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    Relentless Lord: Regency Rogues, #4
    Relentless Lord: Regency Rogues, #4
    Relentless Lord: Regency Rogues, #4
    Ebook97 pages1 hour

    Relentless Lord: Regency Rogues, #4

    By Amy Sandas

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    A Prequel Novella

    Miles Whitely is a shameless flirt with a wicked reputation for debauching innocents. Devilishly handsome, he charms his way through life finding amusement in nearly everything while leaving a trail of ruined young women behind him.

    Hannah Walpole was sent to England for a traditional debut; something she wasn't going to get while traveling with her parents across the African continent. She realizes quickly enough that it is a wasted effort. She simply does not fit in with English high society.

    Miles admires Hannah's adventurous spirit and cool composure, and when the young lady declares she cannot be seduced, Miles eagerly accepts her unwitting challenge. But Hannah has no intention of becoming another victim of his striking gaze or honeyed flattery.

    Does Lord Whitely have something more than seduction in mind, or is he truly the cad everyone says he is?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAmy Sandas
    Release dateDec 1, 2018
    ISBN9781386492245
    Relentless Lord: Regency Rogues, #4
    Author

    Amy Sandas

    Amy grew up in a small dairy town in northern Wisconsin and after earning a Liberal Arts degree from the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities, she eventually made her way back to Wisconsin (though to a slightly larger town) and lives there with her husband and three children. She writes Regency and Western Historical Romance about dashing and sometimes dangerous men who know just how to get what they want and women who may be reckless, bold, and unconventional, but who always have the courage to embrace all that life and love have to offer. The rest of her time is spent trying to keep up with the kids and squeeze in some stolen moments with her husband.

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      Book preview

      Relentless Lord - Amy Sandas

      Dedication

      To December Gephart, my friend, critique partner, and an amazing writer. Thanks for all the honesty and encouragement, the brainstorming sessions, and the late-night talks over bottles of wine. You rock!

      And to the Wausau area Wisconsin RWA group, a wonderful bunch of writers who continue to inspire and motivate me.

      Chapter One

      Lancashire, England 1815

      Hannah Walpole had never in her life faced such a unique and exasperating challenge. And that was saying something since she had been in some harrowing situations in her twenty years of life.

      If there was one thing she had learned since coming to England two years ago, it was that a lady must maintain decorum at all times. Even when her garter twisted so badly it pinched the sensitive skin at the back of her thigh. Hannah initially thought the pinched garter would resolve itself and continued on her way toward the grand drawing room where everyone was gathering to start off the weeklong party. Unfortunately, with each added stride, the discomfort increased.

      By the time she decided to do something, she had reached the main level of the country house. Guests milled about in every direction as they greeted each other and began the endless socializing that would be expected during the visit. The idea of traversing back through so many curious gazes while pretending not to feel the agonizing pinch made the trek back to her guest bedroom seem like a journey of a thousand miles.

      She would never make it.

      Following one of her father’s oft-repeated rules—If your chosen path becomes impassable, simply change direction—Hannah looked about for other options.

      That was when she recalled the location of a water closet along one of the hallways extending from the rear of the grand hall. Sidling around the growing crowd, Hannah had made her way one painful step after another toward the dimly lit corridor. The tour of the house she had been given earlier in the day had been extensive and she was fairly certain she remembered the way to the water closet.

      She was wrong.

      In a house like this, cobbled together over generations of additions and remodels, she soon got turned around by the myriad junctions and secondary hallways that branched off in every direction. Finally acknowledging her predicament, and frankly, because the pain of her garter would not allow another step, Hannah stopped and assessed her situation.

      Hannah Walpole, daughter of two of the most experienced and extensive explorers of the African continent, had gotten herself lost in a house.

      Certainly, it was a palatial estate made up of various wings and towers and other added structures that spread out over several acres.

      But still...it was a house.

      She stood in the middle of a short hallway, really just a passage that connected two other longer hallways, both of which Hannah had already been down with absolutely no evidence of a water closet. She was not opposed to finding an alternative room to use, but that meant she now had to retrace her path. And at the moment, she did not think she could move another step.

      To test it, she gently shifted her weight. There was an immediate tightening of the garter and a quick gasp of pain.

      Bloody ridiculous, she muttered to herself, then quickly glanced around.

      Thank goodness, there was no one about to hear her crude curse or witness her humiliating degradation. As the thought finished in her mind, Hannah realized an added benefit of that fact. She stilled to listen for any nearby movement.

      She was quite alone.

      After only the briefest hesitation, she grasped her skirts and flipped them up to her hip as she reached down the back of her leg for the offending clasp. The farther she reached, the more strain was put on her leg and the tighter the damned thing pinched.

      She muttered another furious curse and straightened with a grunt of pain.

      May I be of some assistance? Though the words offered aid, the deep masculine tone suggested amusement.

      Hannah dropped her skirts over her legs and whipped her head toward the voice. The swift movement caused another sting of pain and another sharp inhalation The lighting was dim in the short passageway, but it was enough for Hannah to determine she now stood in the presence of an extremely attractive gentleman.

      She guessed him to be in his late twenties. He held his gloves in his hands, but other than that, he was dressed at the height of gentlemanly fashion in elegant black breeches and a dove-gray coat over an emerald-colored waistcoat. He had thick black hair, a hard angled jaw, and a broad forehead.

      His roguish expression struck Hannah most disconcertingly, because despite his attempt at casting his features into a solemn expression, he did not quite manage it. There was a rather exaggerated downward pull on his mouth, suggesting he was doing everything he could to hold back his laughter. As if in an attempt to compensate for the rebellion of his mouth, he had his dark eyebrows drawn low over a striking gaze.

      It was in those eyes that Hannah became momentarily lost.

      Eyes that continued to stare at her curiously from the short distance separating them.

      Eyes such a vivid green beneath the sweep of black lashes they reminded her of the lush vegetation that spread along the Nile during growing season.

      Eyes that laughed despite his solemn expression.

      She had heard tales of eyes like his.

      Hannah stiffened abruptly, sending another shot of pain through her leg.

      She scanned his features. Indeed, they matched a description she had heard spoken of numerous times in the past. Hannah suspected this was the very rake who had seduced and rejected her poor cousin two years ago. And, if rumors were to be believed, at least a dozen other young women just like her.

      Of all the people she could have encountered at this moment, it would be her luck that it should be a notorious scoundrel known for ruining innocent young women.

      Excuse me, she muttered, all her cousin’s warnings about this man tumbling over themselves through her thoughts. I should go.

      She would be better served to take her chances in the labyrinth-like hallways than stand another minute with this man. She turned to head in the opposite direction. In her haste, she forgot about the situation with her garter. The fierce twisting motion of her body as she spun around caused the thing to catch even more of her flesh in its grip.

      Her breath hissed between her teeth and she closed her eyes tight against the prick of tears. How humiliating to be brought low by an incessant piece of lady’s underwear.

      You are obviously in distress, the green-eyed scoundrel said as he came toward her. Allow me to help.

      No. I am quite all right. Hannah lifted her hand to him in a gesture to keep him at bay.

      There had

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