By Julie Anne Long
Unique ebook: 2006
SHOCKING! London's belle of the ball, Susannah Makepeace, is the final one that may still without notice be caught within the sleepy village of Barnstable. on the town, she may by no means have obvious a guy swimming bare in a pond. and he or she definitely might have resisted the urge to attract each little bit of him in magnificent element! scorching! only a few humans be aware of that Viscount package Whitelaw is the simplest secret agent in His Majesty's mystery provider. yet his high-flying lifestyles has ultimately banished him from London. to not worry#151;if Susannah's erotic sketches are any indication of her nature, she'll be a scrumptious stand-in for the joys of espionage. SCANDALOUS! while peculiar injuries stick to in Susannah's wake, Kit's undercover agent senses commence tingling. For what higher secret is there for England's maximum secret agent than the secrets and techniques of the delectable puzzle that's Susannah?
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Extra info for Beauty and the Spy (Holt Sisters Trilogy, Book 1)
That amusement was a fragile, delicate thing, as insubstantial as moonlight on water. He held his breath, waiting. But she dispelled it with a shake of her head. “It’s too familiar. People will say—” She stopped, and ran one hand down the serviceable fabric of her dress. ” He shrugged to hide his appalled reaction. Miss Lowell had fire. She had intelligence. She had an almost haunting beauty. And yet she wouldn’t reach above what she saw as her station? What a monstrous waste. Whoever was in that locket had a lot to answer for.
It did not augur well for her future. What would happen when he brought this smiling bonhomie to bear on the members of the House of Lords who would decide the question of legitimacy? Richard might scream and protest and threaten, but it was not often the lords got to choose their own members. Had she no personal stake in the matter, she would have chosen Mr. Turner, too. She stared grimly ahead of her. Her soup was replaced with creamed peas; peas were followed by fresh-caught fish, and fish by roast beef.
But halfway to the village, the sullen summer silence was marred by hoofbeats. Hoofbeats were not a good sign. Margaret pulled her bonnet ribbons about her chin. With her brothers gone, only the Turners would be about on horseback, riding on Parford land. And somehow, she didn’t imagine that Mr. Mark Turner—gentle, sweet Mark who wrote about chastity—had sought her out. That would have been too easy. The horse cantered into view, coming around a bend in the hedge. Of course it had to be the elder of the two brothers.