Verity’s Lie
by Grace Elliot
Charles Huntley, Lord Ryevale, infamous rogue… and government
agent.
In unsettled times, with England at war with France, Ryevale is
assigned to covertly protect a politician’s daughter, Miss Verity Verrinder. To
keep Verity under his watchful eye, Ryevale plots a campaign of seduction that
no woman can resist– except it seems, Miss Verrinder. In order to gain her
trust Ryevale enters Verity’s world of charity meetings and bookshops…where the
unexpected happens and he falls in love with his charge.
When Lord Ryevale turns his bone-melting charms on her, Verity
questions his lordship’s motivation. But with her controlling father abroad,
Verity wishes to explore London and reluctantly accepts Ryevale’s
companionship. As the compelling attraction between them strengthens, Verity is
shattered to learn her instincts are correct after all – and Ryevale is not
what he seems. If Lord Ryevale can lie, then so can she…but
with disastrous
consequences.
~ * ~
Excerpt:
Verity closed the library door and wilted. With toe-curling embarrassment she recalled
her prudish disapproval and cringed afresh.
Why couldn't she have appeared worldly and calm, instead of behaving
like a stuttering, prissy schoolgirl.
And why Lord Ryevale, of all people?
If she hadn't been distracted by plans to confront her father, then she
wouldn't have been caught so off guard.
Verity took comfort in that it was unlikely their paths would cross
again.
Clutching Cicero against her chest like a shield, Verity composed
her thoughts before facing her father, then made for the garden. The root of her discomfort lay in noticing
Lord Ryevale earlier that evening. When
he arrived, the atmosphere had changed tangibly; women became more vivacious
and men bristled defensively. He moved
with the self-assurance of a pack leader and, when he passed close by, a wicked
smile quirked across his intriguing lips—and Verity didn't usually notice
mouths. But more alarming still were his
eyes—nut brown and intense—and when he had glanced in her direction, she felt as
if he could read her mind. Shaken, she
wondered if she had inherited her mother's weakness for the opposite sex, a
sobering thought that worried her.
From his wide chest and broad shoulders, to the square jaw and
strong cheekbones, Ryevale filled her mind; so when she had received her
father's note to fetch his copy of Cicero, she had welcomed the excuse to leave
the ball and calm her wits. That was,
until she opened the library door to find the man she was running from in a
compromising position with another man's wife.
After three laps of the garden, her cheeks had cooled and her mind
felt more ordered.
Tonight she would seize the moment; before her father left on
business, she would appeal for more freedom.
Her speech planned out, she was ready to face him.
Verity hurried along the corridor, pausing outside the study door to
straighten her hair. This was it: now or never.
She knocked and, at a gruff acknowledgment from the other side, entered.
Between the gloomy room and being a little nearsighted, it took
Verity a moment to assimilate three men were present: her father, the prime
minister and a figure in the shadows.
"Father. Lord
Liverpool." She squinted, trying to
identify their guest. As Ryevale stepped
forward, her pulse hit a crescendo. Alarm
fluttered in her breast, threatening her ability to breathe. "My lord." How her voice held steady, she had no idea.
"Good evening."
He stood at ease, which irritated her. Why did her wits scatter like pigeons before
a cat when he smiled in that bone-melting way?
Annoyed at herself, she answered his smile with a glare before turning
to her father. "Your book, Father."
"Ah, Verity. Thank
you."
Her father took a cursory glance at the spine then set the Cicero
aside.
Verity longed to escape, to be able to breathe and to release the
tension swelling in her chest.
"If that's all, I won't intrude further." She felt Ryevale's gaze, hot against her
skin, and some unnamed sensation coiled and tightened inside.
"Ah, Verity, let me introduce my guest."
"We've already met," she replied tartly.
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~ * ~
Author bio
and links:
Grace Elliot leads a double life as a veterinarian by day and
author of historical romance by night. Grace lives near London and is
passionate about history, romance and cats! She is housekeeping staff to five
cats, two sons, one husband and a bearded dragon (not necessarily listed in
order of importance). “Verity’s Lie” is Grace’s fourth novel.
Subscribe to Grace’s quarterly newsletter here: http://bit.ly/V7T6Jd
Grace’s blog ‘Fall in Love With History’ http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com
Grace on Twitter: @Grace_Elliot
Grace’s author page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Grace-Elliot/e/B004DP2NSU/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
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