Though her eyes had grown accustomed to the moonlight, she could still only find the vaguest shape of a man near the colossal rosebushes which were attempting to overtake the gardens. The silver light of the moon glinted off what appeared to be golden hair.
The neighbor next door, then? The disappearing Goliath?
“Believe me, madam,” he said crisply, in a voice that was low and rich and deep, “your gardens are the last place in which I would hope to find myself at such a time. Indeed, I had hoped to be long asleep by this hour. However, the pitiful sounds of your creature in terrible pain lured me from the comfort of my bed.”
Adelaide in pain? Her heart leapt anew at the suggestion. “Where is she?”
“Is the mongrel a female, then? I ought to have known.” There was a grimness in his voice now, a harder edge to his words. “Nothing but trouble, the fairer sex. Even in canine form.”
She moved nearer, captivated by the smooth baritone. By the man. Even in his cool agitation, there was something about that voice. And if he had heard Lady in distress and had rescued her? Why, Hyacinth could scarcely countenance the notion of such a man. A man who cared.
“Lady is indeed female,” she said, her eyes searching the details of his face now that she was close enough to detect him.
Adelaide was in his arms.
Being cuddled, the traitorous little minx. Had he just dropped a kiss upon her head?
Not that Hyacinth could blame Adelaide, of course. That broad chest looked an inviting place to nestle. Indeed, Hyacinth entertained a brief, foolish vision of herself held to that chest. Of those strong, masculine arms embracing her rather than hurting her as she had grown so accustomed from a man.
Mayhap she was a harlot, just as Southwick had always told her she was. Perhaps her constitution was lacking, her conviction absent, her morals corrupted. Did she deserve what Southwick had done to her?
Yes, said that awful voice inside her.
The one that inevitably made her pour another glass of spirits.
“She may have some thorns embedded in her paws,” the interloper in her garden said then. “She was crying and howling when I came upon her and quite caught up in the rosebushes. I freed her, but in the darkness, I cannot see her injuries properly.”
Something inside her shifted. Softened. Melted.
This man, whomever he was, had heard a crying dog in the night and had come to her rescue. Surely he could not be all bad? Even if he had somehow found his way into Hyacinth’s gardens where he decidedly did not belong. And even now, he was concerned about whatever injuries she may have sustained thanks to those hulking, overgrown rosebushes.
Hyacinth ought to see them removed, truly. But they were so lovely to behold, their fragrance so enchanting.
Not worth Lady getting hurt again, however.
“Injuries,” Hyacinth repeated, her tongue feeling thick and unused. “What manner of injuries can she possibly have sustained? She was scarcely in the gardens for a few minutes.”
“How do you know how long she was here in the gardens?” the man asked, sounding outraged.
And that was the trouble, was it not? Hyacinth did not. Because she had been too busy consuming champagne and hosting a party. Because she had failed to notice when Adelaide had gone missing.
“It cannot have been long,” she lied, hating herself in that moment. “Give her to me, if you please. I shall see to her inside. Nothing can be done for her in the darkness.”
“Do you promise to take better care of the poor mutt? I find myself reluctant to relinquish her, now that we are acquainted.”
Surely he was jesting.
Hyacinth narrowed her gaze, peering at the man through the darkness. “You are suggesting you will steal my companion?”
“Your companion whom you deserted in the gardens?” he asked pointedly. “Forgive me, my lady, if I question your sincerity. This unfortunate canine was whimpering, crying, and altogether caught up in the rosebushes. I shed a few drops of blood myself, rescuing her from her plight.”
Oh, poor Lady. It was not the first time she had been embroiled in the rosebushes. And since her favorite bone had landed deep within the tangle, Hyacinth knew it would not be the last. Lady would attempt to rescue her prized bone, thorns or no.
Something about this man’s championing of Adelaide had wound its way around Hyacinth’s heart. Or what remained of her heart, anyway—the charred and scarred remnants, more like.
“Thank you, sir,” she managed. “Adelaide is beloved to me. I would never want her to be in pain. If you rescued her, I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
He was silent for a moment. Hyacinth took advantage of the time to draw nearer, to take in even more details of his face, his form. He was tall. Deliciously handsome. The Goliath next door suddenly had a voice. And she liked it, much to her trepidation.
“A debt of gratitude, you say, madam,” he repeated, his long fingers stroking Adelaide’s fur.
And fancy that, Hyacinth, envious of her own dog!
But oh, to feel such a tender touch upon her skin rather than wrath. To be soothed and stroked instead of punished…
“Yes,” she repeated, cursing herself for the breathlessness in her voice. For the catch, the tremble. “A debt of gratitude. How can I repay you?”
What was it about this mysterious intrude in her gardens who had cared enough for Adelaide to find his way to her rescue in the midst of the dark night?
“I can think of any number of ways you might repay me,” he said slowly. “But the first one to come to my mind cannot be shaken, regardless of how much common sense, intellect, and reason would like to disperse it.”
That sounded promising. Now that Lady was found and in good health, cuddling with this man who had Hyacinth at sixes and sevens, all was well in her world again.
She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. “What do you want from me, sir? Ask, and it shall be yours.”
Within reason, she ought to add.
But something about this man—perhaps his rush to attend a wounded dog, perhaps his mannerisms, or perhaps both—made her think she could trust him. Made her think he was good. Trustworthy, even.
“A kiss,” he said. “That is what I want from you.”
Want more? Get Her Virtuous Viscount here!
Don’t miss Scarlett’s other romances!
(Listed by Series)
Complete Book List
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Heart’s Temptation
A Mad Passion (Book One)
Rebel Love (Book Two)
Reckless Need (Book Three)
Sweet Scandal (Book Four)
Restless Rake (Book Five)
Darling Duke (Book Six)
The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)
Wicked Husbands
Her Errant Earl (Book One)
Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)
Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)
Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)
Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)
Her Virtuous Viscount (Book Six)
League of Dukes
Nobody’s Duke (Book One)
Heartless Duke (Book Two)
Dangerous Duke (Book Three)
Shameless Duke (Book Four)
Scandalous Duke (Book Five)
Fearless Duke (Book Six)
Notorious Ladies of London
Lady Ruthless (Book One)
Lady Wallflower (Book Two)
Lady Reckless (Book Three)
Sins and Scoundrels
Duke of Depravity (Book One)
Prince of Persuasion (Book Two)
Marquess of Mayhem (Book Three)
Earl of Every Sin (Book Four)
Duke of Debauchery (Book Five)
The Wicked Winters
Wicked in Winter (Book One)
Wedded in Winter (Book Two)
Wanton in Winter (Book Three)
Willful in Winter (Book Four)
Wagered in Winter (Book F
ive)
Wild in Winter (Book Six)
Wishes in Winter (Book 3.5)
Wooed in Winter (Book Seven)
Stand-alone Novella
Lord of Pirates
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Love’s Second Chance
Reprieve (Book One)
Perfect Persuasion (Book Two)
Win My Love (Book Three)
Coastal Heat
Loved Up (Book One)
About the Author
USA Today and Amazon bestselling author Scarlett Scott writes steamy Victorian and Regency romance with strong, intelligent heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She lives in Pennsylvania with her Canadian husband, adorable identical twins, and one TV-loving dog.
A self-professed literary junkie and nerd, she loves reading anything, but especially romance novels, poetry, and Middle English verse. Catch up with her on her website www.scarlettscottauthor.com. Hearing from readers never fails to make her day.
Scarlett’s complete book list and information about upcoming releases can be found at www.scarlettscottauthor.com.
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Lady Wallflower
Notorious Ladies of London Book 2
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2020 by Scarlett Scott
Published by Happily Ever After Books, LLC
Kindle Edition
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover Design by Wicked Smart Designs
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by law.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
For more information, contact author Scarlett Scott.
www.scarlettscottauthor.com
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