Title A Governess Should Never… Lure a Spy
Author Emily Windsor
Genre Regency Romance
Publisher Senara Press
Book Blurb
“So tell me, Miss Jones, why should I employ you as governess?”
A question to rouse fear within the breast of any prospective governess, unless…she wasn’t a governess at all.
Yet Amelia must secure this position by whatever means necessary as this gentleman, dubbed The Scandalous Hugh Cadwalader by fashionable society, is not all he seems. Behind the elegant finery and azure eyes is a dangerous warrior of a man, a tenacious spy for the Crown.
One who might just have turned traitor…
“Just one more question, if I may…”
With her perfect references and perfect demureness, Miss Jones appears…perfect.
Feminine guidance and distraction are required for his inquisitive ward while Hugh Cadwalader hunts a traitor in the alleys of London’s Rookery.
But can such perfection be all it seems? And was that a glimpse of golden fire within those amber eyes?
The Dangerous Spy and… The More Dangerous Governess.
One should never judge a governess by her perfectly forged references or a spy by his unblemished Hessian boots, for behind both facades lay passion untamed, subterfuge unbound and a quest for justice.
A battle of wits with only one winner… Love.
With theatres of glister and glamour, nights of shadow and menace, hairpins of poison, and…being pressed to a desk by a shirtless masculine chest, the vocation of governess has never been so perilous – to the heart.
The Scandalous Hugh Cadwalader first features in Book 2 of this series, A Governess Should Never... Deny a Duke. This is his story.
Contains sensual scenes.
The Governess Chronicles:
1 – A Governess Should Never... Tempt a Prizefighter
2 – A Governess Should Never... Deny a Duke (An Amazon US No. 1 Regency Romance)
3 – A Gentleman Will Never… Forget a Lady (Christmas Novella)
4 – A Governess Should Never… Lure a Spy
Excerpt
No. 14 Hanover Square, Mayfair, London. May 1817
“So tell me, Miss Jones, why should I employ you as governess?”
Curse it.
And Amelia lowered her gaze to the mahogany desk in order to portray thoughtful repose.
What a devious question.
Especially as there were countless reasons why the gentleman should, in fact, not employ her as governess.
She’d never educated a young lady in her entire twenty-four years of life, knew naught concerning the history of art, cared less about the proper use of semicolons, was quite hopeless at all musical endeavours and hadn’t the faintest idea what…tatting was.
Yet how arduous could it be to keep a fifteen-year-old girl occupied?
Just give her a book to read, surely?
So, with a surreptitious intake of breath, Amelia clasped her hands in what she judged to be a suitably demure fashion and raised her lashes to the gentleman who prodded her so.
A Mr Hugh Cadwalader.
His lustrous blue gaze caused that intake of breath to hitch somewhat, so she pursed her lips in a prim manner and sniffed. Governesses always sniffed. But as to his question… “I am well-versed, Mr Cadwalader, in all subjects that a young lady might have need of during her Season.”
Such as how to evade a marriage-obsessed mama at a ball, the varied usages for a yard length of silk sash and the extrication of oneself from the clutches of a lascivious duke with merely a dance card pencil.
“I see.”
Amelia thought that reply most enigmatic. “You have my references?”
“Yes,” he drawled, gathering the papers before him. “My man of affairs has attempted to verify these references, yet it seems your past employers are either not of the living or not currently residing within these isles.” With agile slender fingers, he leafed through them. “Lord Fowler is pursuing parakeets in the Amazonia, Lady Bassett is sifting through sand dunes in the former Mesopotamia, Lady Clifford is scouring Constantinople for the Ark and Lady Padgett is scouring Paris for her errant husband.”
Amelia held his gaze. “How unfortunate.” And tilted her head. “But if you find me acceptable on all other counts, might I suggest a period of probation until my references can be verified?”
That should give her enough time to search this townhouse, question the servants, note Mr Cadwalader’s movements and read any of his pertinent correspondence, all in order to write a comprehensive report for her superior at the Foreign Office.
For Amelia’s talents lay not in punctuation or musical endeavours but in subterfuge for the Crown…
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Author Biography
Regency Romance with Warmth, Wit & Well-tied Cravats.
Emily grew up in the north of England on a diet of historical romance and strong tea.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t study Regency slang, so she did the next best thing and gained a degree in Classics and History instead. This ‘led’ to an eight-year stint in engineering.
Having left city life, she now lives in a dilapidated farmhouse where her days are spent writing, fixing the leaky roof, battling the endless vegetation and finding pictures of well-tied cravats.
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