His Scandalous Kiss
Secrets at Thorncliff Manor #3
By: Sophie Barnes
Releasing July
26, 2016.
Avon
Avon
Blurb
Thorncliff
Manor is the perfect setting for a masquerade ball . . . where the heart’s
secret desires are about to be uncovered in this scintillating Regency romance
from Sophie Barnes
Richard Heartly has exiled himself from society since the war, plotting his revenge for a terrible betrayal. A masked ball at Thorncliff Manor is intended to be a brief diversion. Instead, he encounters a fascinating young woman as entranced by the music as he is. He can’t reveal his identity to Lady Mary. But her siren song keeps drawing him back, and their clandestine meetings could be hazardous to his plan—and to her virtue . . .
Avoiding an unwanted marriage was easy when Lady Mary was ignored by the ton. Thanks to her dazzling appearance at the masquerade, she’s a wallflower no longer. Eligible suitors abound, yet the only man she wants is the brooding, seductive companion who keeps his face hidden. A man who tempts her to disclose her own shocking secret, one that could divide them forever . . .
Richard Heartly has exiled himself from society since the war, plotting his revenge for a terrible betrayal. A masked ball at Thorncliff Manor is intended to be a brief diversion. Instead, he encounters a fascinating young woman as entranced by the music as he is. He can’t reveal his identity to Lady Mary. But her siren song keeps drawing him back, and their clandestine meetings could be hazardous to his plan—and to her virtue . . .
Avoiding an unwanted marriage was easy when Lady Mary was ignored by the ton. Thanks to her dazzling appearance at the masquerade, she’s a wallflower no longer. Eligible suitors abound, yet the only man she wants is the brooding, seductive companion who keeps his face hidden. A man who tempts her to disclose her own shocking secret, one that could divide them forever . . .
Excerpt:
“I must say that I have thoroughly enjoyed your company, Signor,”
Lady Duncaster said as Richard led her away from the dance floor a short while
later. “And you danced superbly, by the way.”
“You are too kind.” Nothing could be truer. He’d counted five
missteps in total, though not on her ladyship’s toes, for which he was
grateful.
“Not at all. In fact, I am quite sure that you have drawn
attention to yourself.”
Following Lady Duncaster’s line of vision, Richard spotted a group
of young ladies who appeared to be whispering behind their fans while looking
his way. As soon as they noted his quiet perusal, they burst into unified
giggles and batted their eyes flirtatiously.
“A lesser man might take advantage,” he told Lady Duncaster
disapprovingly.
“Which is why I have every intention of finding their parents and
having a word with them before their daughters get themselves ruined.” Leaning
closer to Richard, she whispered, “I may not be as strict or judgmental as
most, but I will not stand for naiveté either. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course,” he said, bowing low before her. He did not grant the
giggling young ladies a second glance as he walked away, his eyes searching for
the only lady who’d captured his interest. Perhaps she’d gone back inside?
Pausing, he looked toward the French doors and the blazing light that filled
the great hall beyond. It didn’t tempt him in the least, and he decided
therefore that he would seek refuge amidst the shadows of the garden instead.
Crossing to the stairs, he snatched a glass of champagne from a
nearby footman. Tossing back the drink, he discarded the glass and descended to
the graveled path below, his long cape swirling out behind him as he went.
There were plenty of revelers here as well, some strolling amidst the
flickering lights of torches while others were seated on blankets spread out on
the lawn. Some were even enjoying boat rides on the lake while violinists along
the lakeside filled the air with music matching the tune being played on the
terrace.
Stepping down from the bottom step, Richard breathed in the rich
scent of jasmine permeating the air. He was just about to start forward when a
lady wearing a purple gown stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Dipping
into a slight curtsey, she offered him a broad smile. “My lord,” she said, by
way of greeting.
He didn’t bother to correct her error. “Please excuse me,” he said
instead, hoping she’d move aside and allow him to pass. Although she was older
than when he’d last seen her, he’d immediately recognized her as his younger
sister, Fiona. Not even her domino mask made him doubt her identity as she
stood before him now, reminding him of the sprite who’d tugged at his coat
tails when she was little, her hands often sticky from jam as she’d done so. He
allowed a sentimental smile—one that he knew she could not see.
“Will you not offer to dance with me?” she asked.
For a second, he considered it. Indeed, his heart ached for her
embrace. And yet, he could not allow himself to be tempted. She’d only want
more than what he was willing to offer, as would the rest of his sisters, not
to mention his mother. In all likelihood, revealing himself to Fiona would only
serve to reignite the crying and begging that had taken place beyond his
bedroom door when he’d refused to see them after his return from France.
Gradually, their voices had faded into silence, though Richard could still hear
the awful sound within the confines of his mind. He did not think that he’d be
able to bear having to witness their pain again, as would likely be the case if
Fiona discovered his attendance this evening.
“Not at present,” he murmured.
For a moment, she looked a little stunned, but then she
straightened herself, pressed her lips together and stepped past him. Without
another word, she disappeared quietly up the stairs. Turning, Richard watched
her until she was out of sight. Again he smiled, pleased by the cut she’d given
him in response to his rudeness and comforted by the knowledge that she had
grown into the sort of lady who demanded respect.
Taking a moment to assess his surroundings, Richard walked toward
the lake where the Endurance—a large frigate that confirmed Lady Duncaster’s
fondness for the unusual—provided tables and chairs for the supper that would
take place later.
Arriving at the lakeside, he watched as a couple moved hastily
toward a copse of trees on the right, disappearing completely between the
shadows. He wasn’t surprised. Masquerades were after all designed to cause
mischief, which was why so many people disapproved of them even as they
couldn’t help but be intrigued.
Turning left, he approached the violinist standing furthest away,
his music swirling like stardust through the air. It carried Richard forward,
all thought of revenge momentarily forgotten as the notes coursed through him,
soothing his soul and calming his heart.
It wasn’t until he’d come within ten paces of the musician that
Richard realized that he wasn’t alone. Seated on a stone bench that stood
slightly concealed by a neatly trimmed hedge, was the lady he’d seen earlier on
the terrace. Instinctively, he froze, his progress halted by the vision she
presented. Her eyes were closed behind her mask while a smile of pure pleasure
graced her lovely lips. By God, she was stunning, and it was all Richard could
do not to fall on his knees before her like a subservient knight to her
medieval maiden.
Instead, he studied the delicate curve of her neck and the vast
expanse of pale skin below. Sucking in a breath, he forced himself not to stare
or to wonder what it might be like to hold her against him . . .
to lay her bare and to . . . He blinked, aware that his heart
was thumping loudly against his chest. It couldn’t be helped. She was perfect
in every way—curved in just the right places. Christ! His abstinence was
clearly trying to knock the gentleman right out of him in favor of welcoming a
scoundrel.
Author
Info
While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion:
writing. When she's not busy dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys
spending time with her family, swimming, cooking, gardening, watching romantic
comedies and, of course, reading. She currently lives on the East Coast.
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