Vanquishing the Viscount
Wayward in Wessex, #3
by Elizabeth Keysian
Publication Date: April 9, 2018
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Scandalous, Historical, Romance
Synopsis
Emma Hibbert will never again trust a good-looking man. They offer nothing but heartbreak and humiliation. But her conscience won’t let her abandon a sinfully handsome stranger needing help—even if he ignites an unwelcome passion in her. She soon realizes she should have left him in the mud where she found him, for he has the power to ruin everything…
Viscount Tidworth is anything but grateful for being rescued after a tumble from his horse. His pretty savior may be well-meaning, but forcing him to delay his journey completely wrecks his engagement plans. And Tidworth cannot let that stand. But when he discovers Emma’s true identity, he must choose between his desire for revenge…and his baffling attraction to her.
Excerpt
About Elizabeth Keysian
Elizabeth Keysian felt destined to write historical romance due to her Cornish descent, and an ancestral connection to the Norse god Odin. Being an only child gave her plenty of time to read, create imaginary worlds, produce her own comics, and write sketches and a deplorably bad musical for an amateur dramatics group.
Three decades spent working in museums and archaeology fired Elizabeth’s urge to write, as did living on a Knights Templar estate, with a garage full of skeletons, a resident ghost and a moat teeming with newts.
Elizabeth lives near Bath in England with her partner and cats.
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Emma Hibbert will never again trust a good-looking man. They offer nothing but heartbreak and humiliation. But her conscience won’t let her abandon a sinfully handsome stranger needing help—even if he ignites an unwelcome passion in her. She soon realizes she should have left him in the mud where she found him, for he has the power to ruin everything…
Viscount Tidworth is anything but grateful for being rescued after a tumble from his horse. His pretty savior may be well-meaning, but forcing him to delay his journey completely wrecks his engagement plans. And Tidworth cannot let that stand. But when he discovers Emma’s true identity, he must choose between his desire for revenge…and his baffling attraction to her.
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Excerpt
As she
bustled about in the unfamiliar surroundings of the house in Daniel Street, she
wondered why on earth James was coming for her in a carriage. Great Pulteney
Street was only just around the corner, the very briefest of walks. Their new
manservant could probably have wheeled her few possessions over there on a
handcart.
Separating out her hat boxes from Mama’s, she grimaced. The reason was obvious. The countess wanted the Rossbury carriage to be seen out and about the town so Bath Society would be reminded what august personages were living in their midst.
There was the distinct sound of an equipage drawing up in front. Here so soon?
Emma's stomach felt like lead. She hated leaving her parents before they were settled. And how should she greet the man who’d engineered such a massive upheaval in all their lives? She hadn't set eyes on Tidworth since he left Tresham the day his parents came to fetch him. She wasn't looking forward to the encounter...for so many reasons.
Curiosity won over caution and she peeped around the shutters to watch the coach disgorge its occupant.
There was the familiar form of the viscount, the sight of whom turned the lead weight in her stomach into a flock of fluttering doves. He turned back to the carriage and—to Emma’s great surprise—assisted a small female figure down the steps.
Not the Countess of Rossbury, for she was taller. Why had James brought a woman with him? To make sure Emma didn’t rail at him in the carriage?
She smiled wryly to herself. If he thought the presence of someone else was going to protect him from her disapproval, the man was fooling himself!
Smoothing down her new gown, she tilted her chin and walked boldly into the drawing room.
James stood by the fireplace, one booted foot resting on the empty fender, his hands clasped behind his back, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. Despite the heat of the day, his white neck linen was crisply pristine, his face fresh and smooth, framed by hair recently cut into the fashionable windswept style. With his long legs encased in tight-fitting buckskins and his light blue tailcoat, he looked extremely dashing.
But...remote.
His gaze fastened on her as soon as she entered the room, and he stepped forward to give her a smart bow before brushing a kiss across the back of her hand.
All her bravado melted away.
Separating out her hat boxes from Mama’s, she grimaced. The reason was obvious. The countess wanted the Rossbury carriage to be seen out and about the town so Bath Society would be reminded what august personages were living in their midst.
There was the distinct sound of an equipage drawing up in front. Here so soon?
Emma's stomach felt like lead. She hated leaving her parents before they were settled. And how should she greet the man who’d engineered such a massive upheaval in all their lives? She hadn't set eyes on Tidworth since he left Tresham the day his parents came to fetch him. She wasn't looking forward to the encounter...for so many reasons.
Curiosity won over caution and she peeped around the shutters to watch the coach disgorge its occupant.
There was the familiar form of the viscount, the sight of whom turned the lead weight in her stomach into a flock of fluttering doves. He turned back to the carriage and—to Emma’s great surprise—assisted a small female figure down the steps.
Not the Countess of Rossbury, for she was taller. Why had James brought a woman with him? To make sure Emma didn’t rail at him in the carriage?
She smiled wryly to herself. If he thought the presence of someone else was going to protect him from her disapproval, the man was fooling himself!
Smoothing down her new gown, she tilted her chin and walked boldly into the drawing room.
James stood by the fireplace, one booted foot resting on the empty fender, his hands clasped behind his back, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. Despite the heat of the day, his white neck linen was crisply pristine, his face fresh and smooth, framed by hair recently cut into the fashionable windswept style. With his long legs encased in tight-fitting buckskins and his light blue tailcoat, he looked extremely dashing.
But...remote.
His gaze fastened on her as soon as she entered the room, and he stepped forward to give her a smart bow before brushing a kiss across the back of her hand.
All her bravado melted away.
About Elizabeth Keysian
Elizabeth Keysian felt destined to write historical romance due to her Cornish descent, and an ancestral connection to the Norse god Odin. Being an only child gave her plenty of time to read, create imaginary worlds, produce her own comics, and write sketches and a deplorably bad musical for an amateur dramatics group.Three decades spent working in museums and archaeology fired Elizabeth’s urge to write, as did living on a Knights Templar estate, with a garage full of skeletons, a resident ghost and a moat teeming with newts.
Elizabeth lives near Bath in England with her partner and cats.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon
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