The Affair Excerpt:<\/strong><\/p>\nLondon, 1817<\/i><\/p>\n
Charles Edward Lucien Grey, Earl of Thornhill, had died when he was thrown from his horse in what everyone called a tragic riding accident. Elizabeth, the Countess of Thornhill, could have predicted her husband would meet his end in such a manner. He\u2019d always bought the fastest thoroughbreds and raced across the country at breakneck speeds\u2026so it wasn\u2019t surprising to her that he actually had broken his neck one misty afternoon when his horse threw him.<\/p>\n
She\u2019d moved back into her parents\u2019 house with her unmarried sisters, unwilling to stay at Wycombe Manor, the Thornhill seat, by herself. It was a vast, empty house that had never held many happy memories, even when her husband was alive. But even if she had been willing to stay on, he had mismanaged the estate so badly that by the time the creditors had gone through it, there wasn\u2019t much money left for her to live on.<\/p>\n
She forced herself through the required mourning, first wearing all black and then whites and grays and washed-out lavenders. She didn\u2019t go out to society functions; she didn\u2019t dance. It was a sort of half-life, like clouds marring a summer day\u2014unfulfilled, unrealized. But now that half-life was over. The clouds were past.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat colors do you prefer, my lady?\u201d the dressmaker asked as she took measurements.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth stared at the rows of fabric\u2014bright, shimmering, splendid. She hadn\u2019t realized how much she\u2019d missed color until this moment. A little huff of laughter came to her lips. She didn\u2019t feel dignified. Certainly not like a countess. She felt as giddy as a girl with her first beau, simply because mourning was over and it was time to reintroduce color to her wardrobe.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll of them,\u201d was the very sincere and very unhelpful answer she gave. Particularly because she was trying to be economical and had decided to purchase only two or three new gowns.<\/p>\n
The dressmaker paused with a half smile. \u201cYou would look very well in light blue, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n
Yes, she\u2019d always worn pale blues as a debutante. She was milky-skinned and fair-haired with blue eyes\u2014they\u2019d suited her perfectly. The men had admired her. Charles had coveted her\u2026for a time. She\u2019d been the toast of the\u00a0ton<\/i>.<\/p>\n
She started to nod, to accept, but something made her stop. What had that admiration done for her? Yes, she\u2019d married an earl\u2014a man who\u2019d looked at her like a prized possession until she\u2019d proved she wasn\u2019t perfect, and then he\u2019d barely deigned to look at her at all. The admiration of others couldn\u2019t fill a silent home, nor give ease to a troubled mind. It was time to do something for herself.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot blue. Perhaps\u2014\u201d She hesitated. \u201cI have a fondness for red.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDark red?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head. She was sick of darkness. \u201cNo, bright, like\u2026\u201d She cast around in her memory for something. \u201cPoppies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPoppy red,\u201d the woman muttered, turning to browse through the fabrics. \u201cVery well.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth left the dressmaker\u2019s shop happier and more carefree than she\u2019d felt in a very long while. She walked right past her waiting carriage on a whim. She would walk home.<\/p>\n
When one of her footmen noticed, he rushed after her, trying to unfold an umbrella.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s no need for that,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
He glanced at the sky, looking at the dark clouds dubiously.<\/p>\n
\u201cReturn to Middleton House,\u201d she commanded. \u201cI will be there shortly.\u201d<\/p>\n
Maybe she would and maybe she wouldn\u2019t. The day seemed ripe with possibilities, and it had been a long time since she\u2019d been caught in the rain.<\/p>\n
Too long.<\/p>\n
Somewhere on Piccadilly the pleasant drizzle turned into a downpour. The opening of the skies brought colder air, and she stood on the pavement shivering as rain drenched her to the bone. And yes, thinking it might have been a mistake, after all, to send the carriage away.<\/p>\n
She ducked into the first door she saw. And collided with a very solid shape.<\/p>\n
\u201cOomph<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
The solid\u2014and warm, had she mentioned warm?\u2014shape took a step back and features that had been blurred came into view: hazel eyes\u2014a lovely meeting of green and gold\u2014under thick eyebrows, a long, straight nose, and firm, full lips. The lips curved into a smile. \u201cPardon me, miss.\u201d The voice was as deep and rich as chocolate. It reverberated around her insides like someone had just played a low note on a pipe organ.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t bother to correct him. \u201cNo, it was my fault.\u201d She wasn\u2019t entirely comfortable with the amount of space he\u2019d left between them. She took a step back. When she did, she noticed his striped waistcoat had two damp spots on it\u2026exactly where her breasts had pushed against his chest. \u201cOh!\u201d<\/p>\n
He followed her mortified gaze. And when he looked up, his grin took on a wickedly amused flavor.<\/p>\n
She knew. That look told her everything she needed to know. This man was a Rake, emphasis on the capital R. She\u2019d been in society long enough to be acquainted with them. And long enough to know they were best avoided.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you\u2019ll excuse me.\u201d She turned. Then stopped at the sound of his voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s still raining.\u201d<\/p>\n
Indeed it was. She saw the torrents of it through tall sash windows, heard it pinging against the roof.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you\u2019re shivering.\u201d<\/p>\n
She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could stop shaking by sheer force of will. \u201cI\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLiar,\u201d he said softly, with a strange tenderness, as though he\u2019d just offered an endearment. \u201cIf you stay, I can have a pot of tea readied, and you can sit by the fire.\u201d<\/p>\n
He was the devil, offering such temptations when chills were running up and down her spine. She should simply reach out, push open the door, and leave. And catch her death from the cold? She might be wary, but she was also practical.<\/p>\n
She turned back. \u201cYou work in this establishment?\u201d She glanced past him, at bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling stacked full with volumes. The air was tinged with the earthy smells of vellum and parchment, and the shop bustled with activity. Both men and women browsed the stacks or stood by the fire or spoke to the workers at the desk.<\/p>\n
She\u2019d been here before\u2014Cameron\u2019s Lending Library and Booksellers. In the past few years, it had become quite popular.<\/p>\n
\u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n
A fresh wave of shivers racked her. \u201cVery well.\u201d<\/p>\n
She followed him up a winding staircase with a gleaming mahogany balustrade. Without the hum of the patrons around them, the air turned still and silent. She paused. \u201cWhere are you taking me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe offices.\u201d He cast a glance over his shoulder, lifting an eyebrow. \u201cWe don\u2019t serve tea in the main room with the books.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course,\u201d she said, as though she\u2019d suspected it all along, when all she\u2019d really been suspicious of was that he was leading her somewhere private in the hope of taking liberties.<\/p>\n
He opened the door to a study with a desk, a round table, and a sash window. The desk looked large in the small room. All that rested on it was a stack of blank parchment, a quill and inkwell, and a pair of round spectacles.<\/p>\n
Organized, for a rake.<\/p>\n
He pulled out a chair for her, setting it next to the fireplace. He used a poker to stir up a larger flame in the coals. \u201cIf you\u2019ll wait here, I\u2019ll return with the tea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth leaned as close to the fire as she could without falling in. The warm air seeped through her moist garments, causing her skin to prickle. She glanced toward the desk again. Did he actually wear those black-rimmed spectacles? She\u2019d thought a man like him would be too vain to obscure his face.<\/p>\n
She stiffened when she heard heavy footfalls outside the door a few minutes later. He came in carrying a silver tea tray. He set the tray on the desk a moment, then lifted the table and lowered it next to her as though it barely weighed anything before placing the tray in the middle.<\/p>\n
Steam curled from the teapot. She didn\u2019t hesitate to pour a full cup and wrap her chilled hands around it. When she sipped, the hot liquid forged a trail of fire through her stomach. The man didn\u2019t take a seat; he remained standing, practically at her elbow.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, Mr.\u2026\u201d She trailed off, waiting for a name.<\/p>\n
\u201cCameron.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tea nearly sloshed over the rim of her cup as she started. \u201cCale Cameron? The owner?\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me you worked here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do work here,\u201d he pointed out with a smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know that wasn\u2019t what I\u2014\u201d She stopped herself. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t be here. If you do not mind my being blunt, Mr. Cameron, I\u2019ve heard of your reputation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy reputation?\u201d he asked, a little too innocently. \u201cWhat exactly have you heard?\u201d<\/p>\n
She met his amused gaze squarely. \u201cYou seduce women for fun.\u201d<\/p>\n
He frowned, but it didn\u2019t look very sincere. \u201cThat\u2019s slander. More often, they try to seduce me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Cameron!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy apologies,\u201d he said in a demure voice. It didn\u2019t fool her for one moment. \u201cHow is the tea?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA little weak,\u201d she informed him coolly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have brandy,\u201d he said, offering his own challenge in return.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Cameron, it\u2019s hardly proper for me to drink brandy, especially in the presence of a man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a shame,\u201d he said. \u201cYou might enjoy it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI doubt that.\u201d<\/p>\n
The corner of his mouth twitched. After a moment\u2019s pause, he asked, \u201cDo you like to read?\u201d<\/p>\n
Men didn\u2019t ask her that question very often. And her mother had always advised her not to show interest in intellectual pursuits, anyway. It took her a minute to answer. \u201cYes, very much. I prefer poetry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have a membership here?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head, bemused.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll give you one at no cost,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
She stared at him. \u201cAs kind as that is, it\u2019s not necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not? You\u2019d be able to borrow any book you like.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI already have a membership somewhere else,\u201d she lied, hoping he\u2019d drop the matter.<\/p>\n
His eyes narrowed, making him look rather ruthless. More like a pirate or a highwayman than a bookseller. \u201cWith whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re quite persistent, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I wasn\u2019t, I would never have been successful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I can see that,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you won\u2019t tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? What will you do to the poor man?\u201d<\/p>\n
Instead of appearing offended, he smiled slightly. \u201cI\u2019ll have you know I\u2019m a very respected bookseller.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBeing respected isn\u2019t the same as being respectable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s drawing a very thin line,\u201d he said with a trace of humor. \u201cAnd you seem to be hinting, not so subtly, that you don\u2019t think I\u2019m respectable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot at all. I\u00a0know<\/i>\u00a0you\u2019re not respectable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd yet, we\u2019ve never had the pleasure of being acquainted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAs I said, your reputation precedes you.\u201d And was clearly well earned.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you\u2019re willing to judge me based on rumor?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she said, taking another sip of tea. She wanted to smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor shame. Do you want to know the truth?\u201d he asked. One hand curled around the back of her chair in a gesture that was oddly intimate. He stood far too close to her. On one side she felt the warmth of the fire, on the other, the warmth from his body.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe truth of what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy reputation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do hope you\u2019re not trying to shock me, Mr. Cameron.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, but I will speak honestly with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
She cocked her head to the side. How long had it been since a man had spoken honestly with her? Never? She was intrigued, despite her better judgment. \u201cTell me the truth, then.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI like women, but I doubt I\u2019ve bedded more of them than the average bachelor who\u2019s exceeded the age of thirty unmarried. My mistake was in having an affair with a duchess.\u201d<\/p>\n
Heat swept her cheeks. This wasn\u2019t supposed to shock her? \u201cIndeed?\u201d she said with a tongue that felt clumsy. She tried to sound coolly polite, but she wasn\u2019t sure she managed.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wasn\u2019t very tight-lipped about our relationship. Word spread that Cale Cameron, a bookseller of unknown origins, had dared to warm the bed of a duchess. My reputation as a horrible, or more to the point, audacious, rake was sealed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t seem terribly upset,\u201d she observed.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt amuses me, I suppose. If I actually let myself be bothered by everything that was said of me, I would probably go mad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you love her?\u201d The question slipped out before she could think better of it.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t hesitate. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did you\u2026? If you knew she was a duchess, why did you\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n
He caught on to what she meant to ask, even through her floundering. \u201cShe was above me. In every possible way,\u201d he said, brutally honest.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth was both repulsed and oddly fascinated by the way he spoke to her. But she\u2019d asked for his honesty. She wasn\u2019t about to turn missish because he\u2019d given it to her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to pluck the highest fruit from the tree.\u201d<\/p>\n
A little huff of air escaped her lips. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you just seduce the Queen, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
He grinned. \u201cPerhaps I would have, if I\u2019d had the chance to meet her. A little old for my taste, though.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth nearly rolled her eyes. She didn\u2019t, obviously\u2014it was too vulgar a gesture for a countess. \u201cYou must be rather certain of your charms,\u201d she said, with no small degree of sarcasm.<\/p>\n
He glanced down at his chest, patted it with his hands. \u201cOdd. I don\u2019t see any blood.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPardon me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour barbed words. I\u2019m surprised they didn\u2019t tear out my heart.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time she did roll her eyes. \u201cYou are a ridiculous man, Mr. Cameron.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I made you smile,\u201d he said softly.<\/p>\n
She focused on her hand, where it lay in her lap. She wished she had a fan she could flick open to hide her stunned expression.<\/p>\n
Good Lord.<\/p>\n
She\u00a0liked<\/i>\u00a0him.<\/p>\n
She liked\u00a0him<\/i>.<\/p>\n
It had been a very long time since she\u2019d felt such an instant affinity with someone, and she couldn\u2019t recall ever having spoken so openly with another person. But the fact that she\u2019d just come out of mourning, and the man who was making her smile was Cale Cameron, bookseller and rake, plucking the highest fruit from the tree\u2014it all made her feel terribly vulnerable. Achingly vulnerable.<\/p>\n
She set her teacup down with a\u00a0clang<\/i>\u00a0and quickly rose from her chair. Her head nearly bumped into his chin. \u201cThank you for the tea, Mr. Cameron,\u201d she said, looking at the spots on his waistcoat that still hadn\u2019t faded, \u201cbut I fear I must leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWait,\u201d he said, stopping her with a hand at her elbow. \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d<\/p>\n
The heat of his touch arrested her. She stood staring at his strong fingers encircling her arm, and her mouth went dry. She suddenly felt very out of her element. More like a na\u00efve girl than a sophisticated countess. \u201cElizabeth,\u201d she murmured.<\/p>\n
He pulled gently, drawing her closer. \u201cYour full name?\u201d<\/p>\n
She twisted out of his grip, her heart hammering. \u201cI really must be going.\u201d Then, with the last of her dignity in shreds, she darted away like a frightened hare.<\/p>\n
Her pace didn\u2019t slow until she\u2019d reached the main level of the bookshop and was in view of the other patrons. And then she collected herself, smoothed down her damp, wrinkled dress, and left the store, determined to push the charming Cale Cameron far from her thoughts.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Copyright \u00a9 2014 by Lily Maxton. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher. ![\"Blog-Separater2\"](\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/06\/Blog-Separater2.jpg?resize=400%2C80&ssl=1\")
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<\/a> I’m looking for authors and victims willing to write guest blogs, reviews and interviews for All The Things Inbetween. If you would be interested in taking part please drop me an email and I will send you a thank you picture of a kitten!<\/em> ![\"Gmail-\"](\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/06\/Gmail-.jpg?resize=40%2C40&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"I do love the incorrigible young ladies who fail\u00a0good manners. A young chit who steals into a library to nick a naughty diary of a courtesan? I’m sold! Miss Anne Middleton is not only my sort of woman, she is what I would hope my own daughters would aspire to be–well, were they not cats. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3752,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[523,828,1190,1387,1404,1836,1937,1956],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/08\/cover51014-medium.jpg?fit=255%2C400&ssl=1","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":11880,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/2021\/02\/21\/cover-reveal-gulf-of-deception-by-kelly-ann-hopkins\/","url_meta":{"origin":3751,"position":0},"title":"Cover Reveal: Gulf of Deception by Kelly Ann Hopkins","date":"2021-02-21","format":false,"excerpt":"Gulf of Deception by Kelly Hopkins Title: Gulf of Deception (Gulf Shores Mysteries, #1)Author: Kelly Ann HopkinsGenre: Mystery, Young AdultRelease Date: 08 March 2021 Fort Myers Beach has it all: sun, sand, music\u2026and murder. 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While I was trying to sleep away the world, I was still reading some great\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"Anna Whitt\"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3751"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3751"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3751\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3752"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3751"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3751"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3751"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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I do love the incorrigible young ladies who fail\u00a0good manners. A young chit who steals into a library to nick a naughty diary of a courtesan? I’m sold! Miss Anne Middleton is not only my sort of woman, she is what I would hope my own daughters would aspire to be–well, were they not cats. Bunny is quite old fashion, she however would be a prudent feline and a wallkitten, never would she dally with anyone, nor steal a raunchy text or exchange titillating messages with an Earl–she would be a homekitten and I would have her with me into my dotage.\u00a0 Now that we are straight on all that… this was one of my first Entangled ARCs and I am so happy to be part of their ARC readership. This was a book I was really excited about and it hit the spot. I have been looking for a book to itch this hot spot I’ve had since The Mad Harringtons and bless Lily Maxton because this was it exactly. I do wish I had paid closer attention and realized it was the second book of a series–ATTENTION: this is the SECOND book of a series, the first is The Affair–I’d have read that first.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/07\/Add-to-Goodreads.jpg?resize=130%2C48&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"The-Affair\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/08\/The-Affair.jpg?resize=255%2C400&ssl=1\")
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