Blurb
Thorncliff
Manor is the perfect setting for a masquerade ball . . . where the
heart’s secret desires are about to be uncovered in this
scintillating Regency romance from Sophie Barnes
Richard Heartly has exiled himself from society since the war, plotting his revenge for a terrible betrayal. A masked ball at Thorncliff Manor is intended to be a brief diversion. Instead, he encounters a fascinating young woman as entranced by the music as he is. He can’t reveal his identity to Lady Mary. But her siren song keeps drawing him back, and their clandestine meetings could be hazardous to his plan—and to her virtue . . .
Avoiding an unwanted marriage was easy when Lady Mary was ignored by the ton. Thanks to her dazzling appearance at the masquerade, she’s a wallflower no longer. Eligible suitors abound, yet the only man she wants is the brooding, seductive companion who keeps his face hidden. A man who tempts her to disclose her own shocking secret, one that could divide them forever . . .
Richard Heartly has exiled himself from society since the war, plotting his revenge for a terrible betrayal. A masked ball at Thorncliff Manor is intended to be a brief diversion. Instead, he encounters a fascinating young woman as entranced by the music as he is. He can’t reveal his identity to Lady Mary. But her siren song keeps drawing him back, and their clandestine meetings could be hazardous to his plan—and to her virtue . . .
Avoiding an unwanted marriage was easy when Lady Mary was ignored by the ton. Thanks to her dazzling appearance at the masquerade, she’s a wallflower no longer. Eligible suitors abound, yet the only man she wants is the brooding, seductive companion who keeps his face hidden. A man who tempts her to disclose her own shocking secret, one that could divide them forever . . .
Goodreads
Link:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27213162-his-scandalous-kiss
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/136344-secrets-at-thorncliff-manor
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/136344-secrets-at-thorncliff-manor
Author
Info
Born
in Denmark, Sophie
Barnes spent
her youth traveling with her parents to wonderful places all around
the world. She's lived in five different countries, on three
different continents, and speaks Danish, English, French, Spanish and
Romanian. She has studied design in Paris and New York and has a
bachelor's degree from Parsons. But, most impressive of all, she's
been married to the same man three times—in three different
countries and in three different dresses.
While
living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion: writing.
When she's not busy dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys
spending time with her family, swimming, cooking, gardening, watching
romantic comedies and, of course, reading. She currently lives on the
East Coast.
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Chapter
1
Thorncliff
Manor, 1820
A
gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the smooth murmur of
violins as Richard gazed out over the terrace of Thorncliff Manor.
The grand estate and guesthouse where his parents and siblings had
chosen to spend the summer while their own home was being renovated,
sat solidly at his back—a welcome retreat for those who were
wealthy enough to afford it. Standing to one side, Richard watched
the guests, their gemstones scattering the torchlight while feathers
bowed and swayed.
Although
they wore masks, he was able to recognize a few of those present.
Certainly, he had seen many of them from his bedroom window since
arriving at Thorncliff a few weeks earlier. But there were those
whose acquaintance he’d never had the pleasure of, like the young
ladies who’d made their debuts since 1815—a year he would not
soon forget. In any event, it was a long time since he’d spoken to
any of these people. Some, he reflected, had been friends once . . .
His heart beat slowly, dulled by the lead that now flowed through his
veins.
It
was briefly forgotten when a gentle voice spoke at his shoulder.
“Your company is much appreciated this evening, Mr. Heartly.”
Turning
his head, Richard glanced down at his hostess, the incomparable Lady
Duncaster. “After all . . .” His words faltered—no
doubt from lack of usage. Inhaling deeply, he took a moment to
compose himself before trying again, more slowly this time. “After
all the effort you have gone to on my behalf, it would have been rude
of me to stay away.” Rigidly, he glanced in her direction, his
nails digging against the palms of his hands as he clenched his
fists. There was more to be said. “I . . .”
“Yes?”
she queried.
“Please
don’t use my real name, Countess. Tonight I am Signor Antonio.”
“Of
course.” Her eyes gleamed with the mystery of a shared secret. “As
to all the effort you mentioned, your presence here after so many
years of absence has made it all worthwhile.” A wry smile appeared
beneath the edge of her over-embellished mask. “Besides, I have
always wondered what it might be like to restore the masquerade ball
to its former glory.”
Dipping
his head, Richard acknowledged her comment, the gesture encouraging
her to continue.
“In
my youth, my husband and I experienced a traditional one in
Venice—before the Venetian Republic fell. . . .
Masquerades have since become popular in other parts of Europe,
though they generally lack the flamboyance that I initially fell in
love with.” She shook her head somewhat wistfully, then
straightened herself and earnestly asked, “What do you think,
Signor? Is it grand enough?”
In
Richard’s opinion the extravagance was overwhelming, but since he
knew this was probably the effect Lady Duncaster was aiming for, he
said, “I think you have outdone all other masquerades, my lady. I
am certainly impressed.”
Chuckling,
Lady Duncaster slapped his arm playfully with her fan. “You are
quite the charmer. Do you know that?”
“It
is accidental, I can assure you,” he told her dryly, belatedly
realizing that he probably should have thanked her for the
compliment.
She
tsked in response. “I sincerely doubt that.” Taking him by the
arm, she guided him slowly along the periphery of the terrace while
the orchestra on the opposite side struck up a new tune. In no time
at all, the center of the terrace had been occupied by guests who
wished to participate in a country dance, their theatrical garments a
testament to originality rather than taste. “I know your parents,
Signor, and I very much doubt that your mother would have raised a
son capable of being anything but a perfect gentleman.”
