By Meredith Duran
"**A new and evocative Regency ancient novel from emerging famous person Meredith Duran, an writer for whom, as *Fresh Fiction* stated, “readers have the desire to make room on their keeper shelf.” **
By candlelight, she lures him…
Glittering courtroom socialites and underworld cutpurses alike understand that Adrian Ferrers, Earl of Rivenham, is the main risky guy in London. Rivenham will allow nothing—not the deepening shadow of conflict, nor the turning out to be darkness inside him—interfere along with his ambition to revive his relatives to its former glory. but if tasked via the king to discover a traitor, he discovers as a substitute a conspiracy—and a girl whose braveness awakens bad temptations. to save lots of her is to probability every little thing. to like her may cost his existence.
At swordpoint she defies him…
Lady Leonora understands that Rivenham is the satan in appealing disguise—and that the impossible to resist stress among them is as unpredictable because the problem during which Nora reveals herself: held hostage on her personal property through Rivenham and the king’s males. but if conflict breaks out, Nora has no selection yet to put her belief in her dearest enemy—and pray that love doesn't turn into the weapon that destroys them both…
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Make that very wealthy. She's had sufficient of leaky roofs and thread-worn garments.
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So what merciless accident positioned her in a carriage on her technique to Scotland with simply that impoverished earl and the entire global considering they're guy and spouse? napping within the comparable mattress? let alone the sport of phrases all started via the earl—in which the prize is a kiss. And the forfeit . . .
Well. They *are* virtually married, after all!
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Additional info for At Your Pleasure
He sneered loudly, causing the nearby card players to glance up in interest. "Hardly that, since I know nothing about you to laugh at," Lucien replied indifferently. Sir Frederick's mouth curled into a sneer as he leaned forward, and jabbing a finger on the Duke's wide chest said, "No, you do yours behind a fellow's back. " "It would be a waste of my time since you seem to be doing that yourself," Lucien replied coldly. "Why, you! I'll—" Sir Frederick began heatedly, his face a dull red. "Now, now," Sir Jeremy interrupted, a placating note in his voice.
Lucien nodded reluctantly. " He paused delicately, waiting to be enlightened. " "Of course," the Duke sighed, "I'll escort you to the nearest inn, where you may hire conveyance to London. " Lord Wrainton jumped down from the side of the coach, splattering his pumps as he did so and nearly slipping in the slick mud as he regained his balance. He was a middle-aged man in his forties, slight of build, and almost too handsome to be masculine, with his thickly lashed, violet eyes. "Luciana," Lord Wrainton called to his wife.
Ah, Lady Mary," Lord Malton greeted her loudly, nodding to Sabrina and Richard as he bent over Mary's outstretched hand. " "Our pleasure, surely," Sabrina murmured softly, smiling sweetly as she caught his eye. " "If I might be allowed to add my compliments also," Lord Newley added suavely, looking directly into Sabrina's violet eyes. " "Certainly. Of course we understand that without a man to act as escort, and only your aunt to chaperone you, it is most difficult for you to get about. " he asked hesitantly, looking around the room nervously in expectation of being surprised by her sudden appearance.