Title:
Sweet Deception
(Veiled Seduction 2)
Author:
Heather Snow
Release
Date: December 15, 2016
Publisher:
Bluestocking Books Publishing
Category:
Regency Romance
Type:
Digital/Paperback
Blurb:
The spy she once loved…
After years as
England’s most elusive double agent, Lord Derick Aveline has vowed to leave his
days of espionage behind. Though he’d like nothing more than to make a fresh
start in the Americas, he first must complete one last mission for the Crown—to
unmask a deadly traitor. But to do that, he must return to the one place he’d
vowed never to go again…home.
The girl who always saw through him…
Lady criminologist,
Miss Emma Wallingford, can scarcely believe the dandy who waltzes back into Derbyshire
is the same man who left without a word a decade ago, taking her heart with
him. What’s worse, he is poking his nose where it no longer belongs, which
threatens all she holds dear. Still, it doesn’t take long to deduce the
truth…that Derick is not who he is pretending to be. And, he’s hunting the same
murder as she.
Though she suspects
he’s only back in her life until the killer is found, Emma is determined to
convince Derick to stay this time. Will their re-found love prove true? Or is
it all just a Sweet Deception?
Favorite
Line:
“You were rather useful in the search for Molly,” Emma
admitted. “And I can see where having you beneath me could prove quite
satisfactory.” ~ Emma
Dialogue
Highlight:
“Derick?” George seemed to fight
to place him. “Do you mean Aveline? That young rascal you once set your cap
for?” he asked, and rather loudly, in that annoying way only older brothers
could manage.
Emma darted her eyes to the open
door of the parlor. “I was fifteen, George,” she whispered furiously, bending
low so her mouth was right by his ear. Thankfully, Derick was too far away yet
to have heard.
. . .
Then, almost like the
contradiction he seemed to be, he took a languid step toward her. The odd light
that entered his eyes made Emma’s belly go all aquiver with foreboding, and
something else.
“Did you really set your cap for
me, Emma?”
Emma gasped, and it was all
Derick could do not to grin at the way her eyes widened and her lips spread
thin in horrified affront. Her poor cheeks turned the color of succulent
late-summer cherries.
“H-how did you hear that from all
the way out in the hall?”she sputtered.
In retrospect, it mightn’t have
been the wisest thing to tip his hand as to how very observant he could be, but
he hadn’t been able to resist. Her reaction was better than he’d expected, and
truly, he hadn’t had this much fun baiting someone in—well, since he used to
bait her as a girl.
A lot of memories had surfaced
last night as he lay in his bed at the castle. He’d never slept well in the
drafty old pile. The recollections were inevitable, he supposed, given that he
was here. Luckily, most of them had been pleasant. Many about Emma,
actually—and how ridiculously easy she’d been to tease—always taking everything
so literally, even for a child.
He ignored her question, of course.
“Well, did you? Set your cap for me, that is? You were all of twelve, Emma.”
“I was fifteen!”she exclaimed,
flustered and then those amber eyes widened even more, if such a thing were
possible, as she realized what she’d just admitted. “And what does that mean,
anyway? Granted, I’ll be the first to agree that most things in the world can
be explained through numbers, but I never did understand at precisely what
degree of angle one sets one’s cap to attract a man. And why that should . . .
matter . . . anyway.”Emma curled her lips around her teeth, clamping her mouth
shut along with her eyes.
Excerpt: (from
Ms. Snow website)
By
reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.
If you
are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
The group seemed to be
waiting for something, or someone. Derick shifted more into the corner until he
found a break in the wall of people large enough to see through.
Ah, the source of the
mysterious voice, he’d wager. The woman stood at the head of the table, but he
could not see her face, as she was leaning over a large square of paper that
was rolled out across the polished mahogany. Her position made it difficult to
gauge her height as well, but there was no mistaking the ample curves her
simple muslin dress couldn’t hide.
Her well-tailored frock was
a vibrant green, the dye not faded as a castoff would be. A lady of quality,
then. One slender hand braced her as she marked furiously upon the paper. The
tilt of her head and the way she held herself in determined focus niggled at
his memory. Derick tried to place her, but locks of chestnut hair had slipped
her coiffure, obscuring even her profile from him. He turned his attention to
the paper and squinted his eyes in the low light. That looked suspiciously like
. . . A discarded frame caught his attention then, propped up against the wall.
His eyes snapped back to the table, to the blotchy inked areas the mystery woman
was currently drawing lines through.
She was scribbling all over
an irreplaceable Burnett map of the countryside, commissioned by his
grandfather over half a century ago. He should be appalled. But Derick had long
ago shed any care for the trappings of the viscountcy. Instead, he eyed the
scene with detached curiosity, angling for the best way to use it to his
purposes. Hmmm. Outrage would be precisely what people would expect of the
“pampered aristocrat”persona he typically used for these missions. And Little
Miss Map Despoiler had given him the perfect opening. All he had to do was take
the stage she’d inadvertently set for him.
“What the devil are you
doing?” he barked as he pushed off from the wall. His exclamation had the
desired effect. A chorus of gasps registered, but Derick ignored them as he
reached the head of the table in three long strides and snatched the priceless
map from atop it.
He rolled the map with
deceptive casualness, the dry paper making a hissing sound against his palms in
the now otherwise silent room. He raised a brow and injected a supercilious
tone into his voice as he turned to the woman standing frozen before him.
“Do you mind telling me just
who you are”—his gaze traveled up her slim body in an intentionally arrogant
perusal—“and why you are vandalizing my property?”
The last word caught in his
throat as his eyes finally reached hers.
A flash of memory came, of a
scrawny blond pest who’d trailed behind him every summer like an unwanted
hound, a little hoyden with unforgettably wide amber eyes. No longer a blonde,
he noted.
And no longer a girl, his
baser side chimed in. Derick pressed his lips together, hard. Damnation. The
neighbor girl, Miss Wallingford.
Anna? Ella? No, Emma. Derick
was surprised he recalled her Christian name. He’d always just called her
Pygmy. She’d hated the nickname, thinking he was poking fun at her tiny
stature. There was that, but he’d really given her the moniker because her
golden eyes and tenacious nature had reminded him of the pygmy owlets that hunted
these hills at twilight.
She was apparently still a
pest—and one already interfering with his plans, even if she couldn’t possibly
know it.
Miss Wallingford’s wide gaze
narrowed, and her mouth flattened in what was certainly pique. Derick waited
for her answer, tapping the rolled-up map against the highly polished walnut
tabletop in feigned irritation.
Well, mostly feigned. This
wasn’t quite the foot he’d hoped to get off on with Miss Wallingford. As sister
of the local magistrate, she could prove integral to his mission. He’d intended
to call on her at her home, play on their childhood friendship—if one could
call it that—to gain better access to her brother. Not snap her head off in
front of a room full of witnesses.
But what was done was done.
Derick had learned long ago that the key to a good deception was to always go
on as one had begun. He would brazen through, play his part and find a way to
sweeten Miss Wallingford later. Emma Wallingford had never felt so riveted to
one spot in her entire life. It was as if she were carved out of marble, much
like the statues of the Greek scholars she’d so admired on her only trip to
London. Move, Emma, you ninny!
What was this abominable
awareness? Her logical mind told her it was only Derick. Yet her stomach fluttered,
forcing her to amend that thought. Yes, it was Derick, but he was also . .
.more. His hair was still black as night, thick and unruly, yet the lines of
his face were more angular now, more chiseled. His shoulders seemed wider, his
hips more narrow. His eyes hadn’t changed, though. They still glittered like
fiery emeralds and still gazed at her as if she were the bane of his existence,
sent by Hades himself with the express purpose of bedeviling him.
“My—my lord.”Billingsly,
Aveline Castle’s aged butler, brushed past her, his stooped form cutting
through her line of sight, rescuing her from Derick’s hard green gaze. Emma
dropped her eyes to the floor, grateful for the moment to collect herself as
the chaos of stammered excuses erupted around her. His arrival shouldn’t be
such a shock to her—the entire village knew he was due today. Only she hadn’t
intended to come anywhere near Aveline Castle while he was in residence, but
then Billingsly’s note had arrived and—
Emma gasped. How could she
have forgotten? She, of all people, didn’t forget things like that.
Taking advantage of the
continued distraction, she stepped forward and plucked the map from Derick’s
loosened grasp, berating herself for loss of focus. She spread it out on the
table and resumed drawing the border she’d started. With dusk coming, time had
become critical.
The voices around her
stilled abruptly, and Emma could have sworn she felt Derick’s gaze boring into
her more surely than Archimedes’famed screw. Which was impossible, of course,
as a mere gaze had no actual physical properties.
She didn’t look up from her
task as she said, “I’m certain Lord Scarsdale will agree that explanations can
wait until after we find his missing upstairs maid.”
Review:
Derick
Aveline, Viscount Scarsdale is a spy – traitor hunter to be exact - for the
English government. He hasn’t been home in many years and just on the cusp of
retiring, he is pulled back to the responsibilities of his viscountcy as a ruse
to conduct an investigation. He never could have imagined just how deep this
investigation would take him, or that there could possibly be a murderer in
their midst. Also knocking him for a loop is the highly intelligent,
mathematician, Emma Wallingford. She was a bit of a pest in their younger
years, but she has grown into a force Derick has not yet encountered; nor one
he can resist. She stirs feelings he has shut down for so long, dreams he has
thought impossible. But Derick believes himself nonredeemable – unable to atone
for his past sins as a spy – not worthy of his deep desires.
Emma
Wallingford is a brilliant mind. She looks at everything as a math problem –
something that can be solved and rationalized logically. Her brain, in fact, is
a bit of a handicap in that she flopped in her London season. Women like her
are few and far between; definitely not marriage material within the ton. Emma
has also been in love with Derick since childhood. His sudden appearance doesn’t
quite make sense and she’s determined to figure out what he’s doing there and
what his future plans are. Emma never thought he might be continuing to work
for the government. She discovers that he does not see himself as “good enough”
for her. After all the lies of omission are cleared away, she’s renewed with
new purpose. Find the traitor and save Derick from himself.
I just
love Ms. Snow. She has a magical way of tuning bookish, highly intelligent
women, into some of the best female leads I have come across within HR novels. I
remember reading the first book in this series as an ARC, and somehow never got
around to this one. Not quite sure how I overlooked this gem, but you can be
sure I’ll be reading the rest of the series as well. I truly enjoyed Emma’s
literal mind and her difficulty with colloquialisms. There were several fun
areas in which she unknowingly misinterprets a common idiom, eliciting a
chuckle from me each time. Derick was quite a fun character to spend time with as
well. I always enjoy the inner thoughts of the male struggling with new
emotions and trying to figure out where the devil they came from. 😊 Also entertaining is the fine line balanced with
Derick’s struggle with revealing too much, versus not precisely telling a lie.
Ah, the life of a spy.
Knowing
the first book, and now reading this one, I can say it is not necessary to read
SWEET ENEMY first. There are brief mentions of the previous main characters,
but nothing that interferes with the assimilation of this story. This book is a
fabulous Historical HEA that is guaranteed to satisfy. I highly recommend the
first two books in the series and am confident the others would be just as
wonderful. Heather Snow is easily an author who is an automatic read that will
hold a coveted place upon my bookshelf. If you haven’t experienced the pleasure
of her books, you are committing a disservice to yourself.
Kindle version
provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
