By Eloisa James
Unique booklet: 2004
It is whispered at the back of the enthusiasts of London's dowagers and within the corners of stylish ballrooms that scandal follows willfully wild girl Beatrix Lennox anywhere she goes.
Three years earlier than, the debutante created a sensation via being present in a extraordinarily compromising place. Now, the ton has branded her as unmarriageable, her kinfolk has known as her a vixen, and Beatrix sees no cause to not move after what -- and who -- she wishes.
And she desires Stephen Fairfax-Lacy, the good-looking Earl of Spade. Beatrix, together with her brazen feedback and irresistibly sensuous attract, couldn't be extra varied from the earl's excellent destiny bride. but Beatrix brings out a wildness within the earl he has attempted to disclaim a long way too lengthy. nonetheless, he's now not approximately to play love's video game via woman Beatrix's ideas. She can be used to being on best in affairs of the center, yet that may quickly switch.
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Additional resources for A Wild Pursuit (Duchess Quartet, Book 3)
The doctor said he'd be back in the morning. " Melly frowned as she became aware of the carnage on the table. " Grace hacked at a turnip. It was a very old, very tough turnip. Her injured hand throbbed and her stomach kept rumbling. The thought of hot meat pies had set it off. Blast him! Melly peered at the array of old vegetables dubiously. " "Anyone can cook," Grace declared, hoping it was true. " "Why not? Is there nothing else to eat? Are there truly no servants? " The innocent questions made Grace's blood want to boil.
What nonsense the man talked. The whole time she was searching for the kitchen, her mind mulled over the question: how was it possible for a man to grow to his age—he must be nearing thirty, she guessed, and yet never have set eyes on his father's house? It was a mystery. He was a mystery. One minute all mischief and teasing, the next, withdrawn… And oh, how he appealed to her on every level… Eventually Grace found the kitchen and surveyed it gloomily. A stone-flagged, cavernous room, it was unbelievably old-fashioned.
You don't want me to call you Bright Eyes, and I can't keep calling you Greystoke…" He smiled like a self-satisfied tiger. " "I don't have a first name. " She took a determined step away from him and said lightly, "What do you imagine we've shared, Lord D'Acre? You know nothing about me. You are betrothed to Miss Pettifer and even if you know nothing about loyalty—and, and love—I do! " She shooed him away. "You're wrong, Little Miss No-first-name. " The sultry, drawn-out way he said the word was almost indecent!