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Mind by Kristen McLean. Please leave a comment or question for Kristen
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Changing the Earl's Mind
by
Kristen McLean
The
Lords of Whitehall, Book 3
Genre:
Historical Romance
A
man who knows everything…
For
nearly a decade, Drake Ramsey, the disciplined and logical Earl of Saint
Brides, has been the driving force behind the Home Office; meeting with foreign
leaders to negotiate treaties, spurring a lethargic Parliament into action, and
directing a secret army of spies. The last thing he wants to find while taking
a well-deserved vacation is a dangerous fugitive. Nevertheless, when he catches
a beautiful murderess hiding in his hunting cabin, he has little choice but to
bring her to justice, landing himself in a battle for control he could never
hope to win.
…meets
a woman determined to prove him wrong.
Marrying
a stranger simply to gain access to her dowry and travel the world, admittedly,
was the biggest mistake of Sarah Tindall’s life. In fact, she would readily
admit to making several big mistakes. Killing her husband, however, is not one
of them. When a starchy lord takes it upon himself to bring her to a London
prison, she is determined to escape him and prove her innocence, yet every
attempt ends with her back in her handsome captor’s arms. Even if her innocence
is proven, his forbidden and passionate kisses leave her uncertain if escape
was ever an option.
*WARNING*
This
work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active
characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age or older. Please
do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, and explicit language offends
you.
**Can
easily be read as a standalone!**
“Trouble?” He echoed the vague response as though he hadn’t heard it more times than he could count.She nodded.“Mrs. Tindall, nearly everyone on this miserable planet is in some sort of trouble. It doesn’t explain why you have invaded my hunting cabin or threatened to shoot me.”He was not prepared for the interrogation of an impertinent beauty in the moors. He was prepared for solitude and quiet, relaxation. Or, in the very least, a moment of self-reflection followed by a week of wallowing in depression.“With what gun? I am unarmed,” she pointed out.“I said threatened,” he emphasized. “Had you been armed, would you have shot me?”Large, hazel eyes focused steadily on him. “Yes.”Now his head began to throb, and his teeth ached from the pressure of his jaw.“Where is your husband, Mrs. Tindall?”“I am a grown woman, plenty old enough to be about on my own.”She didn’t look a day past twenty, but he was in no mood to dispute anything that wasn’t completely necessary. It was too much damned effort, especially compounded with the effort needed to ignore her—or more accurately, to ignore his body’s response to her.The dress she wore was threadbare and torn, showing shapely ankles disappearing into ragged half boots. Her sleeve had been ripped at the shoulder, sliding down her arm and sending the neckline dangerously low on her generous bosom. He fought to keep his attention on her face, but even that was a distraction. Her eyes were ethereally vivid, her mouth full and wide, and her neck a lovely arch beneath it all.Bloody hell, why her? Why him? What god or demon had he insulted so gravely as to deserve this? All he wanted was a damned holiday, a well-deserved one, he might add.“You are Mrs. Tindall,” he said doggedly. “Surely there’s a Mr. Tindall?”“Yes, there was… but he is no longer amongst the living.”His fists clenched at his sides, forcing himself to calm. She was a widow. Good manners dictated he grant her some measure of consideration.“I am sorry to hear it. When did this happen?”“Two days ago.”To his credit, the curse that nearly flew from his mouth stayed obediently behind his teeth.Two days? A landlord who evicted a woman immediately after the death of her husband ought to be publicly flogged, and Drake would jump at the chance to administer the punishment. Particularly since, in this case, it meant she had been booted out of her home and into his hunting cabin.“Have you no family or friends who can take you in?”“No,” she said. “I know two or three people, but no one I could impose upon.”“Of course not,” he muttered. “Why impose upon those you know when there is a perfectly good stranger handy.”Her eyes flashed. “Under the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly ask someone I hardly know to shelter me.”“Circumstances,” he echoed. “Circumstances being the death of your husband? Is that the trouble you have found yourself in?”She looked away. “More or less.”
Kristen McLean
is a regency-era romance novelist with a flair for humor and suspense. She has
always had a love of novels, with a special place in her heart for historical
romance. Now she has the pleasure of writing at home, tucked away in a forest
with her husband, two children, and their cat. Her husband is loving and
impressively patient, their two beautiful children strive to embarrass and
exhaust her, and the cat hates everyone, but tolerates—well, she tolerates
whoever will feed her.
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