This always engendered some of the most intense feelings in me, and I cried out, hearing his murmur of “Yes, that’s it, oh, my love, yes,” from below me.
After one daring act, two worlds collide
A Reason to Rebel
© 2009 Wendy Soliman
Duty has always been Estelle Travis’s byword. But every woman has her limits, even a recently widowed one with few prospects. Her father’s coldly calculating plan to force her into another marriage is the final straw. In an act of rebellion, she takes up a position as companion to Lady Crawley. She soon realizes she may have just exchanged one peril for another, in the guise of Alexander, Viscount Crawley.
Alex is beguiled by the aura of mystery that surrounds the beautiful new governess. Her air of vulnerability brings out his protective instincts in spades. He discovers her well-hidden reckless streak when her sister goes missing and, rather than do what’s expected and return to her father’s austere household, Estelle embarks on her own search.
Amid a thickening cloud of suspicion and whispers of murder, what choice does a gentleman of honour have other than to offer his assistance? Then there’s the allure of her company, even if it exposes him to dangers that have little to do with her sister’s plight…
Warning: This title contains a Regency heroine who abandons conventional behaviour, breaches the social divide and renounces her inhibitions.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Reason to Rebel:
Early the following morning Alex assisted Estelle into his luxurious coach and four. His mother looked very small and full of concern as she stood on the front steps and waved them off to town. He experienced a pang of guilt at being the cause of her anxiety. Aware of Estelle regarding him with a quizzical expression, he waited for his two liveried tigers to scramble up behind and gave his coachman the order to drive on.
“I feel most ungrateful,” Estelle said, “deceiving Lady Crawley in such a monstrous fashion.”
“And your way would have better served your conscience?” He raised his arm to his mother for a last time before putting up the window.
“No, of course not, and I would not have you think I do not appreciate your intervention. It is just that I cannot help regretting the necessity to play her false.”
“Then let us hope that our business might be speedily concluded.”
“Indeed, but if we are so fortunate as to recover my sister I do not see how I can return to Crawley Hall. I shall have Marianne’s welfare to consider as well as my own and can hardly foist another deserving cause upon Lady Crawley.”
“So what do you intend to do?”
“I cannot say with certainty. In fact I own I have not thought that far ahead. Devising a means of discovering Marianne’s whereabouts and taking her to safety has occupied all my thoughts since learning that my father is no longer looking for her.” She paused, nibbling at the end of her gloved index finger, a contemplative expression filtering across her lovely countenance. “Perhaps we are both destined to become governesses after all. We are amply qualified to fulfil such a role thanks to our tenure at Miss Frobisher’s Academy for Young Ladies.”
“I daresay.” Alex chuckled at the vision this conjured up. He glanced out of the window as they approached the outskirts of the village. “I say, look out!” He clasped her shoulder and in one fluid movement pulled her head towards his lap.
“What is it?” The alarm in her voice was apparent even though it was muffled by the close proximity of her lips to his thigh.
“We are passing through the village, past the inn where you father has put up. I can see him talking to his coachman at the archway to the mews. No, no, keep down, he is looking this way.”
“Has he recognized you?”
“He can hardly have failed to do so. But do not be alarmed. He will only have observed me sitting alone inside my carriage.”
Winthrop broke off his conversation with his man and turned to glare at the passing carriage. His features were cold and full of suspicion. He lifted his head to ask a question of the inn’s ostler. Presumably he wanted to know whose carriage it was bowling past them at such a cracking pace. Alex assumed a bored expression and looked straight through the man.
“He will suspect something nonetheless.”
“It will get him nowhere.”
“No, I suppose it will not.” Estelle sounded far from certain as she twisted her head sideways on his thigh, presumably because she found it uncomfortable speaking to the fabric of his breeches. Alex stifled a groan. He was finding it uncomfortable too, but for a very different reason. “But he will now know that you are not at home and will very likely try to gain access to Crawley Hall and to your mother.”
“Pray do not concern yourself. He will not get past the gatehouse. And by now my mother will be in the curricle, on her way to Lady Jacobs’s party, where she will remain until I have returned and can collect her myself.”
“But he will not give up, even then.” Alex could hear renewed anxiety in her voice and had to suppress the almost overwhelming urge to comfort her in the manner which spontaneously sprang to mind. By some extreme effort of will he resisted taking such an improper course, making do with stroking her slender back, soothing her as though she were a fractious child. “He will undoubtedly set about quizzing your staff, or more likely get his man to do so.”
“And what will he discover?” Alex lifted his shoulders. “That I have removed to London, that is all, and there is nothing remarkable about that. I visit the capital on a regular basis.”
“But he might also learn that you were accompanied on your journey by a lady who has been a guest in your house.”
“Perhaps, but only if there is someone in my employ who values his position so little that he is prepared to reveal that information. I have given specific orders that your visit should not be mentioned to anyone and I seriously doubt that those orders will be disobeyed. But even if he does somehow gain that intelligence, what then?”
“Well, he might look for me in your London home.”
“Where he will have no better luck than he did here.” He transferred his attention from her back to the trembling shoulder resting on his knee. “Have courage, Estelle. I know you are fearful of him and I comprehend your anxiety. But take comfort from the fact that he cannot get near you or force you to do anything against your will when you are in my company.”
“And when you are not with me?”
“I shall not leave you unprotected until this matter is resolved.”
“That is not what I meant.” She popped her head up, only for him to push it sharply back down again. The only sounds inside the carriage as they passed through the outskirts of the village were the wheels gliding over the rutted road and Estelle’s anxious breathing.
“It is all right,” he said after a moment or two more during which no words passed between them. “We are beyond the village now and it is safe for you to get up.”
“Thank goodness!” Bonnet askew and face drained of all colour, she lifted her head, her insecurities on plain view as she gazed at him through trusting eyes.
Alex cursed beneath his breath. It was beyond his ability, would likely have been beyond any man’s power, to resist her as she appeared at that moment. Her eyes were wide with anxiety, and he was mesmerized by the sweep of her extravagant lashes as they fluttered to rest against her pale cheeks. The rise and fall of her breast as she struggled to contain her fear only added to his dilemma. To Alex she had never appeared lovelier or more vulnerable. His arm was still resting on her shoulder and he pulled her head against his chest, intent upon reassurance. Her eyes opened wide with surprise and he thought she was about to object. But she made no attempt to evade him. Encouraged, Alex’s free hand moved to set her bonnet straight and then pushed a springy curl behind her ear.
“You worry too much,” he whispered. “It is not at all flattering that you set such little stock by my abilities to protect you.”
“It is not th
at, it is just that I—”
“Shush, no more talking.”
She was looking directly up at him, her lips plump and so achingly tempting that Alex gave up all efforts at restraint. Slowly, giving her ample opportunity to object, he dropped his head, angling it to avoid colliding with the now straight peak of her bonnet. With infinite gentleness he covered those lips with his own. Savouring the sweet taste of her mouth, he gradually increased the pressure. His body pulsated with desire when he discovered that she did not have the slightest idea how to return his kiss. The knowledge both heartened and infuriated him. Her brute of a husband had clearly not taken the time to allay her very natural fears about her marital responsibilities with soothing preliminaries before forcing himself on her.
All to the good, Alex decided, putting his heart into pleasing her. He teased her lips apart with his tongue and lazily explored the contours of her mouth. As he drew her closer and deepened the kiss she let out a tiny sigh, whether of outrage or pleasure he was not entirely sure at first. But when her arms wound their way round his neck, a feeling of triumph ripped through him. That she was following her instincts and actively seeking to prolong the moment became apparent when she pressed her body more closely against his side. It was a headily sensual gesture underlined with a sinuous grace that left him breathless and aching for more.
Her action, and the sensations that threatened as a direct result, brought Alex to his senses. Disciplining himself to ignore his growing need, he reluctantly lifted his head and released her. Another cry, and this time it was definitely one of protest, passed her lips.
“Better?” He raised a questioning brow as he removed his arm from around her shoulders and settled her back in her seat.
“Is that how you resolve all the problems with the females under your care?”
The Devil’s Mistress
Laura Navarre
Desire has never been so dangerous.
Living breath-to-breath beneath the shadow of violence, Italian perfumer and apothecary Allegra Grimaldi was forced to learn the killing arts from the Hand of God—a religious assassin. She has sworn never to use her deadly skills, but now a blackmailer has her by the proverbial throat.
To save her family from an ugly death, she must do the unthinkable. Infiltrate the court of King Henry VIII, poison the heretic Anne Boleyn before she becomes queen—and frame Anne’s bastard brother for the crime. Honest and principled, Sir Joscelin is the perfect pawn.
Allegra is clever, captivating…and her warning to Anne immediately rouses Joscelin’s suspicion. Sworn to protect his sister, and striving for recognition from the powerful father who disdains him, Joscelin has no choice but to put aside his attraction to the mysterious lady and gather evidence to see her burn for witchcraft.
To avert a disaster that will change the face of Europe, this stalwart soldier of incorruptible integrity and the fallen woman who breathes deception must learn to trust each other—and discover the one truth that could save them all.
Warning: This novel is riddled with perilous potions and poisons, Tudor lust and liaisons, Renaissance revelry and revenge, intrigue and assignations, blackmail and betrayal, and one seriously sexy Frenchman.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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The Devil’s Mistress
Copyright © 2010 by Laura Navarre
ISBN: 978-1-60928-028-4
Edited by Deborah Nemeth
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2010
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