by Wendy Vella
Lords Of Night Street Collection
Books 1-4
Wendy Vella
Contents
Lords Of Night Street Collection
Lord Gallant
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Lord Valiant
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Lord Valorous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Lord Noble
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Excerpt From Sensing Danger
Other Books By Wendy Vella
About the Author
Lords Of Night Street Collection
Born into wealth and privilege, the Lords of Night Street have vowed to serve those most in need. They navigate the glittering ballrooms of society and London's criminal underworld with equal ease, leading the fight for love and justice.
LORD GALLANT
Nicholas, Earl of Attwood wanted a docile wife, instead, he ends up with the scholarly Grace Esseltte. A dowdy spinster with a tart mouth and dangerous secrets. But he soon realizes there is a great deal more to her, and with that knowledge comes something else… the heart he’d thought would never love, has learned to do exactly that.
She vowed to never marry, but her clumsiness is finally her downfall. Compromised, there is little for Grace to do but wed the stern Earl, but she refuses to yield to him in any way. However, soon she understands the man behind the gruff facade and concedes his tender gestures and honorable ways are in danger of stealing her heart.
LORD VALIANT
When Miss Charlotte Radley arrives on his doorstep, claiming she needs help from the Lords of Night Street, Viscount Needly is intrigued. She lives in one of the most notorious parts of London and runs a halfway house for ladies of the night, yet her speech and manner tell him she is a lady. Determined to uncover the truth about his mysterious new client, Marcus’s investigations find that not only is Charlotte more than she seems—she’s also in grave danger. He knows that it’s no longer just her safety involved—his own survival would be in question if he lost the one woman who had given his life meaning.
Charlotte has no time to listen to the arrogant Viscount. She has chosen the path she wishes to tread, and if that includes the occasional dangerous foray into the more seedy areas of London then so be it. She will do what must be done to care and protect her girls. But when someone tries to stop her it is to Lord Needly she must turn to for help, and in doing so she risks what she’d always believed was safe… her heart.
LORD VALOROUS
Viscount Hatherton has met no one like Miss Poppy March. Exquisite, headstrong, and reckless. The more time he spends with her, the more he understands that she is what is missing in his life. She’s warmed the cold places in his heart and brought him into the light. Can he keep her safe and convince her of his love when she is determined to keep them apart?
Poppy is on a dangerous quest to expose the fiend she believes is poisoning her employer. She enlists his help of the disturbing Viscount but soon realizes that he is as malleable as an Oak Tree. He does not follow instruction well and insists that instead, she follow his! She vows to keep him at arm’s length, but her traitorous heart has other ideas.
LORD NOBLE
Finding himself in a sudden betrothal with the woman who makes him feel like he’s rolling in stinging nettle is proving to be a challenge for the notorious Marquis of Vereton. He and the exquisite Miss Elizabeth Witlow had always disliked each other, or so Leo believed. So when he makes his audacious proposal, no-one’s more shocked than Leo that Beth agrees.
Feigning being in love with the Marquis of Vereton isn’t quite as hard as Beth anticipated. He’s a consummate lover whose skill in the bedroom is only exceeded by his determination to uncover her long-buried secrets and intense desire to protect her. Beth soon realizes that Leo won’t settle for being a faux fiancé. He wants more than her body… he needs her total trust too. And that is the most dangerous risk of all.
Lord Gallant
Lords Of Night Street
Chapter One
Grace wanted to scratch her wrists. The stiff lace the seamstress had put around the cuffs was chafing. In fact the whole dress was uncomfortable, and it was not made better by her corset, which was laced so tightly she felt light-headed. Grace didn’t like corsets, and usually instructed her maid to tie it so that she could at least draw a deep breath, however today that was not the case, as today was her wedding day.
“Nicholas William Theodore Charles Carlisle, fifth Earl of Attwood, will thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?”
Lord, he even had more names than she, Grace realized as the vicar recited them. She shot the big man at her side a nervous look. His dark brown hair curled just as it should over his ears and rested on his perfectly starched snow-white collar. Everything about the man who was to be her husband was perfect, right down to his straight teeth. He was honorable as well, otherwise neither of them would be there in the church, because Grace had begged and pleaded with him not to marry her. She didn’t care about her reputation, after all, but he had simply looked at her with anger banked deep in his dark brown eyes, and said in a cold, clear voice that he did, and that was that.
Her clumsiness had finally been her downfall. Seeking solitude at the Holland ball, Grace had found a dimly lit parlor. Upon entering, her foot caught the leg of a low table she had not seen, off balance she had also not seen the earl, who’d risen from a chair and reached to catch her. Grace landed on top of his large body, her skirts raised, his hands on her, and with perfect timing society’s biggest gossip, Lady Coburn, and her lover Lord Haven had arrived. Thus, she was now about to marry the bloody fifth earl of somewhere!
He thought she’d set out to trap him. Grace knew this, even though he was too much a gentleman to mention it. She also knew he would hold it against her for many years to come, if not all of them.
She’d seen him before, one evening when Grace and her cousin Harry had attended a play at Covent Garden. He had been talking with other elegant people whilst she and her cousin had found their seats. An aristocrat to his toes, he had stood there with the chandelier above cas
ting a glow around him, tall and distinguished, whilst several women had tried to attract his attention.
According to her best friend Ruth, well her only friend actually, he was a very correct and proper and highly respected man, who sat in the House of Lords, and rarely displayed unseemly emotion. In fact, he was the exact opposite of Grace.
Her cousin Harry had been in a lather once he was informed as to what she had done, and whom she was to marry. He, like she, had believed she would never wed, and also knew that she had no wish to. Harry had done all he could to change the earl’s mind, but he had not yielded. The earl had been perplexed as to why they would not want such a fortuitous union, considering Grace’s circumstances and lack of suitors.
“It is your cousin’s reputation at stake, sir,’ he had said in a cool voice that Harry had said made him quake in his boots. “One would think that marrying an earl would be in her favor, Lord Harrington, considering what the outcome would be if she did not.”
Grace did not want to be a countess; in fact, she’d thought herself a devout spinster. Even if she had one day married, she’d been sure her future spouse would be a bland, innocuous sort who did not demand over much of her so she was left to herself. But no, Grace was about to marry an earl, and not just any earl, the earl of the moment, according to Ruth, who rarely thought before she spoke, and viewed the world through a silly pink haze of romance. ‘I had heard a rumor that he was to marry a Duke’s daughter,’ Ruth had told Grace, to which she had replied, ‘excellent, I will not only acquire an unwanted husband, but also one who bears his new wife a grudge.’
Stealing another look at the man beside her, Grace wondered if it were true that he’d already decided to wed another, and was now nursing a broken heart as well as smoldering rage at what Grace had done. Not that he would ever let that show; a man of his standing did not display emotion, he was always in control. Grace was rarely controlled, even though she would dearly love to be. How was she to live up to this man? Her only redeeming feature was her ability to read and speak fluently in five languages. Outspoken and no great beauty; Grace could never hope to be the wife he should have, she thought, feeling queasy. Between the nerves and lack of food, she was not her usual robust self. She couldn’t live up to him, that much was obvious. The only thing passably elegant about her was her name, which her mother had felt would give her a good start in life, and was far too romantic for a woman who looked below average on a good day.
Grace was clumsy, bookish, and tended to laugh at things that others found no amusement in. She didn’t speak in hushed tones, nor hold her tongue when she should. In fact, according to her cousin she should have been born a man.
The earl was frowning now, and of course still looked handsome doing so. As if sensing her thoughts he turned his head, and Grace wanted to take a step backward at the anger in his eyes. He turned away again and she was able to draw a breath.
He hated her, which to Grace would be understandable if she had indeed set out to trap him, but she hadn’t. And her worry now was that no amount of convincing on her part would change his mind on that fact, ever.
“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Grace didn’t want to think about the earl’s large body, because then she’d think about the wedding night and when and if he would come to her room to consummate the marriage. It wasn’t that she was a prude, far from it. When she and Harry retired to the country each year, Grace was often seen striding about in breeches. She’d attended the births of animals, and even been there in the village when a woman had given birth. However, she’d never actually thought she’d have a child or experience a man doing what he did to give her a one.
“I pronounce that they be man and wife.”
The vicar smiled at them when the service was at a close, and Grace knew neither she nor the earl returned the gesture. Thankfully, there was to be no kissing to seal the union.
“Lady Attwood.”
“Pardon?” Grace looked at the earl as he spoke to her.
“Take my arm, my Lady,” he said in a smooth deep voice that was as perfect as the rest of him.
“Thank you,” Grace said, as she placed the tips of her fingers on his arm. Dear lord, she was a countess. The thought was not a pleasing one.
They walked slowly down the aisle, and she managed a tight smile for the people present, more a grimace really, and he simply nodded his dark head like royalty. Disaster struck as they reached the door and she did not lift her foot high enough to clear the step. Her toe struck it and she felt herself falling. Grace closed her eyes and braced for the inevitable impact, but it never came. Instead, two large hands righted her.
“Are you all right?”
Grace felt the hot flush of color fill her face as titters came from behind them.
“Thank you,” she said again. “I’m s-sorry for the embarrassment.” She added the last with a quick look at him before pulling away. His lips were in a tight line, and he was frowning, no doubt wishing himself wed to an elegant woman who would have floated down the aisle looking ravishing, not an ungainly spinster dressed in muddy colors.
“I’m not embarrassed,” he said, much to Grace’s surprise. “You tripped; it is hardly something I could be embarrassed over.”
“Give it time,” Grace whispered quietly. “I’m sure you’ll revise that opinion.”
She looked at him as she heard a soft snort, but his face was emotionless. She must have been mistaken. He gave her an elegant nod. Really, was there nothing this man did badly? Did he perhaps suck his food through his teeth, laugh in deep booming gusts, or snore? Not that Grace would share his bed long enough to find out the last one, but she hoped he did just the same. Something, anything, that would make him less than bloody perfect.
“Yes, well, we all have our crosses to bear, my Lady,” he then said, taking her arm again as he navigated them down the steps.
“Grace.”
“Pardon?” He lowered his head to hers, which was some distance below.
“My name is Grace, and I would like you to use it.”
She’d surprised him, because the fingers on her arm tightened briefly, and then relaxed.
“Grace,” he said, making it sound exotic, which instantly made her wish she’d not offered it, because Grace could not be any further from exotic if she tried. “Shall we greet our guests?”
She wanted to say no but instead nodded. Grace’s stomach hurt. It had been twisted with anxiety since she’d woken and the reality that today her life would change had dawned on her. Thoughts swirled around inside her already sore head about what her future held, and she wondered how she was to get through the next few hours.
The guests soon surrounded them and as they had married in St George’s, there were plenty of people on hand to witness the event. The season was also in full swing, so that ensured everyone knew the earl’s wedding to Grace was today, as was witnessed by the carriages lining both sides of the streets. She tried to stand slightly back, as no one was addressing her in the hushed solicitous tones, accompanied by sympathetic pats on the arm, as they were her husband, but he did not allow that. Placing a hand in the middle of her spine, he propelled her forward, until she stood at his side. Grace found a fake smile, and kept it on her face as the guests came and went. It was like a funeral; there was no laughter or happiness, no rose petals, and were she of a romantic nature, she would be justifiably put out. However, she wasn’t a romantic, and this was a wedding to save her reputation, nothing more. It was loveless and cold, and that was a depressing thought, made more so by the fact Grace was fairly certain her future loomed long and lonely, with little humor and laughter with a husband who hated her.
“Indeed, Lord Quinn, thank you for the kind words.”
Grace watched the Earl of Attwood bow at her side to the elderly gentleman. He was acting as if today was just like an
y other, thanking people and nodding his handsome head, as if they were just having a passing conversation, nothing important, not like marrying a woman who in the normal course of events would not even feature on his “to marry” list—in fact, any list.
“If you will excuse me, Grace, I have to speak with someone.”
“Of course,” Grace quickly took her fingers off his arm. She then watched her husband walk toward a group of three men, all of whom looked somber as he approached. Large like he, they stood very correctly, each upright, hands clasped before them almost as if they were standing to attention. One gripped the earl’s shoulder as he reached them and another shook his head. It was obvious they were commiserating with their friend, and because she knew this entire wedding was her fault, the guilt settled even more heavily in the pit of her stomach. Unable to watch, Grace quickly turned away.
