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Comment to enter to win a digital copy of LOVE BETWEEN THE LINES by Kate Rothwell!

Danger won’t deter this intrepid reporter—even when life and love are on the line.

Sir Gideon Langham wants the best for his flagship newspaper. Hiring daring female reporter Lizzie Drury, aka “Trudy Tildon,” seems like a smart decision—until he finds himself falling for her.  He knows she’ll risk everything to get a story, including one that puts her life in danger.

Lizzie longs to write real, in-depth articles. When handsome Sir Gideon offers her a job as more than a stringer, she reluctantly leaves her New York beat for unfamiliar London. But as she pursues a murder investigation, ghosts from her past become all too real. Digging up dirt attracts the attention of powerful forces who won’t hesitate to stop Lizzie dead. Hanging in the balance are Gideon’s reputation—and Lizzie’s life. In a race to find a killer, Lizzie and Gideon must learn to trust each other…before it’s too late.

Here’s a sample from the first chapter.  (The book contains something of His Girl Friday meets Nellie Bly.)

 

Chapter One

1883 New York, New York

By ten a.m., the ragged diner near the docks had finished its morning rush. Gideon pulled out a seat at a table, dragging the chair over the sawdust-strewn floor. He nodded at Brinker, his man, who reluctantly took a seat across from him.

The look and smell of the place reminded Gideon of his native Liverpool and brought him back to his days as a waterfront reporter.

Though Gideon almost enjoyed the scent of low living and mud, Brinker made it clear he did not. Those elegant nostrils flared as a brute of a worker pushed past their table on his way to the counter. No doubt the diner customer stank of tar and river sludge like nearly every man on the docks.

Poor Brinker. The gentleman’s personal gentleman made it clear he thought Gideon occasionally sullied his recently acquired elevation in life.

In Gideon’s opinion, the wrong man had come into a title—even if it was a puny title hardly worth a mention. Brinker, with his impeccable manners and reverence for Debrett’s, should have been the new baronet.

The brute returned from the counter, a cup of coffee clutched in a fist the size of a cannonball. He found a table near the door and glowered through the grimy window at the world outside. Then his frown faded—for a brief moment, his mouth twitched into a smile. Gideon twisted to see what had caused the fleeting response. The hulk watched a man and a woman as they entered the restaurant. The big man’s fleeting smile had to be for the young female.

The girl had a slender figure and wore an unfashionable green gown that must have been made for a larger woman. Her light brown hair was sliding from the bun at the back of her head. She looked the picture of the worn traveler just off one of the ships. Yet she was attractive enough—one of those girls fresh from the country, he supposed, with clear skin and large blue eyes that sparkled with excitement.

She carried a portmanteau and nervously picked her way around the empty tables and chairs, following her companion. The thin gentleman led her to a table in the quiet far corner across the room from the bulky worker.

The girl newly arrived in the big city, taking it all in.

She was taken in as well, Gideon suspected, as he examined the man she accompanied. Something about the overdressed man seemed far too slick. It wasn’t just his waxed mustaches, or the suit shiny at the elbows and garishly tight trousers. He wore the natural ebullience of a salesman selling something more dangerous than snake oil. Gideon saw other signs of danger. The man hadn’t traveled with her, wasn’t truly a companion, or he’d be carrying that bag of hers. And there was the undeniable fact that a girl that young and pretty didn’t belong in this place.

Gideon straightened up. The ever-alert Brinker shuffled his own chair slightly to move out of the way and to get a better view himself.

Under his mustaches, the dark-haired thin man scowled at Gideon, who half shrugged in return. The man picked up his mug of deplorable coffee, pulled the newspaper from his overcoat pocket, and pretended to read.

A public place. That man wouldn’t try anything here, would he? Gideon got out his pad and pencil and sketched a profile of the man. The eyetooth that slightly overlapped the one next to it. The nose that ended too soon and the smile that took up just a bit too much of his face under the mustache.

He wished he could move his chair so he’d see the girl better. The side view was in darkness. From his stealthy glances, he saw she was even more attractive than he’d first thought, though perhaps not as young. And somehow she had a familiar look to her. She must remind him of someone. A girl back in England? Someone’s sweet younger sister he’d met on school holiday?

She laughed at something the thin man said. But there was nothing suggestive in that laughter or in the enchanting large eyes—only the innocent flirtation of a sheltered girl.

She excused herself and apparently wasn’t so completely the lost lamb, because she took her bag with her.

Gideon held up his newspaper but peered around the edge. The girl’s thin companion was stirring her coffee. Hers. And then he quickly slipped something into his pocket. A screw of paper, perhaps.

Gideon leaned close to Brinker and muttered, “I think he’s done something to her drink.”

Brinker would never heave a sigh, but perhaps he gave an exhalation that was slightly deeper than usual. Gideon had been about to leave the café, but now he stayed in his chair. Waiting. Watching, while pretending to read.

In the far corner, the big brute had finished his coffee and had pulled his workman’s cap down, covering part of his face. He appeared to be dozing, yet something about his shoulders seemed too tense. Was he in league with the oily man?

After the girl returned, she carefully pushed her satchel under the table and sat. She raised her mug of coffee.

Gideon got to his feet, ready to speak even if he did sound like a fool. Hell, maybe it was poison. But before he could open his mouth, she put down the cup and he saw she’d drained it. He sat again and frowned at Brinker. Perhaps he’d only imagined the danger to the girl, but he’d take at least an hour to find out. He suspected that if the man had slipped a drug into her drink, it wouldn’t take long to work.

“Keep your eyes open, eh?” he told Brinker. Gideon shook out the paper and began to scan the articles. Most of them were just as lackadaisical as the stuff back home. All reports about reports, no immediacy. His excuse to travel to New York had been to find new blood for his papers. The list of possible hires grew shorter all the time.

“Sir,” Brinker murmured. Gideon folded up the paper at once.

The girl tottered to her feet. She swayed, hitting her table. A plate clattered to the floor and broke. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her words sounded slurred.

Gideon glanced around the room. Wasn’t anyone else going to do anything?

The big man wasn’t pretending to sleep. He’d pushed his cap back and even watched, but he had a bored look on his face. His arms were folded over his massive chest. The two apathetic waiters didn’t move. One leaned against the wall studying a racing form. The other dreamily smoked a cigar. Gideon had thought himself used to the indifference of a big city, but he was shocked by their lack of interest.

The girl reached down for her bag. When she straightened, she groaned. “Oh my.”

The thin man put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. She lurched and made a small protesting sound. He grinned around the restaurant, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Whoops. Long voyage,” he announced in a loud, overly cheery voice. He began to haul her toward the door. Her feet dragged every step as she stumbled along.

The man pulled her faster and spoke again to no one. “She’ll be just fine. We’ll get to the hotel—”

But Gideon had leapt from his chair and walked quickly in his direction. Brinker had already blocked the exit. “Let go of her,” Gideon said. “Now.”

The thin man growled. “Get away. It’s none of your affair.”

Gideon spoke in a loud voice, so everyone in the small restaurant could hear him. Damn them for not caring, but they’d be witnesses anyway. “No, I think it is. I saw what you did to her coffee.”

For a moment, the whole place froze as if everyone in the room, the two waiters, the big man in the corner, even the woman, held their breath.

With a grunt of a curse, the man pushed the woman hard in Gideon’s direction. He shoved the astonished Brinker out of the way and ran out the door.

Gideon reached for the girl to grab her as she fell. Her face slammed against his shoulder. She gave a yelp. And suddenly she wasn’t falling.

She was on her own two feet, glaring at him. “Darn, darn. Oh, damn it.” She twisted away. “Oyster. You follow him, right?”

The bruiser from the corner was already halfway out the door. “Right-o. But he’s fast. I still got the bum knee.”

“Good luck,” the girl said and watched him go. The door slammed behind him and she sighed.