Monday, July 27, 2015
If He's Noble by Hannah Howell
New York Times bestselling author Hannah Howell delivers adventure and instant attraction in this all-new Wherlocke Family novel...
For Lady Primrose Wootten nothing has been ordinary since her father the Baron died and his wayward family filled the estate with greed and treachery. Primrose knows if she can just track down her brother, he can send the odious relations on their way. But instead she finds this enormous, powerful stranger, and forgets entirely what she was doing in the first place...
Sir Bened Vaughn isn't much afraid of a pistol. But he is a bit afraid of the woman holding it, who stirs up something so primal he's not sure he can shake it off. Vaughn is an honorable man, and he knows he has no right to desire Primrose. Yet he does have an obligation to help her, and as they learn more about her brother's disappearance, he realizes that means staying by her side...wanting her all the while... and wondering how much longer they can resist temptation...
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“Smudge! Where are you, you obstinate beastie?”
Bened reined to a halt and stared in the direction of that angry feminine voice. The accent was
definitely that of a well-born woman. What was some gentry lass doing deep in the forest with night coming on fast? Aside from making a lot of noise, he thought, as he heard a loud thrashing around in bushes followed by a faintly shocking litany of curses that would make a stable boy proud.
He sensed no threat so patiently waited for whoever was stomping through the woods calling for a horse, the same speckled gray mare he could see calmly grazing several yards away to his left. When a small, bedraggled woman stumbled out of the shadows of the thick trees, Bened actually caught his breath, surprised by the sight of her as well as his reaction. His heartbeat picked up its pace. Something it had never done at the sight of a woman. Certainly not for one like her. She was not the type of woman who usually caught his interest or attention.
She was short, delicate of build, yet shapely in a way that would please any man. Her hair was a mass of long, thick blond curls now cluttered with twigs and leaves. A look of angry frustration did nothing to dim the innocent beauty of her heart-shaped face. The flush of anger coloring her cheeks actually looked good on her fair skin. She was the perfect example of a gentle-bred Englishwoman except for the pistol she held aimed at his heart.
The pistol looked too big for her small, longfingered hand but that hand did not tremble. Bened still experienced no sense of a true threat from her; saw no dangerous enemy before him. He supposed it made sense for the woman to have a pistol while running around in the woods and to point it at some stranger she met. It was, in truth, the only indication that she had recognized the precarious position she was in. He frowned at how fiercely she squinted at him and realized her eyesight might not be very keen.
“Do you intend to use that?” he asked as he very carefully dismounted.
“Do not move.”
“I mean you no harm, m’lady.”
“How do you know I am a lady?”
Bened bit back a smile as she growled softly and rolled her eyes.
“That was not what I meant to say,” she grumbled. “I meant how did you know who I am?”
“I do not. I but assumed your rank because of how you speak and the fine quality of your clothing. I am Sir Bened Vaughn.” He stepped closer to her.
“You are moving again.”
“I know.” He took one swift, large step and snatched the pistol from her hand.
“I told you to stop moving!”
“And I told you that I mean you no harm but I do prefer not having a pistol pointed at me.”
“Fine. I quite understand that but I need you to hold still. Considering your size, I suspect you have large, booted feet and I have lost my spectacles around here somewhere. I would rather you did not find them by stomping on them.”
Meet the Author
Hannah was born and raised in Massachusetts (the maternal side of her family has been there since the 1630's). She has been married to her husband Stephen for 28 years, who she met in England while visiting relatives, and decided to import him. They have two sons Samuel, 27, and Keir, 24. She is addicted to crocheting, reads and plays piano, attempts to garden, and collects things like dolls, faerie and cat figurines, and music boxes. She also seems to collect cats, as she now has four of them, Clousseau, Banshee, Spooky, and Oliver Cromwell.
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