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.
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Grace’s blog ‘Fall in Love With
History’ http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com
Grace on Twitter: @Grace_Elliot
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