The
Harlot Countess
Wicked Deceptions # 2
Wicked Deceptions # 2
By: Joanna Shupe
Releasing April 28th, 2015
Zebra
Blurb
Lady Hawkins’s debut was something
she’d rather forget—along with her first marriage. Today, the political
cartoonist is a new woman. A thoroughly modern woman. So much so that her
clamoring public believes she’s a man…
FACT:
Drawing under a male pseudonym, Maggie is known as Lemarc. Her (his!)
favorite object of ridicule: Simon Barrett, Earl of Winchester. He’s a rising
star in Parliament—and a former confidant and love interest of Maggie’s who
believed a rumor that vexes her to this day.
FICTION:
Maggie is the Half-Irish Harlot who seduced her best friend’s husband on
the eve of their wedding. She is to be feared and loathed as she will lift her
skirts for anything in breeches.
Still
crushed by Simon’s betrayal, Maggie has no intention of letting the ton crush
her as well. In fact, Lemarc’s cartoons have made Simon a laughingstock…but now
it appears that Maggie may have been wrong about what happened years ago, and
that Simon has been secretly yearning for her since…forever. Could it be that
the heart is mightier than the pen and the sword after all?
After what seemed an
eternity, Simon saw his opening. The group around Maggie thinned so he moved in
to hover at her elbow. She glanced up, the green gaze sharpening behind the
mask, and he saw her shoulders stiffen. Blue peacock feathers twitched and
bounced as she turned to excuse herself. When her companions departed, she
said, “Lord Winchester. This is a surprise.”
“Good evening, Lady
Hawkins.” He quickly made the introductions and, despite her apparent displeasure
at Simon’s
presence, Maggie fussed over the legendary Duke and Duchess of Colton.
“I am so pleased you both
came,” Maggie said with an elegant curtsey. “I’ve longed to meet you
both for ages.”
“Likewise,” Julia
returned. “The performance was inspired, and I adore your costume. Are you
Amphitrite?”
“No. I am the humble
Naiad Daphne.”
“Ah, but she gives Apollo
a merry chase,” Colton noted. “A formidable woman if there ever was one.”
“All women are
formidable, Your Grace—or
haven’t you
realized yet?”
“He is well aware of that
fact. I taught him never to underestimate a woman.” Julia raised her brows at
Colton as if daring him to contradict her.
“Quite true,
Duchess,”
the duke responded with a smirk.
“Who designed your chalk
drawings?” Julia motioned toward the dance floor. “They are simply
breathtaking.”
“Thank you. They were
done by an artist of my acquaintance.”
The group turned to study
the drawings now being trampled underfoot by the dancers. “Magnificent,” Julia
said. “It’s
almost a pity to ruin them.”
Simon shot Colton a look
over Julia’s
head. Knowing each other since boyhood meant no words were necessary, and
Colton instantly offered his arm to his wife. “Well, lovely or not, shall we
dance?”
Maggie’s lips curved when the
duke and duchess departed. “That was nicely orchestrated, Lord Winchester.
Dukes at your command. Parliament at your feet. I am anxious for your next
triumph. Shall I call back the crowd?”
“Not very subtle of me,
but I did wish to speak with you. If you had not refused to see me this week .
. .”
“Yes, I have no doubt
this is the last place you wish to find yourself this evening.”
Absolutely correct, though he would never
admit it. “You would be wrong. I’ve
been quite entertained, in fact.”
“Then I shall consider
tonight a success.”
“From what I’m told, all your parties
are successful. Is it true you once had actual tigers?”
Her green irises sparkled like emeralds. “A
bit of an exaggeration. One tiger and he was quite tame. Most of the guests
were disappointed, I think.”
The uniqueness of her
beauty struck him, as it always had. Pitch-colored, glossy hair. Creamy skin
without a blemish or mark. Full, pink lips. There was no woman on earth like
Maggie. He’d
known it the first time he clapped eyes on her—as had any number of other men,
if the rumors of her numerous affaires were true. “The duchess was correct. You are quite
beautiful this evening.” His tone was sharper than it ought to be when paying a
compliment, and he nearly winced.
Her look turned
measuring. “Thank you, though I might catch my death if I do not change out of
my wet clothes.” She picked up the skirts of her dress, showed him the soaked
fabric. Instantly, he was transfixed by the vision of her shapely leg covered
in damp, transparent silk. His blood began to simmer. He wanted to feel her, to
hold her . . . to run his tongue over the smooth knob of her ankle. A
monumental mistake, if he allowed it, though desire was hardly ever logical.
Nevertheless, what came
out of his mouth surprised even him. “Reminds me of the time I taught you to
ice skate. Do you recall, at the Serpentine? The hem of your dress became damp
and you nearly froze.”
She blinked up at him. “I
haven’t
thought of that outing in quite some time. That was a . . . nice day.”
“Yes, it was.” The urge
to touch her worsened, a strange ache at the fond memories. “Will you dance
with me?”
“Oh, I never dance.”
“Why not? You like to
dance. At least, you did.”
She lifted a shoulder.
“Dancing bores me to tears. Besides, it’s the sort of thing done at respectable
parties.”
“Oh, the horror,” Simon
drawled.
Her lips thinned. “Mock
if you must, but I am no longer the girl you once knew—and I have no desire to
become her ever again.”
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/03/the-harlot-countess-wicked-deceptions-2.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22715901-the-harlot-countess?from_search=true Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/130734-wicked-deceptions
Author
Info
Award-winning author JOANNA SHUPE has
always loved history, ever since she saw her first Schoolhouse Rock cartoon.
While in college, Joanna read every romance she could get her hands on and soon
started crafting her own racy historical novels. She now lives in New Jersey
with her two spirited daughters and dashing husband.
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