Forever
Your Earl and Scandal Takes the StageThe
Wicked Quills of London # 1 & 2
By:
Eva Leigh
Avon
Romance
Publishing
with Avon on September 29, 2015
Eleanor
Hawke loves a good scandal. And readers of her successful gossip rag
live for the exploits of her favorite subject: Daniel Balfour, the
notorious Earl of Ashford. So when the earl himself marches into her
office one day and invites her to experience his illicit pursuits
firsthand, Eleanor is stunned. Gambling hells, phaeton races,
masquerades…What more could a scandal writer want than a secret
look into the life of this devilishly handsome rake?
Daniel
has secrets and if The Hawk’s Eye gets wind of them, a man’s life
could be at stake. And what better way to distract a gossip than by
feeding her the scandal she desperately craves? But Daniel never
expected the sharp mind and biting wit of the beautiful writer, and
their desire for each other threatens even his best laid plans.
But
when Eleanor learns the truth of his deception, Daniel will do
anything to prove a romance between a commoner and an earl could
really last forever.
Publishing with Avon on October 27, 2015
Successful
playwright Maggie Delamere has no interest in the flirtations of
noblemen like Cameron, Viscount Marwood. She once paid dearly for a
moment of weakness… and vows to rebuff the wildly persistent-and
irritatingly handsome-scoundrel at every turn.
But when pressure to
deliver a new play hampers her creativity, an invitation to use his
country estate as a writer’s retreat is too tempting to resist...
For
years, Cam has admired Maggie’s brilliant work and he can’t pass
up the opportunity to discover if the beautiful, mysterious
playwright is as passionate and clever as the words that flow from
her quill. He’s never offered a lady his bed without being in it,
but if it means loosening Maggie’s pen-and her inhibitions-he’ll
do exactly that.
But
soon Cam’s plans for seduction become a fight for Maggie’s heart.
He’s more than the scandalous, carefree rake society believes him
to be… and she’s the only woman who has ever noticed.
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FOREVER YOUR EARL
Chapter One
“Though London presents itself
to the world as the apotheosis of all that is moral and upstanding,
it might shock our readers to learn that the appearance of virtue can
be a very clever disguise. It is the opinion of this humble
periodical that wickedness and deception are far more common than our
readers may apprehend. Thus the necessity of this most respectful
scrap of writing—that we may, through the revelation of the
scandalous activities of our Town, provide necessary guidance.
But leading a life of probity may be difficult, especially when
presented with temptation…”
—from The
Hawk’s Eye, May 2,
1816
London, 1816
A man rich in wealth and scandal
walked into Eleanor Hawke's office.
Eleanor was no stranger to scandal.
Anything immoral, disreputable, shocking, or titillating made its way
into the pages of her newspaper—particularly if it involved the
wealthy and elite of London Society. She detailed all of it for
her thrice weekly publication, The
Hawk's Eye. Nobody
wanted to read about ordinary shopkeeper Mr. Jones who might or might
not be spending time with the humdrum widow Mrs. Smith.
No, The
Hawk's Eye sold
strictly on the basis that it published the latest scandalous doings
of Lord This and Lady That. All, of course, under the pretense
of decrying the lack of morals in this fair city, and that these
lurid activities ought to serve as object lessons to the young and
impressionable.
And it was Eleanor's job as owner
and publisher to see to the moral education of London.
Which was utter rubbish, naturally.
But scandal put bread on her table
and kept the rain off her head, and she readily immersed herself in
it—the spirit of free enterprise, and all that.
Still, when Daniel Balfour, the Earl
of Ashford himself walked into the offices of The
Hawk's Eye on a
Wednesday afternoon, blocking the gray light as the door opened and
closed, it was both shocking and inevitable that he should do so.
Unsurprisingly, he clenched several copies of her paper in his hand.
Lord Ashford marched through the
cramped warren of rooms, writers' heads lifting from where they bent
over their desks to watch in open-mouthed amazement as he passed.
Eleanor’s private office lay at the end of the corridor, giving her
an ample view of the scene as it played out before her.
The earl stopped in front of Harry
Welker's desk. The young writer stared up at the Lord Ashford,
the men separated not just by the expanse of battered oak, but
circumstance and birth.
“H…how might I help you,
my lord?” Harry asked, his voice cracking.
“Tell me where Mister E. Hawke
is.” Lord Ashford had a deep voice, rounded by generations of
excellent breeding and noblesse
oblige.
“Mister Hawke,
my lord?” patent confusion in his voice.
Lord Ashford pointed to one of the
papers he carried. “It says here that The
Hawk's Eye is owned
and published by one E.
Hawke. Where will I
find him?”
“Nowhere, my lord,” Harry
answered. “There's no Mister Hawke
here.”
The earl scowled, clearly not used
to being denied. “This scurrilous rag cannot publish
itself.”
“It doesn’t,” Eleanor
announced, setting aside her quill and standing. “If
you're looking for Miss Eleanor
Hawke, I’m right over here.”
Lord Ashford looked directly at her,
and for the first time, she had a sense of what a rabbit might feel
like when sited by a wolf. But she wasn't the only one at a
disadvantage. The earl couldn't hide the shock in his
expression when he discovered that the publisher and owner of the
paper was, in truth, a woman—which gave her a small measure of
gratification.
He turned from Harry without another
word and walked straight toward her. And she could only stand,
pinned by his gaze, as he approached.
The closer he got, the more she
realized how dangerous the earl was. Perhaps not in the
traditional sense—though she'd heard and written about the duels in
which he'd fought and won—but certainly in the realm of masculine
allure. Her few times seeing him were from a distance: the
theater, the races, at a public assembly. She knew him by
sight, but he didn’t know her, and they’d never met. And in
those instances her vision had been good enough to recognize that he
was a fine specimen, well-formed, handsome—everything a rich and
notorious nobleman should be.
SCANDAL TAKES THE STAGE
Chapter 1
Enter Phoebe, in country dress.
Phoebe: What a task I have set
before me!
The Shattered Heart
London, 1816
The curtain at the Imperial Theater
fell. The audience rose to its collective feet and applauded.
Standing in his theater box, adding
his own applause, Cameron Chalton, Viscount of Marwood was filled
with excitement. Much as Cam enjoyed the theater—he went
practically every night, and often saw the same work over and over,
enjoying it anew each time—half the pleasure came after the
performances.
“What say you, Marwood?” drawled
Lord Eberhart, one of Cam’s companions for the evening. “Gaming
at Donnegan’s? Shall we away to the rout at Lord Larkin’s? He’s
brought in a whole bevy of beauties from France just for the
occasion.”
“Why choose?” Cam answered with
a laugh. “The night’s in its infancy, and we can do anything at
all.”
“Good point.” Eberhart grinned.
He wasn’t the brightest star in the firmament, but ever since Cam’s
good friend Ashford had wed and settled into marital bliss, Cam
couldn’t afford to be as selective with his company. Besides,
Eberhart was always up for a night’s revelry. “Let’s go.”
“Not yet,” Cam answered,
watching the theater slowly empty.
The Imperial was smaller than the
other popular theaters in London, with only three tiers for seats and
boxes, plus a smaller pit and orchestra. Yet it wasn’t shabby. The
proprietors kept its appearance well. Painted plaster friezes
depicting scenes from mythology adorned the fronts of the boxes, and
blue velvet curtains draped the sides and top of the stage. Gas lamps
provided lighting.
The boxes now released their
occupants like tropical birds flying free of their cages. In the pit,
the younger, wilder set laughed and boasted, jostling one another,
flirting, arguing. Orange girls and women of fast reputation
circulated freely among the young men.
Cam’s status prevented him from
sitting in the pit anymore, but he missed it. The energy, the
rowdiness. Still, he couldn’t complain, not when he’d just
watched a performance of a work written by the celebrated and
mysterious Mrs. Delamere. Not when the evening opened up for him like
an endless banquet. One he would sample to his heart’s content. But
not quite at this moment.
“Tell you what, Eberhart,” Cam
continued, turning back to his companion. “I’ll meet you at
Donnegan’s, then we’ll sally forth from there onto Larkin’s.”
“Going to circulate?” Eberhart
said with a grin.
“This is my kingdom,” Cam
replied with a wink. “I must inevitably tour my realm. Inspect its
crops.”
“Of actresses.” His friend
leered.
Cam tilted his head in
acknowledgment. “Merely a part of my dominion.”
“Enjoy, Your Highness.” With a
chuckle, Eberhart slipped from the box and out into the night. Once
his friend had gone, Cam took one last minute to enjoy the theater’s
house as patrons continued to leisurely make their way. The thrills
from the performance still resonated in Cam’s body, palpable as
electricity crackling along his veins. Though he’d seen this
particular work several times, it never lost its excitement—the
soaring highs and resounding lows that came from watching characters’
love and loss. He especially loved how the heroine thoroughly
humiliated the aristocratic villain before gaining her tragic
vengeance against him.
EVA
LEIGH is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated romance author who
writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She enjoys
baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the ‘80s.
Eva and her husband live in Central California.
