Dear Reader,
Lady P, bringing you the latest on dits from the upper circles of the ton. There are times when the content I must share pains me to do so, but it is for the greater good. Those who are eager to read my news know that I always repeat what I hear. After all, I do have the ear of certain esteemed personages including a well-loved viscountess, who for propriety’s sake, I shall refer to as Lady R.
I was in attendance at the Andrew’s Ball the other night—quite a crush—and happened to overhear Lady R speaking to Lady L, a mutual acquaintance. I was leaning perilously close to a tall potted plant at the time, seeking shelter from an unwanted suitor. I heard Lady R mention a conversation, the names of those involved intentionally not stated. It had to do with Lord H boasting about the wager he entered in White’s betting book.
I must repeat what Lady R said, not just for the sake of sharing it, but for the sake of those who may have at one time or another found themselves in a compromising situation not of their own making. We have all heard tearful tales of a friend—or servant—and a foxed gentleman with an overabundance of physical needs that he cannot control. And yet, when called to the carpet, the not-so-much of a gentleman oftentimes does not recall the moment, nor remember the poor young woman he has ruined!
Sharing such salacious news is bound to cause a scandalbroth, but I must tell the rest of what I have heard, word for word. “Lord H’s wager in White’s book insists it is fact—not rumor.” Peering through the leaves and branches, I saw Lady R pause and put her hand to her bosom. With a tremor in her voice, she confided, “Lord H wrote that he has verified the existence of the Angel of the Streets and has uncovered her true identity!”
I blinked at hearing this news, and had to ease back into the corner when Lord R strode over to his wife, whisked her into his arms, and onto the dance floor. What a striking pair they make. It does my heart good to know that I had a hand in bringing them together with my excellent intuition. Knowing which rumors surrounding the couple were credible, and which were said with an eye toward casting doubt on the lady’s reputation. Oh, and need I mention that Lady L’s husband is acquainted with a certain inspector on Bow Street, and related to someone in the highest echelon of the ton, though not royal?
Fear not, dear reader, for I shall be certain to share further news on this subject with the editor of this unimpeachable daily source of information.
The Duke’s Man-At-Arms (The Duke’s Guard, Book 11)
By C.H. Admirand
Emmett O’Malley will move Heaven and Earth to find and punish the man who kidnapped Michaela.
O’Malley plans to take justice into his own hands. He suspects there is more than compassion and the need to heal that compels the woman he has come to love to rescue others who have been unwilling victims. He will extract more than a bloody pound of flesh from the lord responsible for taking what Michaela refused to give.
Working alongside the angel of the streets has opened O’Malley’s eyes and his heart to someone who shares the same need to heal others. They both believe that every life has worth and everyone deserves a second chance…until Michaela is abducted, and he suspects she is hiding something from him.
A decade is a long time to keep a secret… Michaela will take hers to the grave!
Her life changes forever the night the man her father approved of violates her. To her horror, Michaela glimpses the monster he is a heartbeat before he steals her virtue, destroys her hopes, and crushes her dreams.
She vows never to speak his name again, nor tell a soul what he has done. She discovers an inner strength and calling to help heal others the only way she can, by leading a double life. On the surface she is the reserved daughter of a well-known physician. Beneath is a woman who works tirelessly in the stews of London, doing all in her power to heal and help those society shuns—other women who have had their future, good name, and reputation stripped from them without their consent. She will not let them be broken!
Excerpt:
“Michaela, are ye hurt?”
“O’Malley, is it really you?” The shaky reply was music to his ears,
“Aye! Step away from the door, lass. I need to break it down.”
“I… I’m not near the door.”
He grunted in reply. “Now’s not the time to get yer gumption up and argue. Step back—”
“I can’t move. I’m sorry, Emmett,” her voice broke over her apology. “I would if I could.”
“How close are ye to the door?”
“A few feet away.”
“Are ye in the middle of the room?”
“Nay to the left of the door…your right.”
That told him the direction he needed to hit to ensure shards of the door would be directed away from her. “Cover yer head, lass!”
“I can’t.”
Someone tied her up! “I’ll kill the bloody bugger! Close yer eyes, in case the door splinters.”
“They’re closed.”
“Don’t open them until I tell ye, Michaela.” O’Malley took two steps back and rammed the door with his shoulder. The lock held, but the middle of the door broke apart. His heart cried out at the sight before him. Rushing to Michaela, he knelt by her side and realized the odd sound he’d heard was her teeth chattering. “Open yer eyes, darling lass. Tell me where ye’re hurt.”
Dark lashes fluttered open, revealing pain-filled, pale green eyes. “The back of my head aches… I think someone struck me from behind. How did you find me? Where is Greenwood?”
“One thing at a time. I’m going to untie ye and wrap ye in me coat, ye’re chilled to the bone. ‘Twas yer chatting teeth that led me to ye.”
He watched her gather her composure around her like a cloak. Brave, lass.
“I wouldn’t have clenched my jaw for so long, trying to be quiet, if I knew you were coming.”
“Ye know I would always come if ye needed me.”
Her eyes held the soul deep conviction he hoped to see. “Yes. It gave me strength when mine was fading.”
Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Dukes-Man-At-Arms-Guard-Book-11-ebook/dp/B0DLQY98JM
Author Bio:
If we have not met yet, I’m delighted to meet you. Here’s a little bit about me…
I have been writing romance novels for almost half my life—well, at least for the last thirty years. I’m a die-hard romantic and have to confess the broad shoulders and wicked glint in the brilliant green eyes of a stranger had my breath snagging in my breast, my heart beating madly, and my future flashing before my eyes. At the age of seventeen, I’d met the man I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
I write Historical & Contemporary Romance featuring characters that I know so well: hardheaded heroes and feisty heroines! They rarely listen to me and in fact, I think they enjoy messing with my plans for them. Over the years I have learned to listen to them. I have always used family names in my books and love adding bits and pieces of my ancestors and ancestry in them, too! Visit my website to learn more about my books.
C.H.’s Social Media Links:
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Betsy Carmichael, recently dismissed from one of London’s most prestigious addresses wrung her hands and bit her lip.
Belinda Westcott doesn’t want to injure the Earl of Ridgemont. She merely wants to humiliate him. After all, one good prank deserves a payback. How could she anticipate that it would go so terribly wrong, or that he would turn out to be nothing like she expected?
Jessica Lady Colyton has no intention of being a wicked widow and no time for rogues. Her father and her brothers were rogues enough for a lifetime. However, she has joined the Wicked Widow’s League, seeking help after her husband’s will proves to be just one more blow from another controlling and manipulative man. When her new friends organize a holiday in a country cottage for her, she blesses them—right up until she finds a naked rogue in her bed.
The Scent of Intuition