The fun of a collection of stories is that you’ll meet more than one hero. Here’s a sampling of the heroes in the collection.
When He’s (Not) Perfect: Earl of Upminster
In When He’s (Not) Perfect, capable Pippa has decided she’ll avoid the Earl of Upminster — he ruined her Season.
Unfortunately…
Inevitably, she met the earl, but not how she would wish to meet him.
He had arrived, and had joined the hunt, because that same morning he stared down at her from the top of his horse as she lay in a ditch.
Her mount had refused to jump the hedge, twisting sharply aside at the last moment, unseating Pippa and dumping her into the ice-cold, muddy water.
“My lord,” Pippa said, when he took her hand and hoisted her to her feet.
“Someone’s gone after your horse,” he said cheerfully, his voice as deep and velvety as always. “You’re uninjured, I trust?”
“Of course. The mud was soft,” she said, unable to keep sarcasm from her tone.
When She’s A Merry Widow: James Woolley, the explorer
Priscilla’s a widow, and moreover, she’s a widow who’s determined to enjoy her new status. Unfortunately, her late son’s husband won’t allow it. She’s bought a great house, Moreton Stirling, which is said to be haunted.
She’s determined to discover why her house has such a bad reputation, so she visits the library…
This was her first chance to examine the library closely; she knew that there were several books about Moreton Stirling and its history.
“Now where are they…” She wondered aloud.
“If you’ll tell me what you’re looking for, my lady, I should be able to help.”
Priscilla stumbled, startled — she’d imagined herself alone. She looked around, wondering where that deep, cultured voice had come from.
“Up here.” He sounded amused.
A tall man, lean, black haired — atop a library ladder.
Priscilla put her hand on her chest, to still her heart, which was beating much more strongly than it had. She studied him, as he studied her. Hard-faced, she thought, tanned, with deep grooves across his forehead. Almost gypsy-like, with that pronounced nose. Strong-willed, too: he had a square chin.
He wore breeches, and a riding coat. Of good quality, as were his boots.
“You — who are you, and why are you in my library?”
“Woolley, ma’am — James Woolley, of Ranford Hill.”
“The estate next door?” She frowned. Now she remembered. “You’re that Africa man, the explorer, who almost got eaten by lions.” She blushed, cursing her habit of speaking before she thought. “I’m sorry, forgive me.”
Meet more gorgeous heroes in “How To Win A Regency Heart: The Follyjohn Gossip Story Collection”
