Available Now at loveyoudivine

September 26th

Lady Entwhistle arrives at Entwhistle Farm armed with a new wardrobe, designed to entice her errant, irresponsible husband back to her bedchamber.  Instead of finding him hard at work as promised, she is left with the remnants of his illicit liaisons and her marriage.  Desperate, frustrated and angry, she turns to Brian Warrington, the earl of Croylton, one of the most notorious London rogues.  In his arms, she discovers friendship, loyalty and desire.  Before she can find true happiness, secrets long hidden by her husband’s family must be revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHAT THEY'RE SAYING!

From Danielle at Coffee Time Romance:

Ms. Grady takes a country girl, gives her the will to become someone she is not, then turns her into a strong woman with the will to survive. The push and pull attraction between the two main characters is thick with the want and need they have for each other. The scenes depicted in the tale were described with vivid clarity. A sensational read for any romance reader, this story is filled with passion, laughter, and tears. The Eyes of Sin is a tale that will be remembered for years to come.

Read the entire review!

Also awarded the CTRR by Danielle! Click on the image for further comments.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read an excerpt!

Chapter 1

Brian Warrington, the newly made earl of Croylton, leaned against the wall as he waited for his turn. Manton’s Shooting Parlor echoed with the genial chatter of the privileged few on this grey day. Brian had joined the ranks of indolent young men since His Majesty discharged him with thanks from the Royal Infantry. His pockets full and his body tired and scarred, he now spent his days searching for more and better means of dissipation.

Retired, he snorted, at the age of twenty-seven. His legs would never manage to mount a saddle again, the slices from a Spanish sword deep and long. Indeed, he was lucky to be walking. His companions continued to take aim at the wafers, never coming close to the bull’s eye. These young dandies had never shot in fear for their lives, Brian thought, or their aim would be better.

“Your turn, Croylton,” Lord Aisling gestured for Brian to take his place. The attendant held out Brian’s polished pistol, loaded and ready for his pleasure.

He took hold of the weapon, calmly eyed the target, drew a steadying breath, raised his arm and fired. Bull’s eye, as always. The ability to fire under pressure remained the reason he had returned from the Peninsula at all. He accepted the congratulations of his friends, smiling and laughing…until he heard something most out of place.

“I don’t understand! My money is just as good as theirs. I want to learn to shoot. This seemed to be the logical place to do that.”

The voice was feminine, and if he wasn’t mistaken, young. Brian wandered towards the sitting parlor at the front of Manton’s, where the men sipped at drinks and chatted before resuming their day after taking some shots in the rear of the establishment. She stood, pretty as a pin before the reception desk, with a coin in her hand, arguing with the proprietor.

“Miss!” Mr. Manton tried to intercede.

“It’s Lady Entwhistle, if you want to know.”

“Oh dear,” the flustered owner muttered.

Brian was enthralled—entertained, even. Nothing quite so alarming had ever occurred at one of London’s most sacrosanct gentlemen’s clubs. Her apparel spoke of money, the unending kind. Her accent…not London, not the West Country, no, not even the North Country. It was a puzzle and her form of address…something was decidedly missing.

Brian stepped into the parlor. “May I assist you, my lady?” His baser instincts as a rake on the prowl immediately came to attention as the young, slim, not-too-tall, brunette with brown eyes and a chin that soared turned towards him.

“I certainly, hope so,” she began, “As I said, I am Lady Entwhistle and I want to learn to shoot. I have sufficient funds to employ a tutor and this seemed to be a suitable establishment to find such.”

“Indeed,” Brian replied. He paused, unsure how to proceed. The lady clearly didn’t understand just what she was doing to her reputation or the protected walls of Manton’s. “Perhaps, I might be of service in some way. Allow me to introduce myself, Lord Brian Warrington, Earl of Croylton.”

That chin barely moved as she watched him bow. He waited a moment for the returned pleasantry. Instead of the expected curtsy, she only stared.

“Yes, well, Croylton you said? Jeremy mentioned you, I think. We should all thank you for your bravery and sacrifices.” She appeared to mean what she said, her words imbued with fervor. The moment was fleeting as she continued, “How would you be of service? Will you teach me to shoot?”

Brian itched to know much more about this woman. She did not use any honorifics when addressing him, she spoke in an odd accent and she was entirely too self-confident. “I think for the moment, I will merely call your carriage for you and see you safely home. I am sure Lord Entwhistle will be anxious to hear of your escapade this morning.”

She cocked her head in confusion. “I don’t mean to tell him.”

Several more men sauntered into the parlor, upon hearing her statement. To them, Lady Entwhistle appeared to be a young matron looking for some entertainment.

Brian sensed the circling pack prepare to pounce. “Lady Entwhistle, I fear you don’t understand your current situation. It is not safe here. Let me call your carriage.”

She eyed the men surrounding her. Her shoulders slouched a little, her eyes blinked. “Oh my.”

“Precisely,” Brian stated. He grabbed her elbow, turned the lady around and ushered her out the door into the dull London morning.

A black town rig with a pair of high-stepping blacks stood waiting at the curb. A footman opened the door, waiting his lady’s pleasure. The footman’s livery and the crest on the door declared the carriage belonged to the Duke of Carthmoor.

“Good Lord, woman. Who are you?” Brian said before he could stop the exclamation.

“As I said…” She checked her gloves and bonnet. “Lady Entwhistle, wife of Jeremy Entwhistle. You know, Baron Entwhistle,”

“The youngest brother to the Duke of Carthmoor,” he finished for her. “How did you manage this? I know the Dowager Duchess. Lady Carthmoor would never allow this to happen.”

“I called for the carriage for some shopping.” She smiled innocently at Brian.

He did not know the young baron, he only knew of him. Jeremy Entwhistle was the third son of the ducal family. In an effort to keep the young man out of trouble, the Dowager had sent Jeremy off to the Colonies to settle a land dispute in Virginia. Brian surmised that Lord Entwhistle had recently returned with more than a deed.

Brian urged her into the carriage. He followed behind, taking the seat facing the rear and the confused young lady.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I am taking you home, behind high fences and iron gates. You have a few things to learn about London, Lady Entwhistle. Tricks like this one are dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because there are men like me waiting for you to play them.”

“How like you?” Brown eyes blinked in confusion.

“Any number of gentlemen in Manton’s would have volunteered to teach you to shoot, Lady Entwhistle. But their lessons would not have taken place in a pistol range.” Brian felt himself tensing with frustration. No married woman should be this naïve.

“Where would they have taken place?” she insisted on knowing.

“For the love of…” he eyed her carefully. Somebody needed to teach her about the dangers of the ton. It was clear her husband had not sufficiently opened her eyes to the world, yet. “The bedroom, if you must know.”

She blushed. A very pretty blush, Brian thought. He imagined it went all the way to her toes.

“Oh.”

Brian ordered the coach on, giving the Carthmoor House address in Grosvenor Square. Silence filled the carriage.

“I still need to know how to shoot.”

Brian turned his head back to Lady Entwhistle. “Whatever for?”

Another blush. “It’s really rather silly.”

Brian cocked an eyebrow, begging for more information.

“Jeremy told me he is taking a commission in the Cavalry, what with all the troubles on the Continent. And then he told me how all the soldiers that would be following him would need to be the best.” She appeared to be considering whether to say anymore.

Brian urged her on. “Yes, please continue.”

“Well, I know some of the officers’ wives follow the company. It sounds terribly exciting. But, I wouldn’t want to be a burden. So, I thought I should perhaps learn all those things that a soldier would need to know.”

Brian blinked. Not in a thousand years would he have guessed this one. “It’s not exciting, Lady Entwhistle. War is terrifying.”

A crooked smile met his stern gaze. “Yes, but I don’t think the Dowager Carthmoor would like me around her house or her, for that matter. I’m not very polished.”

Brian laughed a deep, hearty chuckle. It felt good. He realised he had not done so in many months. The lady was more terrified of her mother-in-law than Napoleon’s horde. Actually, he didn’t blame her. The Dowager Carthmoor was absolutely petrifying. “Lady Entwhistle, I have to thank you for a wonderful morning.”

She looked at him, her face full of questions.

“Your forthright approach to your problem has considerably lightened my day. Allow me to return the favor.  I will speak with Lord Entwhistle and explain your predicament. Perhaps he will see the sense in your plan. I’d wager he is as wary of the Lady Carthmoor as you.”

“Why, thank you!” She appeared to search for something. “I seem to have completely forgotten your name. It wouldn’t do for me to return home with a stranger.”

“Lord Brian Warrington, my lady, at your service,” he intoned with a smile.

“Oh! That’s right. Croylton.” She reached across the carriage and grabbed his hand. “I do appreciate your help.”

DOWNLOAD THE eBook at loveyoudivine!