Lana twittered nervously. She really should return to the ball before her brother organized a search.
The door handle squeaked.
Oh, drat, drat, drat!
Lifting her skirts, Lana scrambled to sit on the window ledge before stretching one arm toward a lower branch.
“Miss Hillary, come out, come out, my sweet.” Carrington’s hushed voice invaded the space. “I know you’re in here. I heard your laughter, you naughty temptress. I grow weary of these childish games. Allow me to claim my prize.”
Of all the—
Lana whipped her head around to deliver a sharp retort and knocked herself off balance. She pitched forward, barely grabbing the branch with both hands before slipping from the window ledge. One second she swung through the air and the next she came up short.
Oh, heavens above. Something caught her skirt, causing it to bunch up around her waist and expose her drawers for all God’s tiny garden creatures to see.
Lana tightened her grip and suppressed a whimper. Why did she leave the ballroom? Giving the miserable lout a cut direct in front of the ton at large would have been wiser. Now, certain death might be the reward for her hasty decision. Nevertheless, one thing remained absolute; Lana would risk breaking her neck before she would call out for Carrington’s assistance.
***
Andrew Forest, the Duke of Foxhaven’s youngest son, tossed his cheroot to the ground and sprang forward to rescue the young lady dangling from the tree. He had been watching her with curiosity ever since she poked her head through the open window. Only a fool would have bet on her rash action. What were ladies about these days, throwing themselves from windows? She’d barely saved herself from a nasty fall, and she remained in a precarious predicament.
“Miss Hillary?” A perplexed male voice drifted out the window.
Drew froze in place, not wishing to draw the man’s attention outside. Any young lady desperate enough to escape the gent’s company by means of a second-story window wouldn’t wish her effort for naught.
“Are you in here, dearest?” A loud bang, like the barking of a shin against a solid piece of furniture, sounded in the room. “Bloody hell. It’s too bloody dark to see a bloody thing in this damned room. Bloody, no-good chit.”
Drew raised his eyebrows. Quite inappropriate language if the lady were in the room, but as luck would have it, the no-good chit swung from a tree branch with her skirts up around her middle. Drew glanced between the lady and window, debating on whether he should give away her location to save her foolish neck or trust her to hang on a smidge longer.
The room brightened a brief moment followed by the slamming of a door. The foul-mouthed gentleman gave up his search without ever checking the open window, but who would have imagined any woman so bold as to climb out a window? Drew’s interest was piqued.
He hastened to the dangling debutante. “This must be my lucky night,” he drawled. “It’s raining ladies.”
The chit kicked her legs. “Oh, get me down at once, sir. Can’t you see I’m in a compromised position?”
The lady’s position revealed a great deal of shapely ankle and long leg, a poor motivator to rush to assist the damsel under normal circumstances. “It appears your skirts are caught on the trellis. I’ll climb up and release it.”
“Oh, please hurry. I—” Her voice caught on a sob.
He hurried up the trellis, ignoring the pricks and pokes of thorns through his gloves. Having had his share of narrow escapes through windows, Drew held some sympathy for the young woman, but damned if he’d ever gotten himself into a pickle like this one.
“Almost there. Just a moment longer and you may let go.” Drew spoke to her as he would a spooked filly while he worked the hem of her gown loose. He climbed halfway down the trellis then jumped to land with a thud. “Looks like a trip to the retiring room will be in order, but otherwise, you’ll go unscathed, Miss Hillary, is it?”
The lady must be related to the Hillary men, a younger sister. What had Langford been moaning about at the club as of late? Something in the way of doubting his admiration for the miss could overcome his aversion to her mother.
Reaching up, Drew grasped her thighs in a hug. “You may let go, Miss Hillary. If you don’t mind my asking, what manner of gentleman drives a lady to flee out a window?”
“Only the most despicable curs, I suppose.” A violent tremor raced through her limbs despite her bravado.
Miss Hillary released the branch and even though they tottered, Drew held tight, unwilling to let her fall at this juncture. Once he had steadied them, he loosened his hold. She slid down his front, his hands brushing her delectable backside. It was a fleeting reward for his gallant act. He’d certainly received greater rewards from the fairer gender for less heroic acts.
When her feet touched the ground, his arms encircled her slim waist. She felt quite nice in his embrace and smelled like lily of the valley, sparking visions of a wild romp in a field. Perhaps he would keep her.
Her delicate hands rested against his chest. “You may release me, sir.”
A flicker from the lanterns behind him illuminated her plump lips. Damn, she had fine kissable lips. Did she feel it too, this heat between them? He urged her closer and sensed the quickening of her breath. “They say if a gentleman snags a debutante, he’s allowed to take her home.”
Her fingers curled softly against his waistcoat and sent blood rushing to his groin. Inclining his head, he grazed his lips over hers, testing her receptivity.
She gasped and shoved her fists against his chest, twisting her face away. “Oh! Release me at once, you scoundrel.”
Her commands brought a lazy smile to his face. How he’d love to hear her sultry voice issuing orders in the bedchamber. But alas, he wouldn’t drag her there without consent.
“As you wish.” Drew dropped his hands from her waist, but he didn’t step away and neither did she. Her heat and perfume enveloped him, urging him to abandon all semblances of manners and kiss her anyway.
“I have a good mind—”
A twig snapped, causing him and the temptress to startle and knock heads.
“Ouch,” she hissed and held a hand to her forehead.
“Drew?” Lady Amelia Audley called out in a hushed voice. “Did you come out here?”
Bloody nuisance. This was the last time he’d play hero to a lady in distress.
He had hoped to avoid a scene when he had spotted the widow in attendance this evening. With a tiny push, he directed the alluring Miss Hillary toward the house.
“Run along before we’re discovered,” he whispered.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Suzie Grant for sharing her abiding love of the sea, and for her patience in answering numerous nautical questions, or pointing me in the right direction. To all the lovely people at Sourcebooks, especially my editor, Deb Werksman, I offer my heartfelt thanks for their hard work. It’s a pleasure working with everyone. And last but not least, I am grateful to my agent, Nephele Tempest, for generously lending her wisdom and keeping me grounded without discouraging my dreams.
About the Author
Samantha Grace is the author of Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel and Lady Amelia’s Mess and a Half. It is her belief that everyone has a story worth remembering, and she cherishes her work with aging adults, immersing herself in their tales of eras gone by. She is happily writing her next book and loves blogging with fellow authors at Lady Scribes. Samantha is married to her best friend, strives to stay one step ahead of their two precocious offspring, and lives in Onalaska, Wisconsin.
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Lady Amelia’s Mess and a Half
by Samantha Grace
Jake broke her heart by leaving for the country after sharing a passionate kiss.
Lady Amelia broke his by marrying his best friend.
When she returns to town a widow—pursued by an infamous rake, Jake’s debauched brother, and just maybe by Jake himself—Lady Amelia will have a mess and a half on her hands.
A sparkling romp through the ton, Lady Amelia’s Mess and a Half delivers a witty Regency romance in which misunderstandings abound, reputations are put on the line, and the only thing more exciting than a scandal is true love.
“Clever, spicy, and fresh from beginning to end.”—Amelia Grey, award-winning author of A Gentleman Never Tells
“A delightfully witty romp seasoned with an irresistible dash of intrigue and passion. Samantha Grace is an author to watch!”—Shana Galen, award-winning author of Lord and Lady Spy
For more Samantha Grace, visit:
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New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
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And she’s been perfectly capable of keeping them… until now. When she’s threatened with exposure, she turns to investigator Benjamin Hazlit to keep catastrophe at bay. But the heat that explodes between them makes him a target too. In a dance between desire and disaster, it’s not always clear who is leading whom…
Praise for The Soldier:
“Captivating… Burrowes’s straightforward, sensual love story is intelligent and tender, rising above the crowd with deft dialogue and delightful characters.”—Publishers Weekly starred review
“There is a quiet, yet intense power to Burrowes’s simple prose and such depth of feelings that it will be difficult to forget this marvelous story.”—RT Book Reviews Top Pick of the Month, 4½ stars
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He’s always been trouble…
Trevelyan and Callie are childhood sweethearts with a taste for adventure. Until the fateful day her father discovers them embracing in the carriage house and in a furious frenzy drives Trevelyan away in disgrace…
Exactly the kind of trouble she’s never been able to resist…
Nine long, lonely years later, Trevelyan returns. Callie is shocked to discover that he can still make her blood race and fill her life with mischief, excitement, and scandal. He would give her the world, but he can’t give her the one thing she wants more than anything—himself…
For Trevelyan, Callie is a spark of light in a world of darkness and deceit. Before he can bear to say his last good-byes, he’s determined to sweep her into one last, fateful adventure, just for the two of them…
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Sophie Valentine knew placing an ad for a husband in the Farmer’s Gazette would bring her trouble—and she was right. When the darkly handsome, arrogantly charming Lazarus Kane shows up on her doorstep, the nosy residents of Sydney Dovedale are thrown into a gossiping tizzy. After all, it’s common knowledge that Sophie is a young lady In Need of Firmer Direction. But even Sophie isn’t so scandalous as to marry a complete stranger…is she?
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Lazarus Kane has been searching for Sophie half of his life. She may not remember him, but he could never forget her. But the past is a dangerous thing, and it’s best if his remains secret if he wants to tempt Sophie with…
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Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 31
