By Suzanne Enoch
Madeleine Willits used to be avoided through London society for a scandal that used to be no fault of hers, and compelled to hunt a paid place within the nation. So while Quinlan Bancroft, Marquis of Wakefield, involves direct the family in the course of his uncle's sickness, Maddie is set to loathe the nobleman on sight. yet although the 'marquis' is straightforward to dislike, the 'man' himself is a distinct topic. Quinlan's aplomb within the face of dust, demented pigs, and musket-waving villagers is deucedly attractive. Small ask yourself, then, that Maddie relatively forgets to repulse Quinlan while he enfolds her in a candy embrace...
MEETS THE NOBLE LORD
Caught kissing his uncle's stunning younger significant other, Quinlan feels he should still make amends, and use his rank to re-establish leave out Willits in society. regrettably, it's quickly obvious that Maddie has no inspiration how you can face up to imnportunate younger rakes who think her ripe for the plucking. yet Maddie is aware there's just one rake whose attentions she really must fear—because in simple terms Quinlan Bancroft possesses the ability to damage her heart.
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Extra resources for By Love Undone (Bancroft Brothers, Book 1)
Grey this, and Mr. Grey that, and how was it possible that Annabel hadn‘t seen him at the party? Annabel had shrugged and made some sort of I can‘t imagine type of comment, but it didn‘t matter because Louisa was still nattering on about his smile and his eyes which weregray and oh wasn‘t it just the most marvelous coincidence and oh yes, everyone had noticed that he departed on the arm of a married woman! This last bit did not surprise Annabel. He‘d told her quite plainly that he‘d been cavorting with a married woman before she‘d tripped over him.
He looked so lost in his own thoughts it almost seemed rude to interrupt. And so she waited, watching him with a curious expression, knowing that if he turned to her, he would see the question in her eyes. He never did turn to her, but after a minute or so, he said, ―It‘s different in the morning. The light is flatter. Redder. It catches the mist in the air, almost as if it creeps up from underneath. Everything is new,‖ he said softly. ‖ Annabel‘s breath caught. He sounded so wistful. It made her want to remain right where she was, on the blanket beside him, until the sun started to rise on the eastern horizon.
It reminded him of the war, of all those nights with nothing over his head save for the canopy of a tree. He‘d hated those nights. It didn‘t make much sense that something that brought back memories of war would give him such contentment right now, but not much that went through his head made sense. There didn‘t seem to be much point in questioning it. He closed his eyes. The insides of his eyelids were a brownish black, not at all the same as the thick purple of the night. Darkness had so many colors.