. ‘What are you doing here?’ She spoke without turning to face him, both mortified and terrified that he’d discovered her here.
‘Michael dragged me here.’ He caught her wrist and tugged her around to face him. ‘Who is that woman you are with? Did she bring you here?’ He ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself and dampen down his anger. ‘Of course she brought you here. You wouldn’t have known to come to a place like this otherwise. Did she coerce you in some way?’
Lillian chuckled. ‘Do you truly believe me such an innocent that I don’t know the location of brothels or the estate houses that hold balls where the main guests are ladies of the night? I’m not that naïve, Brent. When I was a married woman, the other married ladies spoke constantly about the state of their marriages. Those conversations included such things as where their husbands, fathers, or brothers went to visit paid women, and what happened in those places.’ She snorted. ‘They’d no idea that my own marriage was so dismal that the only times my husband touched me in bed was those rare occasions when he remembered he was supposed to breed a son and so made an appointment for the next night to visit my bedchamber. Even during those ten dreadful minutes he spent with me, he never thought to explain what happened between a man and a woman, or about how children were conceived. My mother, the duchess, gave me a one sentence explanation on my wedding day of how to act with my husband and the need to create a child, but she unfortunately never gave me the information I needed about what physical intimacy entailed, so the first time my husband lifted the hem of my night dress, I panicked.’
Lady Laura Jamison believes her extraordinary olfactory senses will sniff out her perfect match, but will Richard St. Martin, the Earl of Winchester, prove her theory wrong? Scenting Scandal By Suzi Love Book 2 Scandalous Siblings Series. books2read.com/suziloveSS
EXCERPT
Laura concentrated on restful images. Brooks babbled, birds sang, white fluffy clouds floated. Colorful rainbows arced and…. Nothing, dammit. Her frazzled nerves refused to be soothed. Trying not to alert her aunt, whose over-emotional farewells had already delayed proceedings, Laura tugged on Winchester’s arm. His leather-gloved hand held fast. The Devil take the blasted Earl and his oversized anatomy, his overwhelming maleness and his…
She shivered. Everything overpowering about this man, including his unwanted invasion of her senses, ought to be declared illegal. A ticket tied to each limb reading: Danger. Avoid at all cost.
His cologne’s citrus tang, bergamot with an after-note of lemon, flooded her nose and made her sneeze. Another confirmation that the theory of natural selection being developed by scientists at the Royal Academe was correct. And an extra incentive to elude her keeper, ergot the enigmatic Earl, and pay another visit to her friends, Mr. Charles Darwin and his cousin, both men grandsons of Mr. Erasmus Darwin, famed researcher and theorist.
While she listed to herself the scientific reasons for avoiding the Earl, her herbalist and caring side, or more likely her feminine one, overruled. She reminded herself a few more drops of lemon should be added to the next batch of cologne she blended for Richard. Even as she mentally cursed her siblings for insisting she work closely with Winchester, Laura’s traitorous body responded in a physical way to his presence.
Imagining him, an expert financier, being granted full authority over not merely her ‘Change transactions, but also her daily household accounts, horrified her. Mortification would nail closed her coffin if he compared her scientific skills with those of her extraordinarily talented four siblings and found her wanting. Or, heaven save her, exposed her failures to the world.
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.”
Four Times A Virgin: “Are you suffering some sort of aliment in your abdomen, Your Grace?” #RegencyRomance #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency #HistoricalEroticRomancebooks2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Pleasure House ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB.
Lady Lillian Armstrong’s mind raced, scrabbling for an excuse for being here. Shock held her captive. Her best friend stood behind her and he’d recognized her, despite the pains she and Maggie had taken with their enormous masks and gowns purchased from the dressmaker who designed flamboyant gowns for courtesans. Lord Mallory, Brenton, was the last person she’d expect to meet at a ball for procuring a mistress.
Maggie, her companion and procurer of ball invitations, had assured her that the majority of gentlemen attending tonight would be vetted acquaintances of Lord Browning’s. Gentlemen on the lookout for a new mistress, young men eager to exchange their quarterly allowances for a brief affair with a rising star in courtesan circles, or men with aspirations of wealth who hoped to afford a full time mistress in the next year or two.
Brenton didn’t fit any of those categories, or perhaps she was mistaken and he lived an entirely different life than the one she saw. He’d barely ventured ten miles from his estate in the past five or six years and preferred evenings at home with his daughter to roaming London’s streets with his peers, gambling at clubs, or getting drunk and visiting brothels. She lifted her fan to her face and waved air across her heated cheeks, not wanting her male admirers to notice her distress. Maggie had promised that all conversations and connections were incognito, so Lillian wouldn’t be recognized as the duke’s disgraced daughter, giving her an opportunity to let the repressed side of Lillian to fly free.
The last thing she needed was a serious conversation with Brent, or to have him criticize or interfere in the outrageous night she and her companion had planned. Maggie’s twelve months of wearing depressing black and pretending to grieve for a man who’d been cruel and abusive had almost destroyed her, so she’d urged Lillian to avoid her mistakes. Advised Lillian to avoid spending months in seclusion and under censure from ignorant family members. Urged Lillian to do something rash and abnormal. Something to clear her mind and soul of the stink of her husband’s infidelity, uncontrolled spending, and irrational actions.