Some secrets aren't meant to be kept...
How to Bewilder a Lord
How To #3
Ally Broadfield
Releasing June 5th, 2017
Entangled Scandalous
Gavin
Corey, the Earl of Thornbrook, has shed his rakish ways in the hope of winning
Lady Louisa’s heart, but neither she nor her parents consider him a suitable
match. He convinces her to join forces with him to locate a missing family
treasure by proposing a wager: if he finds the jewels, Lady Louisa must allow
him to court her, but if she prevails, he must reveal the secret he’s keeping
from her.
Lady Louisa
Adair might be the most sought after lady on the marriage mart, but she values
her independence above all else and has no interest in giving up her
inheritance to marry. As she spends more time with the charming earl, however,
she comes to wonder if he’s worth risking her inheritance and her family’s
disapproval… until she’s confronted with the scandal from his past.
She paused and flipped back a few pages. “So it looks like she stopped journaling when she began her…ahem…relationship with Bukov.”
“Of course she did. She had a vastly superior form of
entertainment to indulge in.”
“For heaven’s sake, do be quiet.” Her eyes flashed back
and forth across the page.
“For the sake of my sanity, could you please read aloud.”
Without looking up, she waved a hand at him. “I’ll let
you know as soon as I find something interesting.
“Of course. I’ll just sit here and twiddle my thumbs
until you deem it appropriate to include me.”
“There it is!”
He leaned closer, but her arm blocked his view of the
page in question.
“‘Begin where warmth abounds. Very close, yet worlds
away, it is no place for the meek.’”
“Right. That was the clue that we all assumed pointed to
the portrait over the fireplace. Is there any reason to think otherwise?”
Louisa shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”
Gavin tossed the words around in his head. “I’ve never
understood what she meant by ‘…it is no place for the meek.’”
“I agree, but I don’t think it matters. This was the clue
that led to the painting that had the grille hidden beneath the backing.”
Something was tickling his memory, but he couldn’t figure
it out. “Is there a pen and paper somewhere? I’d like to write down the clues
so we have them all in one place.”
She pointed to the other side of the room. “Check the
drawers in the desk over there.”
He found what he needed and pulled off his gloves before
carefully writing the entire clue. In the meantime, Louisa had continued
reading without him. Oddly enough, her face was flushed a deep red. “Have you
discovered another clue?”
“Not exactly.” She sucked in a deep breath. “A few days
later, she wrote, ‘What new surprises will my lover have for me tonight?’”
She flipped the page. “‘I long for the sweet torture of his touch, for the
pleasure he brings me.’”
It suddenly seemed very warm in the room.
Louisa swallowed audibly. “There’s more.”
Lord help him.
“‘My pulse races as I remember the warm touch of his hands.
I throb with unmet desire, craving his practiced attention.’”
“Um, perhaps we should stop here for the night.”
Preferably before he spontaneously combusted.
Her eyes wide like a frightened animal, she nodded her
agreement and put the journal back on the shelf, then came toward him and
stopped a few feet away.
Without thinking, he lifted his hand and cupped her
cheek. For a moment, she leaned toward him, and he leaned a bit nearer to her.
They were so close he could feel her warm breath against his neck. Just when he
decided it would be a good time to kiss her, she took a step back.
He reached for her hand, but she backed away from him.
“Louisa,” he said ever so softly, reaching for her again.
She shook her head, then turned and ran from the room, her
dog trailing behind her.
His throat tightened. That had not gone well. Certainly not the way things had progressed in a thousand or so of his dreams that had featured her. He wanted to chase her down the corridor, but that would probably scare her away forever. Though he was certain she was as innocent as the day she was born, he might still have a chance with her if she desired him even a fraction of the amount he did her.
His throat tightened. That had not gone well. Certainly not the way things had progressed in a thousand or so of his dreams that had featured her. He wanted to chase her down the corridor, but that would probably scare her away forever. Though he was certain she was as innocent as the day she was born, he might still have a chance with her if she desired him even a fraction of the amount he did her.
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Ally
Broadfield has worked as a horse trainer, director of
marketing and development, freelance proofreader, and a children’s librarian,
among other things. None of them were as awesome as writing romance novels
(though the librarian gig came closest). She lives in Texas and is convinced
her house is shrinking, possibly because she shares it with three kids, four
dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and assorted reptiles. Oh, and her husband.
Ally likes
to curse in Russian because very few people know what she’s saying, and spends
most of what would be her spare time letting dogs in and out of the house and
shuttling kids around. She has many stories in her head looking for an
opportunity to escape onto paper. She writes historical romance set in Regency
England and Imperial Russia.
Stay up
to date by visiting her Website, Facebook, and Twitter, though she makes no
claims of using any of them properly.
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