Hamish Doherty, Earl Leighton is having a terrible Season. A portion of his home burned to the ground, he was attacked outside a gaming hell, and a debutante he cannot stomach is determined they’ll wed. It’s enough to make any lord head for the hills, but his luck turns worse in the country. A large unpaid bill at an inn and a missing purse later, he’s ready to concede defeat to the fickle Fates – until rescue unexpectedly comes from an intoxicatingly beautiful stranger.
As the daughter of a successful tradesman, Miss Katherine Martin has no time for peers and their problems. However there is something about this handsome and yet unlucky earl, and when their paths cross again, Lord Leighton offers to repay his debt to her in any way she pleases. Katherine decides one night in his arms will be just right, and yet as two kindred souls find passion together, it seems one night won’t be enough. But can a woman of no rank and trade in her blood be enough to Tempt an Earl?
To Tempt an Earl is the 3rd book in my Lords of London series. This series is currently being produced into audio and I'm now looking to have it translated into multiple languages.
It was, without question, the worst week of Lord Hamish Doherty, Earl Leighton’s life. He lay sprawled on the main floor of the Two Toads Inn, near the Berkshire border. His eyes watered as pain ricocheted through his face, blood pouring from his nose, that no amount of dabbing with his handkerchief would halt. So much for his unblemished profile, the ladies of the ton would be most upset to see that his nose was now a little crooked.
“I told ye, no matter who ye think ye are, if ye can’t pay ye debt, I’ll belt the money out of ye,” the proprietor growled, his bulky frame distinctly menacing.
Hamish swiped at his nose, searching his pockets again for his purse, which was regretfully missing. Where the hell was it? He had it when he arrived three days past, had tipped the busty barmaid a gold coin after a very thorough servicing of his room, but after that his memory was hazy.
He'd gone for a ride yesterday to visit his good friend the Duke of Athelby at Ruxdon house, but with no need of funds there, he’d left his purse in the room. A stupid error of judgement considering the state his nose was now in.
Pushing away a surge of anger, he replied calmly, “This is merely a misunderstanding. I have funds. I left them in my room.”
“Are ye saying that they’ve been stolen? That my inn is an establishment that allows such theft from those who stay under its roof?”
The publican wacked the wooden baton against his hand, a sure sign that would replace the fist that smacked into his nose a moment ago. Hamish looked about the room and cringed that he was now the centre of attention of other guests who were privy to his humiliation. No doubt he’d be the on dit all over town next week once they knew who he was.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Evelyn T M Martins
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Author review: Great translation, good communication. A pleasure to work with. Highly recommend. |
