The Infidelity Curse
Perilous Secrets Book 3
by Barbara Monajem
Genre: Historical Romance
The
death of her cruel husband means freedom at last for Lucretia
Tifton—until she learns that the guardian he chose for her
longed-for baby is the latest in a line of earls known for separating
their children from unfaithful wives. The elusive new earl is certain
to hear the gossip about Lucretia. Will he believe it and prove to be
as heartless as his ancestors?
Giles,
the Earl of Netherbroke, wants nothing more than to work in his
London shop, building furniture with beautiful marquetry finishes. If
unexpectedly inheriting the earldom isn’t bad enough, now he’s
saddled with an unwanted guardianship. What’s worse, the baby’s
mother is the loveliest woman he’s ever seen.
Giles
is almost certain Lucretia is an adulteress—and the more he learns
about her, the more he understands why she might have betrayed her
husband. Nevertheless, he is determined not to succumb, like his
ancestors, to the Infidelity Curse.
But
then Lucretia is suddenly in danger, and the only way to protect her
is to make her his.
Setup:
At the reading of Sir Matthew Tifton’s will, all is going well, except for the
unpleasant presence of Sir Matthew’s nephew, Mr. Welton, who has already
disrupted the proceedings twice. And then…
“There
remains the question of guardianship, which is somewhat unusual,” Mr. Briggs,
the solicitor, said.
Oh,
God.
Lucretia hadn’t thought of that.
“Sir
Matthew appointed the Earl of Netherbroke as guardian of his child.” He paused.
“Also as trustee, jointly with myself.”
“What
the devil? I am meant to be the guardian!” Mr. Welton sprang up. “And the sole
trustee, damn you!”
“Mr.
Welton, if you cannot restrain yourself,” Mr. Briggs said, “Lady Tifton will be
obliged to ask her footman to remove you.”
“Pah!
She wouldn’t dare,” Welton said, “not with what I know about her.” He jabbed an
accusing finger at Lucretia.
She
shrank away. What could he possibly know? She’d never done anything
wrong, except . . .
Welton
couldn’t know about Johnny Magee. He lived in London and was nowhere near
Sussex when the baby was conceived.
“Who,”
Noelle demanded, “is the Earl of Netherbroke?”
“He
is an elderly peer who lives in Gloucestershire,” Lucretia said. “Sir Matthew
and the Earl of Netherbroke were enthusiastic medal collectors. They met once
at an auction and corresponded for a short while well over a year ago. Sir
Matthew’s passion for marquetry was due to the Earl’s influence. I suppose my
husband decided, judging by a brief acquaintance and some expensive furniture from
the shop the Earl recommended, that the Earl would make a suitable guardian.”
Fury swelled within her, but she strove to keep it from her voice. Surely a
doddering earl was better than horrid Mr. Welton.
Mr.
Briggs nodded. “Most likely due to his position in society.”
“Society
be damned. My uncle feared for his life and the safety of his child.” Welton’s
spittle flew. “He knew his precious wife had cuckolded him over and over, and
then she tried to poison him with her noxious brews. What sort of mother would
she be?”
Aghast,
Lucretia clapped a hand to her breast. “No, no! I made him tisanes of healing
herbs.” Her voice trembled. “He was ill. I tried to cure him!”
“Hah!
You would claim that, wouldn’t you—but you don’t deny that you cuckolded
him.”
Before
Lucretia could gain control of her voice, he turned to Jellicoe, the valet.
“You know all about this, don’t you? Sir Matthew valued you. He confided in
you, didn’t he?”
“Yes,
sir, he did,” Jellicoe said. “He believed Lady Tifton was trying to kill him.
He feared the consequences to the child’s immortal soul if it was left to its
mother’s care.”
Welton
shook his fist at Lucretia. “You killed him because he was going to change his
will. No. More likely he had already changed it, using the services of a more competent
solicitor than this fellow. And then you burned it so no one would ever know.”
Lucretia
quailed, shaking her head. “No, that’s not true.”
“You’re
a whore and a murderess,” he shouted. “You may try to cozen the Earl of
Whatshisname, but you won’t succeed. I’ll do whatever it takes to see that he
takes the child away from you. You’ll be lucky if you don’t hang!”
A
dark cloud swept over Lucretia. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words
came, and she fainted dead away.
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Barbara Monajem grew up in western Canada. She wrote her first story in third grade about apple tree gnomes. After dabbling in neighborhood musicals and teen melodrama, she published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young. Now her kids are adults, and she writes historical and paranormal romance and mystery for grownups. She lives in Georgia, USA , with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and mostly feline strays.
2 comments:
Thank you for featuring The Infidelity Curse! :)
Thank you for featuring The Infidelity Curse. :)
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