Review: Sweet Deception by Heather Snow (Veiled Seduction 2)

Title: Sweet Deception

          (Veiled Seduction 2)

Author: Heather Snow

Release Date: December 15, 2016

Publisher: Bluestocking Books Publishing

Category: Regency Romance

Type: Digital/Paperback

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Heather Snow Website

Blurb:

The spy she once loved…

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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.

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The girl who always saw through him…

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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.

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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.