Blurb
Miss Eleanor Fairbanks is the most sensible of all the sinful Fairbank siblings until she has a chance meeting with the too handsome gambling den owner Lucien Glendevon. Ellie knows that her duty to her family should be more important than her own personal desires. The dowager countess has made it clear that she must help rebuild the family's reputation by making a respectable match.
Ellie knows she should accept the very suitable offer of marriage from a charming younger son, rather than dream of a man deemed unsuitable by society. Yet with every chance encounter with Lucien and their scandalous stolen kisses, she finds herself courting impropriety with every step and falling dangerously in love with a man she would never be allowed to marry.
Excerpt: Chapter 2
The following afternoon Eleanor clutched her reticule in a tight grip. She hurried along the cobbled streets of Mayfair, trying her best to ignore the two disreputable fellows who slunk behind her. Surely they could mean her no harm. ThiswasMayfair, for heaven’s sake. Still, there was an acute sense of discomfort tingling along her spine, warning her they were up to no good.
She had forgotten one of the most important lessons Hermina had recently imparted. They were now sisters of an earl. It would not do for them to take long walks or rides alone. They were to always take along with them a maid or a footman. At first, Ellie had thought the lesson laughable. In the country, she had taken long walks in the woods for miles upon miles and into the town without anyone accompanying her, and her reputation had not been in any sort of danger, nor had it suffered any irreparable harm. She could not imagine that a servant needed to follow her about in a place as busy as London and with so many people.
Still, she had decided to follow the strict rules they wanted to use to govern their family and had simply forgotten to take along a servant when she went out for a walk in Hyde Park earlier. Glancing behind her, she worried her bottom lip to note they were still following her. A violent fright swept through her. There could be no mistake about it. They also did not look like the sort of men to frequent Mayfair. Their jackets and hats were scuffed and also their shoes. And even with the distance between them, she could see the discoloration of their teeth and the soot on their faces.
Eleanor hurried her steps, conscious of theclip-clopof her booted heels on the cobbled street. It had seemed challenging fun to walk as far as to Hyde Park, a distance the dowager countess had claimed no young lady ought to attempt. As if they were frail creatures that could not walk less than a mile, stroll around, look at the ducks and then hurry back. Now Ellie castigated herself for forgetting the rule to take a servant, for she now feared these men behind her were intent on mischief or worse. They had also hastened their steps and were glancing surreptitiously about. They were also gaining on her, and there was no one in sight, and her brother’s townhouse was still some distance away. She gripped her parasol, determined to fight them should they accost her. Her brother Richard had taught all of his sisters how to plant a facer should anyone try to take advantage of them. But she feared with two brutes she might stand little chance.
All the dangers she had ever overheard, the ones that were too terrible for genteel ladies to know, echoed in her thoughts. Another quick glance showed they were almost in touching distance. Her heart beating rapidly inside her chest, she broke into a small run. A carriage rumbled to a stop in the distance, on the opposite side of the road. Eleanor slowed her hastened steps as a gentleman pushed the door open and jumped from the carriage without waiting for the steps to be laid out.
There was a brief impression of someone large and elegantly dressed holding a cane held in hand. A wild idea surged in her thoughts, almost alarming her with its scandalous and boldly improper nature. Still, Eleanor hurled herself in his direction, hoping that his elegance of dress and travel indicated that he was a gentleman of good honor and conduct.
The dowager countess claimed they peppered theton. Sensing her, the man glanced up, and she had the perfect impression of a face etched with ruthless strength and carnal beauty. Oddly her heart stuttered, and the unexpected reaction almost caused her to falter. Then she was simply too close to assess him anymore or change her path.
“Darling, it was so good of you to meet me,” she breathlessly cried and with enough volume for the blackguards who crossed the street behind her to hear.
The gentleman went still, his gaze sliding over her with penetrating alertness. Still determined to protect herself by any means possible, she grabbed the man’s elbow. She heard his quick intake of breath. It was, of course, an egregious breach in etiquette to approach a gentleman she did not know, worse to have her body pressed to his so intimately where they might be observed by anyone. As if he understood what she was about, he placed his hand on her waist, tugging her close to his protective embrace. The move was so quick and subtle she ended up bracing a gloved hand against his chest to steady herself from stumbling. His chest muscles tensed beneath her touch, and she withdrew her hand as if she had been burned.
Eleanor swore she felt the heat of him through her gloves and her redingote. A wild shiver cascaded down her spine. She was aghast. A palpable energy emanated from the gentleman and their gazes collided. His eyes were…magnificent, a deep rich silver that seemed as if they caged a storm. His scent wrapped itself around her, eliciting a strange burst of heat to flush through her entire body.
“I am so terribly sorry,” Eleanor whispered, “but I must pretend to know you for a brief moment. Please forgive my rudeness, sir.”
Lucien received onlya fleeting impression of the young lady delectably hugged to his side. Still, he sensed that the remarkable impression of vivid cobalt eyes, wide lush lips and slanting cheekbones would forever remain embedded in his thoughts. A quick glance behind her showed two ruffians, pickpockets perhaps, who seemed more startled than himself that she had flung herself into his arms. The situation immediately became clear, and he released her to step forward.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” he drawled icily to the two men who had come to a fumbling stop.
The larger of the two looked around furtively and withdrew from his pocket a knife with a chipped-edged and dirtied blade. Still, it glinted with ominous intent. The lady inhaled sharply, and fingers tightened on the back of his jacket.
“Please be careful,” she murmured huskily.
Lucien chuckled, washed with a sense of dark amusement. Tossing the cane into his dominant hand, he flicked the rapier from its sheath. Normally he would not hesitate to wade in and teach them a lesson without taking out his blade. But a lady was present; hence the threat needed to be disposed of without any delay or mockery.
“I am hesitant to flay you open in front of a lady,” he said, low and dangerously. “But given your intentions and that I can assume you had a nefarious plan for her, I am not of a mind to be generous.”
“I can close my eyes,” she said from behind him. “Flay away, my good sir, flay away.”
That unexpectedness and the steadiness of those words pulled a rare smile to his lips, and for the first time in years, he felt a pulse of curiosity about a woman. “Then flay I shall,” he said darkly. “I will try to keep the bleeding to a minimum. At best, it will not touch your lovely coat.”
The two blackguards must have sensed his seriousness, for they turned tail and ran off in the opposite direction. The lady exhaled slowly and released his jacket, stepping away from him. He sheathed his rapier and turned to face her, consciously aware he was bracing himself. The impact of her loveliness still rocked him back on his heels and pierced his chest with an uncomfortable sensation. Or perhaps it was the bold curiosity at which she stared up from beneath her feather-plumed bonnet that stirred long-dormant senses.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks turning pink underneath his unabashed appraisal. “I do appreciate your kind assistance, Mr.…?”
“Lucien,” he replied.
Her cheeks pinkened even further, and those blue eyes glittered brightly. “Thank you, Mr. Lucien. You have been most kind and heroic.”
Heroic?For a moment, he stared at her as if she were a creature. “You are welcome. Please permit me to ask your name.”
She seemed hesitant, as if uncertain what to do next. “For this meeting, you may call me Miss Mimi.”
No one would be outrageous enough to name their child Mimi. He sensed that to be a moniker of sort and presumed something about him had informed her that he was no true gentleman. How fascinating. Those who deemed themselves better always seemed to know at first glance, even if he was dressed in the first stare of fashion, that he was not one of them. That he belonged to the rubble and the gutter, and all his wealth and elegance were a mere pretense.