The
Lady Hellion
Wicked Deceptions # 3
Wicked Deceptions # 3
By: Joanna Shupe
Releasing May 26, 2015
Zebra
Blurb
A Marquess’ daughter, Lady Sophia Barnes doesn’t
take no for an answer. Especially when she’s roaming London’s seedy
underground…dressed as a man.
A
rabble rouser for justice, Sophie’s latest mission is to fight for the rights
of the poor, the wretched—and the employees at Madame Hartley’s brothel. She’s
not concerned about the criminals who will cross her path, for Sophie has
mastered the art of deception—including the art of wearing trousers. Now her
fate is in her own hands, along with a loaded gun. All she needs is instruction
on how to shoot it. But only one person can help her: Lord Quint, the man who
broke her heart years ago. The man she won’t let destroy her again…
The
last thing Damien Beecham, Viscount Quint, needs is an intrusion on his
privacy, especially from the beautiful, exasperating woman he’s never stopped
wanting. A woman with a perilously absurd request, no less! For Damien is
fighting a battle of his own, one he wishes to keep hidden—along with his
feelings for Lady Sophia. Yet that fight is as hopeless as stopping her
outlandish plan. Soon all Quint knows for certain is that he will die trying to
protect her…
Does it feel better
with your shoes off?”
He glanced down at
his bare feet. Hard to say when it had started, this preference for the cold
marble floor beneath his naked feet, but it helped him feel alive. A
true gentleman would never be seen without shoes, yet Quint wasn’t about to put them
back on. If she found it offensive, she was welcome to scuttle home. “It feels . . . bracing. As if the cold
roots your legs to the floor. You should try it one day.”
She lifted her
plain skirts to reveal brown half boots with black laces. Bending, she pulled
the laces loose, then stood and started toeing off her shoes. Quint watched
this with a mixture of fascination and horror. Was the woman truly going to
remove her footwear? Propriety had never concerned him, but even he knew
this was beyond the pale.
Two soft thuds and
her stocking feet made an appearance. His heart kicked hard in his chest, and
this time it had nothing to do with fear. Encased in thin stockings, her feet
were small and delicate. She wriggled her toes and sighed, a sound that caused
heat to unfurl in his groin.
Tools of bipedal
locomotion,
he told himself and snapped his gaze to the gardens. Nothing more. They were
functional appendages that should in no way be tempting. He should not be
thinking of running his tongue along the smooth instep . . . or wondering how
the soft underside would feel as it slid along the backs of his thighs—
“I wish I could remove my stockings,” she murmured. “But even this feels heavenly.”
Quint swallowed
hard and crossed his arms over his chest. The image of her sliding stockings
down her bare legs was too erotic to dwell on—not if he didn’t want an obvious
erection frightening her. “I am not surprised.
Traipsing through the mews of Mayfair is exhausting business.”
“Indeed it is,” she returned cheerfully.
“Why have you returned, Sophie?”
She stared at her
toes, moving them back and forth, clearly hesitating. No doubt attempting to
fabricate a reason because she didn’t want to tell him the real one.
“The truth,” he said.
“It seemed a nice night for a stroll.
You are generally up late, so I thought I’d see if you were still awake.”
He snorted. No lady
strolled by herself in the middle of the night. “You are aware I live alone. That this
is a bachelor’s
residence?”
“Should I be worried? Are you planning
to chain me to your bed and ravish me at your whim?”
He strove not to
combine the words “ravish” and “Sophie” in his head; the idea only served to
remind him of what he could never have. “Indeed. Merely allow me to remove the
other woman there first.”
She chuckled. “That’s one thing hardly
anyone realizes about you, how amusing you are.”
Only she would
believe that. Amusing was not a word anyone had ever used to describe him. Odd,
strange, and aloof
were far more likely. “Not everyone
appreciates my humor.”
“Admit you are fond of the dog, Quint.”
Never. “Did you know the Romans sent mastiffs
into battle wearing armor in order to attack the enemy?”
She sighed,
irritated with his evasion, and he hid a smile. “As always,” she said, dryly, “you are a wealth of information.”
“Actually, I find myself quite in the
dark these days.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Oh? About what?”
“I cannot think of a single reason you
should be sallying about London in the dead of night, dressed as a man, even if
to visit the Thames Police Office. Would you care to enlighten me?”
“How . . .” She crossed her arms and thrust up her
chin. “Are you having me
followed?”
“Yes—and you should hardly be surprised. If
any woman in the history of England ever needed constant supervision, you are
she.”
“The driver. I should have known.” She rubbed her forehead. “I cannot fathom your audacity. You
have no right to oversee my activities, and furthermore I am doing quite fine
on my own.”
“Only because no one gets a good enough
look at you. How anyone could mistake you for a man is beyond comprehension.
You are a hair’s
breadth away from the scandal of the decade, Sophie.”
“And you are wasting your time if you
think to stop me.”
“I never said I wanted to stop you. If
I did, I would write to your father and inform him of what I know.” He held up a hand as panic clouded her
face. “I will not do so
unless I feel you are in immediate danger. But that does not mean it’s wise for you to
do this. Therefore, I’ve
hired someone to drive you about and ensure your continued safety—no matter what you are wearing. But
what I do not understand is why you are posing as Sir Stephen in the
first place.”
He didn’t think she’d answer, the
silence stretched so long. “You’ll laugh,” she said quietly.
“I sincerely doubt it. Tell me, Sophie.”
“I’ve fallen into a
bit of a . . . diversion,” she explained with
a wave of her hand. “I investigate things.
For people—women—with no other resort. Prostitutes,
servants, and the like. It started when my maid, Alice, her sister was accused
of stealing the flatware in the house in which she worked. After I figured that
one out, someone else came to ask for help and it kept going from there. We
found I had an easier time dressed as a man, not to mention people took me more
seriously.”
Though he wished
such treatment were not the case, he did not doubt her. Women were not afforded
the same accessibility as men in any culture. Still, this hardly set his mind
at ease.
“Investigating. And here I thought you
were not in immediate danger. It’s
even worse than I feared.”
“It is not!” She stamped her foot. “I’m helping people.
And I am careful.”
“Yes,” he scoffed. “Duels. Standing in as MacLean’s second. Visits to
gaming hells.”
She pinned him with
a hard look. “You are
surprisingly well informed for a man who never leaves his house.”
“Shocking, is it not? Yet I remain
current on all your antics. What do you think that means?”
“I could not begin to guess.”
“It means,” he said with all due seriousness, “that if I could learn of it, others
could learn as well. Which is why I hired someone to protect you. God, Sophie.
Do you know what could happen to you in a brothel? You could be dragged into
any nook or empty room and be forced to do unspeakable things. Things a woman
like you should never know about.”
“A woman like me.” She let out a brittle laugh, and he
could see the flush of anger on her cheeks. “You have no idea what sort of a woman
I am, what I know or do not know. And I do not require a guard. You are not my
father, Quint, nor my husband.”
A well-placed blow,
and he felt it keenly, his body tensing. He gave her a stiff nod. “Indeed, I am not. But that does not
mean, as a friend, I do not feel responsible for your welfare.”
“Why?”
“Because if your repeated visits to my
house are any indication, you seem to care for mine.”
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/03/the-lady-hellion-wicked-deceptions-3-by.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22891428-the-lady-hellion?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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