A secret rebel…
Beautiful, spirited Lady Imogen Ridley is the toast of London’s glamorous season. Her blue-blooded admirers would be shocked to know that beneath her glittering veneer, she loathes society’s shallow snobberies. All she wants is to return to her gardening projects in the country.
Her reckless attempt to spark a scandal that will result in a quick trip home goes awry when she meets a handsome stranger in a dark gazebo. A string of forbidden trysts follow that fateful encounter, as immediate attraction soon turns to blazing passion. But Imogen has been promised to another, and her father is powerful and ruthless. He won’t tolerate any challenge to his ambitions for his daughter.
A man from a different world…
American Caleb Black finds himself at odds with England’s hidebound rules. Despite his wealth and brilliance as a landscape designer, he’s considered little better than a servant in status-obsessed Mayfair. So when he sets his sights on marrying the Earl of Deerforth’s lovely daughter, he knows he’s asking for trouble.
And trouble is exactly what he gets. Caleb needs to call on all his cleverness and determination to court his exquisite lady, let alone engineer a chance to make her his. With every secret meeting, every stolen caress, desire burns hotter, while danger and disgrace loom ever closer. Will this impossible love affair shatter the towering barriers of class and pedigree? Or will noble lineage, family duty, and centuries of tradition forever separate this man of the people from his aristocratic beloved?
An international e-book release ~ 30th January 2022
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Prestwick Place, Buckinghamshire, April 1816
“Oh, this is lovely.”
At the sound of Lady Imogen’s voice, Caleb glanced up. She was poised in the arch leading into this enclosed patch of paradise.
He’d only ever seen her in her London finery. Silks and jewels and elaborate hairstyles. Even when she’d called on the Tierneys, she’d been dressed to the nines. But this morning, she was dressed much more simply in a plain yellow merino dress, and her hair was confined in a thick plait. Because of the cold, she’d wrapped a cashmere shawl around her shoulders. The rich rust and blue colours made her skin appear even whiter. To him, she’d never looked more beautiful.
He reached out to flatten one hand against the cool bricks, as he told himself that he didn’t yet have the right to cross the short distance between them and seize her in his arms. Every other time they’d met, he’d been unable to forget the social gulf separating them. But at this moment, she just looked like a pretty girl who made him ache with desire.
“Mr. Black?” she asked, when he didn’t speak straightaway. “Is something wrong?”
To his regret, far too much was wrong. Including the fact that he couldn’t court this lady in the open as he wanted to. He wasn’t accustomed to secrecy and deceit.
On the other hand, this promised to be a beautiful day, he had nowhere else that he had to be, and the loveliest girl in England had abandoned a nice warm bed to seek his company.
“By Harry, you came,” he said and cursed his clumsiness. At home, he was accounted a charmer, but Lady Imogen put him off-kilter in a way he’d never experienced. The scale of his hopes seemed so impossible compared to what was feasible in the world they inhabited.
“I told you I would.” She didn’t seem to mind his lack of address. A happy smile curled her lips. Such full, pink lips.
With dawn’s approach, the light strengthened. Caleb had only seen Lady Imogen in daylight once before, when his patron’s daughter had brought her friends in to meet him, the way she might show them some exotic, caged animal.
Then he’d been painfully aware that he couldn’t pay too much attention to Imogen, although he’d burned to feast his eyes on her. In the end, he’d cast her only a few stolen glances. But this morning, he could linger to take in that shining black hair; the brightness of her dark blue eyes; the creamy whiteness of her skin.
“I’m glad.” He couldn’t help smiling back. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Black.”
His smile intensified. He was far from convinced that his serious interest in this girl, his first serious interest in a girl, would end in anything other than disaster. But right now, the privilege of her company outweighed the threat of future heartache.
“Given we’re breaking a million rules by meeting, I hope we can dispense with formalities. My name is Caleb.”
He stepped forward to narrow the gap between them. In his opinion, any gap between them was too large. That intriguing smile broadened. It hinted at spice to accompany her alluring sweetness.
Of course there was spice. Wasn’t this the girl who had made a secret rendezvous with a rake, then tarried to enchant a lonely American instead?
“Perhaps not a million…Caleb.”
The sound of his name on her lips had him advancing another step. The sun just appeared over the treetops surrounding this walled garden. The gold light lit Lady Imogen to fire. “I like hearing you say that.”
“So do I.”
By Jericho, he had to kiss her or he’d go mad. He spoke in a sudden rush and extended his hand. “We’re too close to the house. The servants will soon be about. Will you come with me…Imogen?”
Her wide eyes became impossibly wider. They were an extraordinary color. A rim of black around the iris deepened the shade almost to violet. Heaven help him, she was lovely. No wonder suitors crowded about her, clamoring for her attention.
But right now, he didn’t have to share her with anyone else. What a lucky devil he was.
Caleb waited for a demurral. After all, he hadn’t yet told her that his intentions were honorable, however questionable his methods of pursuing them. But after a second’s hesitation, she accepted his hand. At the contact, her gasp of shock mirrored the sharp leap of his heart.
He’d touched her hand several times, which was scandalous enough, given that he was a lowborn foreigner and she was a noble lady. On those occasions, she’d worn gloves. This was the first time skin had encountered skin.
Her hand was cool, just as the air was cool. But warm life pulsed under those chill fingers.
As her spectacular eyes darkened to indigo, her smile faltered. The porcelain skin heated to pink, and her lips parted on a tremulous breath.
“Caleb…” she began, as he firmed his hold and drew her across the dewy grass to the arch on the other side of the garden.
“Not yet. There’s a summerhouse near the lakes that should give us some privacy.”
The three lakes at Prestwick Place were famous. He wondered how Lord Tierney would react if he knew that his landscape architect hadn’t spent his first day in the country scoping out ideas for the new gardens. Instead, he’d been looking for places where he could get Imogen Ridley to himself.
This time, Imogen’s soft gasp expressed anticipation instead of shock. She didn’t resist the pull of his hand. “Another gazebo?”
“I’ve become very fond of gazebos. Very useful buildings. The Tierneys may find themselves with a forest of gazebos. At least a dozen.”
A choked gurgle of laughter greeted his whimsy. “An excellent plan.”
He hurried her across a small patch of open lawn behind the walled garden and into a coppice. “You’re trembling. Are you frightened?”
“No.” She paused. “Or perhaps a little. Papa would have a fit if he knew what I was up to.”
The prospect of a furious Lord Deerforth pursuing his daughter and wrecking Caleb’s plans was daunting. “Is he here?”
When the Tierneys dined at home, Caleb joined them and kept his ears open for mention of Imogen or her family. He now knew that she had a straitlaced older brother, who sounded like a bit of a bore, and a father notorious for his irascible temper and vaunting ambition. The vaunting ambition didn’t come as news, given his plans for an advantageous match for Imogen. The irascible temper reminded Caleb to be careful in his dealings with this girl. She took far more serious risks than he did.
Every time he saw her, being careful became more difficult. He wanted to make her his and tell all those eligible suitors to jump into Lord Halston’s famous lakes.
“No, Papa had political business in London. He’s entrusted me to the Lumsdens, our neighbors in Gloucestershire. And as usual, Stella is here to chaperone me.”
“Stella is your cousin?” The Tierneys disapproved of Lord Deerforth’s behavior toward his niece. Apparently he treated her like a servant. Worse than a servant. At least he paid his servants.
“Yes, she’s a darling – mostly.”
They followed a wooded path that skirted the edge of the wildest of the lakes. A rising slope hid Caleb and Imogen from the house. The setting had been designed with theatrical intent. Cunningly placed paths offered a glimpse of a view, then the surprise of a wide vista when one least expected it. “Will she miss you this morning?”
“She won’t check on me. She trusts me. Even if she does wonder where I am, she won’t be surprised to hear I couldn’t resist exploring the grounds. I’d rather be outdoors than inside.”
“So would I.” They shared a smile at finding something in common.
He wasn’t surprised that she led an active life. Most London ladies minced around, but Imogen walked as though she was going somewhere and intended to reach her destination as soon as she could.
Anticipation buzzed in his blood, once the summerhouse’s black-tiled roof appeared over the bare tops of the trees. He led Imogen onto a point that came out at a small bay. A graceful white stone building was tucked into the trees on the other side.
“The Temple of Diana,” Imogen said.
Surprised, Caleb glanced at her. “You’ve been here before?”
When she stepped up beside him, the warmth of her body whispered an invitation to close the mere inch between them. “No, Papa had a folio of etchings of the estate. This was one of the loveliest pictures in the book. It’s even lovelier in real life.”
She was interested in gardens? He turned to ask her, but she already forged ahead, keeping her hand in his. All thoughts of landscape abandoned him, despite garden design being his constant obsession.
“Let’s take a closer look.” She glanced back, eagerness sparkling in her eyes. Was Imogen just as frantic to explore this attraction burning between them as he was?
He hurried to catch her and took the lead. Somehow they both ended up running, hampered by their linked hands but neither willing to relinquish the physical connection.
By the time Caleb dashed up the stone stairs to the pillared doorway, he was breathless. More with excitement than exertion. He burst into the rotunda and stopped in the middle of a black and white floor tiled in radiating triangles.
Releasing his hand, Imogen stopped a foot away and stared at him. With trembling fingers, he reached out to smooth the stray tendrils of hair that escaped to frame her glowing face. Tenderly he brushed back the errant strands, before he cupped the back of her head. She stood unmoving, as he bent his head and brushed his lips across hers.
The contact was over in an instant, but an impression of warmth and sweetness lingered.
“Caleb?” she murmured, slowly opening the eyes that she’d closed when he kissed her.
His hand tightened in her hair, which turned out to be even silkier than it looked. He slid his other hand around her waist. Under his palm, she was as supple as a willow wand.
“Again?” he whispered, although their only witness was the stone statue of Diana in the niche behind Imogen.
She tilted forward in silent encouragement. “Yes, please.”
He smiled. Something about her politeness made him want to hug her.
Caleb angled her face higher. This time, he paused to let his senses bask in the cushiony softness of her lips and the enticing scent of her skin. The first time they were together, he’d noticed that she smelled of flowers. She still smelled like flowers, as if she was part of the spring that burgeoned around them.
She curled her arms around him and clung closer. Her wordless encouragement sent reaction crashing through him. The next time he kissed her, her lips moved under his in the beginnings of response. He drew her closer and deepened the kiss.
When she made a muffled sound, he raised his head. In her flushed face, her eyes were vivid blue. And dazed with surprise and awakening sensual awareness.