She’s the other sister…
Overshadowed by the beauty of her older sister, Lillian is better
known as the other Tisdale; unremarkable and unsure how she will ever deliver
on the promise of her family's name.
He’s a rake in need of reforming…
Will Colton leads a frivolous existence, embracing notoriety
instead of managing his family’s fortune. Determined to forget his financial
burden and his father’s growing resentment, he maintains a lifestyle dedicated
to pleasure and self-indulgence. When Will is invited to the Tisdale estate for
an extended holiday, he never expects to become friends with the forgettable
Lillian. But when a family secret comes to light, he must choose between leaving
London and protecting the honor of one woman or staying and risking the
reputation of another.
Upon his return, Will finds the girl he left behind has come out
of the shadows and into her own. Lillian’s finally the center of attention, and
not all of it good. With his own reputation in tatters, can a reformed rake
lure her out of the hands of London's bachelors and back into his own arms? Can
he escape his past and reclaim her heart, or has he lost her forever?
He didn’t try and crawl out of the hole he’d so
easily dug for himself. Rather, instead of making an already awkward situation
worse, he smiled. It was a cavalier sort of smile—one that she just knew he’d
used hundreds of times before to get him out of this sort of trouble. Women
were undoubtedly willing to forgive him most transgressions just by a flash of
this winning grin.
Lord knew she was.
She’d never before met anyone so handsome, so
charming, so…
A bolt of pain shot up her arm, as if God himself
was punishing her for having such immoral thoughts.
“Enough,” he said. “We need to get you in front of
a doctor. The sooner, the better.”
“Good idea,” she agreed. “How do you suggest we go
about doing that?”
“First, we’ll need to secure your arm.”
She nodded. “You mean fashion a sling? I’m sure
there’s something around here that we could use as rope. Perhaps ivy? There’s a
great deal of it about the estate.”
His hand flew up to his chest. “What do you take me
for, some sort of bushman? For heaven’s sake, I’m from Grosvenor Square, not
some jungle. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how to go about
accomplishing something like that.”
Lilly bit her lip. She’d never make it being
jostled about without something to steady her arm. “Did you have something else
in mind, then?”
Mr. Colton started removing his jacket. “I thought
I’d use my shirt. I’ll rip some strips off of it and make the sling out of
that.”
“Your shirt,” she repeated, suddenly questioning if
she’d indeed suffered a head injury along with her broken arm.
He tossed the jacket to the ground behind him.
“Yes.”
She was confused. “But then what will you wear?”
He was unfastening his waistcoat. “Nothing, I
suppose .”
Jessica
Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of
it—almost Chicago. She is heavily
inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those
key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and
comedy. She invites you to visit her at
jessicajefferson.com and read more of her random romance musings.
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