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Enjoy an excerpt from The Earl’s Enticement coming in May from Soul Mate Publishing
Under the blessed shade of the large oak grove, Roark hopped to the ground. The gentlest of breezes tickled the tree’s leaves; their soft rustling filling the glen with a soothing refrain. He swiftly followed Miss Ferguson across the picnic area. She’d snapped her parasol closed, then unceremoniously clambered from the landau, before dashing toward Helene’s carriage. He didn’t like the way she wielded the parasol or the look of outraged determination on her face.
Even infuriated, and stamping in her haste, Miss Ferguson’s hips swayed enticingly. Others had begun to take note of her, and conversations dwindled before stopping altogether. His guests stepped aside, opening a pathway for her as she bustled toward the barouche.
If the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d permit the laugh tickling his lips. It was ridiculous. Her petite figure stampeding to rescue the pup, or ring Freidrick a peal, and everyone edging away, was chuckle-worthy.
Where was her family? Ah, they too were moving as a unit to intercept her; the women from the left, the men from the right. They wouldn’t make it in time.
And neither, by God, would he.
How could she move so fast in that gown? Its ruffled hem didn’t allow long strides. Light blue stockings, embroidered ivory clocks at the heels, peeped out each time she took a hurried step.
She raised her closed parasol over her shoulder, like a knight with a sword.
Oh hell. He didn’t like the looks of this.
Her first public jaunt, and she was going to make a bloody scene, Devil seize it. He picked up his pace, covering the ground with long strides just short of a trot, hoping to avert a disaster before it occurred.
