Smitten by Books

Today we have two fantastic excerpts. Let me know if you’ve been hooked. And as a special treat, one lucky commenter will win an advance copy of Kate Noble’s FOLLOW MY LEAD!

Lucy Jones is a nobody. As an orphan she was reluctantly taken in by her wealthy relatives, the Arringtons, on the condition that she be silent and obedient, always. When her lifelong infatuation with her cousin Sebastian is rewarded by a proposal of marriage, she’s happy and grateful, even though the family finds excuses to keep the engagement a secret.

James Wright-Gordon has always had the benefits of money and a high station in society, but he is no snob. He’s very close to his sister, Anna, who quickly falls for the dashing Sebastian when the families are brought together at a wedding party. Meanwhile, James is struck by Lucy’s quiet intelligence, and drawn to her despite their different circumstances in life.

Lucy suspects that Sebastian has fallen for Anna, but before she can set him free, a terrible secret is revealed that shakes both families. Will James come to her rescue—or abandon her to poverty?
.

 

A MARRIAGE INCONVENIENCE by Susanna Fraser
Available April 11, 2011 from Carina Press


James knew quite well that he had merely had the wind knocked out of him, and that the young woman leaning over him was therefore no celestial being. Also, angels were generally represented as fair creatures, golden of hair and garbed in heavenly blue. Nothing angelic about deep brown eyes that fairly crackled with intelligence behind their momentary anxiety, nor about those dark curls peeping from beneath a scarlet cloak.

Yet for all that, the girl was an angel. He smiled lazily at her.

Her brows drew together slightly, which only served to further highlight her deep-set, expressive eyes.

“Sir, are you injured?”

Her voice was clear and melodious. Angelic, even.

“Nothing worse than bruises, I trust, miss,” he assured her.

“Do you think you can rise?”

The angel could not possibly realize she had committed a double entendre. Sweet-faced and innocent, she was no older than Anna and likely a little younger. She spoke in the soft, cultured tones of a gentlewoman.

But he allowed himself an inward smile nonetheless. “I trust I can,” he said, pushing himself up to a sitting position with a slight wince. He had landed on his left shoulder, and it pained him when he moved.

She rocked back on her heels to maintain a correct distance between them, and the hood of her cloak fell back to reveal all her thick brown hair, which James knew must have begun the morning neatly coiled but was now wind-tossed.

“But you are injured, sir! I’m so very sorry.”

He blinked at her. “Whatever for?”

“I startled your horse.”

“Not deliberately, I trust, unless you have the power to summon the wind.”

Her lips twitched as though she wanted to smile but was uncertain of the propriety of such a course. “No, sir.”

“Well, then. You’ve no need to apologize. I’ve but a trifling pain in my shoulder, nothing more.” He glanced over the offending shoulder and spotted Ghost galloping down the valley, with Anna on Shade in close pursuit. “Ghost is uninjured as well, and giving my sister a chance to exhibit what a master equestrienne she is.”

“It must be a fine thing, to ride so well.”

The angel’s voice was wistful, and James turned to look at her again. “Are you a horsewoman, miss?”

“I never had the opportunity to learn.”

He studied her more closely. Her simple dress and cloak were well made, but without the fashionable line and elegance that marked the work of an expensive London modiste. She must come of family genteel enough to see its daughters educated, but not wealthy enough to keep a stable. She couldn’t be Lord Almont’s intended, as he had first suspected, and he rejoiced that this pretty innocent wasn’t to be the bride of a foolish lord almost old enough to be her grandfather.

~*~*~

Jason Cummings, Duke of Rayne is feeling the weight of his responsibilities – one of which is to get married. Being the most sought after bachelor in London can be trying, so who can blame him if he seeks refuge from the voracious hordes of young debutantes at the decidedly female-free Historical Society? Female-free, that is, until Winnifred Crane marches up to the door, demanding entrance.

Despite her prowess as a historian, Winn is denied membership the Society. So she daringly offers an unusual bargain: if she can prove the authenticity of a certain painting, she’ll be granted recognition, fame, and respect. But to do that, she must go abroad. And to go abroad, she must have an escort, even a stubbornly unwilling one…

Jason has no desire to accompany Winn on her adventure across Europe, but even he is not immune to Winn’s passion for her profession. As the journey proves more difficult than planned, they must work together to stay one step ahead of their rivals…. and the closer they get to the proof Winn seeks, the closer she and Jason become. But as their adventure turns dangerous, can Jason keep this headstrong bluestocking safe? And what will become of their growing bond when the adventure ends?

FOLLOW MY LEAD by Kate Noble
Available May 3, 2011 from Berkley Sensation

The taproom of the Stellzburg Inn was full of life. Life that had eluded Winn up until this time. The energy and excitement that was not found in a library. Travelers, mostly men, and mostly strangers to each other, were drinking, laughing. The innkeeper, his wife, and their servers threaded themselves through the crowd, delivering drinks and food with smiles, and sometimes a wry comment that made the customers laugh.

But it was all perfectly aboveboard. Respectable even.

Somewhat disappointing, that.

“For a minute there you looked blissfully happy, so how is it I rejoin you and you’re wearing a frown?” Jason asked as he returned to the table. “Er . . .  you have foam on your nose.”

“Oh!” Winn said as she turned bright red. Jason reached in his pocket but came up empty.

“Damn,” he said, handing her a cloth napkin from their table. “I keep forgetting these are not my own clothes and my handkerchiefs are not where I expect them to be. No, you missed.” He indicated her face.

She wiped again but must have missed the offending foam again, because Jason took the napkin from her hand and, cupping her chin, wiped the end of her nose gently. “There, you’re perfect. Now, why were you scowling before?”

“I was?” she asked, her face remarkably hot. Must be the beer, she decided. “Oh, I was reflecting.”

“Reflecting?” he asked, bemused. “On what, pray tell?”

“That reality rarely lives up to expectations.” At his quizzical expression, she continued. “I thought the taproom of an inn would be . . .  bawdier. More like a public house.”

Jason turned completely still. “You’ve been to a public house?”

“No, but I’ve seen illustrations,” she argued. “Someone playing a fast fiddle in the corner, barmaids with their breasts spilling out. Also, I would like to have some illusions preserved. But here we are in the German countryside, and I have not even seen one pair of lederhosen,” she finished mournfully.

Jason threw back his head in laughter, his deep- throated guffaws drawing the attention that Winn’s hesitant giggle had not.

“Expectations are a heavy lot. Perhaps we can find you some lederhosen in Nuremberg. But for now, just be happy that we are amongst actual Germans.”

“Why?” she asked, her eyebrow going up.

“Because they are logical enough to bring us— and charge us for— only one and a half plates of food.” He smiled.

“Thank you,” she replied with a nod of acknowledgement.

And it was not some few minutes later that the innkeeper himself brought over their food— smelling so good and buttery that Winn for a few seconds considered that maybe she could have made use of a full plate.

“Danke,” she said to the innkeeper in anticipation of being served her eagerly awaited meal. Jason casually put his arm around her back, some proprietary instinct letting the innkeeper infer they were indeed coupled.

“Bitte.” The innkeeper smiled back at them. Strange, for the first time since they had met, the innkeeper’s stern countenance had fled, lending him a sort of elfin charm. “I hope you are enjoying yourselves, yes?” he continued in English, still holding the food on his tray.

“Yes,” “Very much,” she and Jason replied in turn.

“Four days married.” The innkeeper shook his head with a smile.

“Five tomorrow,” Jason said, his voice straining on the lie. “That tray looks terribly heavy,” he continued, practically salivating— for which Winn could not blame him. “You should set it down . . .”

But the innkeeper was lost in his own line of thought to even consider placing the tray of food in front of two famished customers. “I remember when I was four days married! My wife— she was so young and lovely we did not emerge from our rooms for the whole week!”

“Er, right,” Winn piped up. “But we were a bit hungry, you see . . .  from all the . . .  staying in. So if you could— ”

Then the innkeeper turned and addressed the whole room in his booming voice in German. The room gave a solid cheer and then began clapping in time, chanting the same word. The last one the innkeeper had said to them: “Kuss.”

“What on earth?” Winn asked, utterly confused.

“He told the room we are newlyweds,” Jason whispered to her and then hesitated. “And then he said that . . .  oh, just follow my lead.”

And he leaned down and kissed her.