My friend, Alina K. Field, has just released her latest Regency romance. If you haven’t read one of her books, you’re missing out on a fun read.
A proper spinster thwarts a retired spy in his plan for revenge.
Avenging the Earl’s Lady
Book Five, Sons of the Spy Lord
Regency Romantic Suspense
Word Count 58650
Release date: November 12, 2018
He’s the most irritating, inscrutable, insufferable lord in the kingdom.
Also nosy, managing, and manipulative, and a man who’s made an art of revenge.
She ought to know better than to encourage his attentions. But…he’s rich, and when an impossible debt from her past comes due, theft seems the only answer.
What had he missed about her?
She’s nobly born, and proper. If he wanted a wife, she’d be perfect. Not to mention, he’d very much like her in his bed.
But she’s gone missing, along with a priceless painting he needs for revenge on one last enemy.
Avenging his own honor is everything—until that of his lady is threatened.
Find out what happens when the invincible Spy Lord meets his match!
She ought to know better than to encourage the attentions of the most meddlesome lord in the kingdom.
Lady Jane Montfort stretched on a sofa in the small library, trying vainly to snatch a few moments of much-needed sleep. Outside, the sea crashed and pounded, the din circling this snug Yorkshire cottage and slipping in through the half open window, as relentless as the rumbling male voices floating across the parlor from the council of spies in the dining room.
When another muffled drumming joined in, she rose and pushed the wood sash higher.
A sharp wind rushed her, far too chilling for the late July morning. No one was visible on the lane leading to Gorse Point Cottage, but there was no mistaking the hard-pounding hooves. A rider was coming.
She tiptoed through the parlor to the heavy wood entrance door and paused.
“I shall have to seduce information from her myself, then?”
The Spy Lord’s deep baritone rolled out from the meeting room, the sound slithering up her spine, at once chilling and warming, sending her nerves tapping to match the other noises.
The Earl of Shaldon would casually try to seduce another woman for information, would he? Well, she supposed he’d been doing that all over Great Britain and the Continent since King Louis lost his head.
And if she had a drum—one of those small military ones would do—she’d crash it down upon Shaldon’s firm-jawed, handsome head, ripping to shreds the taut leather or linen or bloody whatever else was stretched over the hoop.
The massive front door didn’t so much as squeak when she stepped out. As she gulped in a great breath of the salty, moist air, the rider came into view, long-legged and plainly dressed. She couldn’t discern if he was a mere messenger or one more of Shaldon’s operatives galloping here at the Earl’s behest.
Anger bubbled up in her. Except for Shaldon’s daughter, Lady Perpetua, they were all here at the Earl’s behest. But like Lady Perry, she herself was most certainly neither servant nor operative.
No, Shaldon was a handsome, enticing, and skilled manipulator, and so here she was, caught up in his schemes and blasted temptations while she had other matters, pressing matters, personal matters, to attend to.
She swallowed the moisture leaking down her throat. He’d kissed her mere hours ago. He’d fondled parts of her body that had been sleeping for more than two decades. Heavens, he’d all but seduced her in the stable yard, and she, an aging spinster, had been naught but a willing victim.
More fool her.
One of Shaldon’s men came around from the back of the house and took the reins while the rider dismounted and tossed his bag over his shoulder. Words were exchanged. The messenger shook his head and hurried to the front door.
He doffed his cap to reveal an abundance of glorious red hair. “My lady.”
He knew her, but she didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t one of the Shaldon House servants. She knew all of them.
Behind her the air stirred. Warmth circled around her and pressed into her back, and she had to fight the urge to lean into it.
“Ah, Ewan, isn’t it?” Shaldon said.
The Spy Lord himself had crept out of the door right behind her, and she hadn’t even noticed.
Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but her true passion is the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband, her spunky, blonde, rescued terrier, and the blue-eyed cat who conned his way in for dinner one day and decided the food was too good to leave.
She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances, but loves to hear from readers!
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