Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

Then, too, there was something in her self-assurance—something that spoke of breeding and exposure to a London Season. Yet he had never heard of the White family name. Then there was her story—it seemed odd and, though he believed it, something in her eyes had hinted of falsehoods.

It annoyed him and hovered about his thoughts like a fretful child. He watched her get up. Instinctively, his eyes meandered slowly over her body, but his eyelids quickly veiled his appreciation of her form. This was one pretty his instincts cautioned him to pass!

“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am sure you two have matters to discuss, and I would dearly love a quick visit to the stables to look in on my Silkie,” Myriah said, brushing a few crumbs into a napkin and leaving it on the table.

“But it is raining,” his lordship offered with a frown.

“Ha! As though that could stop the she-devil,” teased Billy, waving her off.

With her departure Kit relaxed and chuckled as he watched his brother devour another strawberry tart. “Billy, you and Miss White seem to have progressed into an extremely comfortable relationship,” he said, eying him speculatively.

“Hmmm … she is a top sawyer! Don’t let her bossiness fool you, Kit. She really is grand, you know!”

“And how came you to this profound conclusion about a young lady you hardly know?” his lordship asked drily.

“Kit!” Billy protested. “She saved my life! If Myriah had not found me and brought me home, I could have bled to death on the grass … or worse!”

“Very well, we will allow her that much. She did indeed deliver you into Fletcher’s hands instead of hauling you off to the doctor’s … which would have been the very devil to deal with.”

“Aye, but, Kit,” objected Billy once again, “she did far more than that! Lord—ain’t Fletcher told you? He told me … fastened some sort of thing … ah, a tourniquet that slowed my blood from spilling out altogether. And what’s more, she never asked how I came by my bullet! Not one question. Nor does she talk around it like some females do trying to get you to slip up and give over …”

Kit laughed and put up his hands. “That, of course makes her right ’un!”

“Yes, it does,” Billy said defensively. “She is plucky—for you must know her father has tried to bully her into marrying some chap she didn’t take to. Up she gets and runs away! How many females do you know have the backbone to take such a step?”

“She told you that, eh?” His lordship was mildly surprised and asked, “And that step meets with your approbation, Billy?”

“Now, Kit, come down a leg! Lord, it ain’t like you to get some preachy look over your face. ’Tis humbug you be pitching at me, and I want to know why!”

“Frankly, I don’t wish for you to become involved with a girl of her stamp—” started his lordship.

A gusty laugh drowned out Kit’s words. “Involved? Egad, Kit … Myriah is a dazzler! Lord don’t know when I’ve clapped eyes on a brighter flower. But she no more wants my name than she wants that fellow’s she is running away from!”

“But what do you want, my bucko?” Kit asked.

“I want a fairy queen with china-blue eyes, corn silk hair blowing soft in the breeze … and I want her ten years from now!” Billy grinned.

Kit smiled and stood up. “All right, lad. I’ll plague you no more—for the time being. Get some rest.”

“The devil I will!” retorted his brother. “’Tis your turn now, my brother.”

“My turn, brat?” Kit’s brow went up.

“Aye, what I want to know is why are you back … now?”

What happens when Claudy tells a paranormal romance

in a Regency setting? Find out in

Prince Prelude—Legend

Prologue

ACCORDING TO THE humans’ Encyclopedia Britannica, Fairy is a race of supernatural beings who have magic powers and sometimes meddle in human affairs.

(I must agree, and I meddle more than my brethren.)

It goes on to explain that we are well known in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales and that we are very powerful and sometimes dangerous beings who can be friendly, mischievous, or cruel, depending on our whim. Sadly, it is true.