Lady Unveiled ~ The Cuckold Conspiracy by Beverley Oakley (Spotilight, excerpt, and GIVEAWAY) GFT

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Lady Unveiled ~ The Cuckold Conspiracy

(Final in the Daughters of Sin series, book 5)

by Beverley Oakley

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GENRE: Historical Romantic Suspense (Regency)

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BLURB:

Four very different sisters compete for love during an exciting London season: a celebrated actress with a heart of gold, a shy yet daring wallflower, and the artistic, illegitimate daughter of a nobleman.

Caught up in a high-stakes game of intrigue and deceit orchestrated by their sister, the ton's reigning beauty, each must play their part to bring a dangerous traitor to justice while finding a man deserving of their love and special talents.

The gentlemen of the ton are about to discover a woman made just for them.

If you enjoy Delilah Marvelle and Liz Carlyle, you'll love Daughters of Sin, a series that combines sensuous Regency romance with lashings of mystery and intrigue.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

Kitty stared through a chink in the curtain at the three of them sitting in the cramped parlor: her elder sister, Lissa, together with Lissa’s faithful beau, Ralph. And there between them was her beautiful half-sister, Araminta, whose showy presence in this run-down hovel was so utterly unexpected.

She was horrified and fascinated in equal measure. Why had Ralph been so blunt about plotting against Araminta’s husband?

Ralph poured Araminta another brandy and pushed the glass across the table. “Debenham never professed to like me.” He leaned back and studied Araminta’s tense, mutinous face. “I sometimes wonder why he keeps employing me other than that he’s too lazy to find someone else to keep his affairs in order. I assure you that with regard to his financial matters I am entirely honest. But, by all means, tell him I have the letter and plan to use it against him, if you wish, Lady Debenham.” He raised his hands, palm upwards. “My belief, however, is that an outcome more conducive to your future security and happiness can be achieved through you joining your efforts with ours.”

Araminta’s shoulders dropped. She looked aghast, just as Lissa did, and Kitty felt.

Ralph put his head on one side. “Am I to infer that you want that letter so urgently now because you plan to use it as insurance against what you fear your husband might find out about you, Lady Debenham?”

Araminta did not react with the outrage Kitty had expected. After taking a deep breath, knocking back the brandy in one mouthful, she clasped her hands together and began calmly, “Debenham told me in idle conversation of a little matter he’d heard about… that he is fact, investigating which, he believes, could be of financial benefit to him since he knows that to reveal the truth would ruin…someone’s reputation.” Her mouth trembled and Kitty could see the sheen of sweat on her brow from her hiding place just a few feet away as Araminta went on, “Every hint he dropped suggested the person in question could be me. You’re in a position to discover what I need to know, Mr Tunley. You shall be well rewarded if you can tell me exactly who my husband is investigating and what he knows.”

Ralph betrayed no surprise though Kitty was astonished that Araminta would be so forthcoming. Still, if she wanted Ralph’s help, Kitty supposed she’d need to tell him this, and more.

Rising, Ralph began to pace, his brow creased in thought. “You’ve given me very little go to on, Lady Debenham, other than that you believe your reputation is in danger. You’ve also said nothing to my earlier suggestion.”

“What!? That I betray my husband on the promise of safeguards to ensure that I am not ruined in consequence?” Araminta looked perplexed. “Are you more than just my husband’s lowly secretary? This investigation… Are you involved, personally? You’ve intimated as much, yet you live here? Why should I believe your grandiose claims?” She was gaining confidence as she spoke, as if a plan was slowly forming in her mind. Kitty could read the signs. Araminta had always been devious. Suddenly she was afraid for Ralph.

Yet Ralph just lounged by the fireplace, watching her with interest as she went on, “I could tell Debenham you’re plotting against him and he would do his worst.” She smiled her calculating smile and added, “But if you help me, I won’t.”

“Oh, so you’re blackmailing me now, are you Lady Debenham?”

“Of course not! I’m just suggesting to you what you suggested to me earlier, but using different words.”

“Don’t be puerile, Araminta,” Lissa bristled. “You are threatening Ralph, if I ever heard it, yet Ralph is the only one who can help you, which is why you came here tonight.”

Araminta looked at her, outraged, then burst into tears. “Don’t be angry. I’m not blackmailing anyone. I’m just terrified of what Debenham will do to me…”

“Do you mean, if he uncovers the truth about you, Araminta?” Lissa supplied. Her nose twitched as if she’d suddenly come in contact with something very unpleasant. “And what, exactly, might the truth be?

And you can buy Lady Unveiled~The Cuckold Conspiracy here:

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

About Beverley Oakley

Beverley was seventeen when she bundled up her first 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Rejection followed swiftly. Drowning one’s heroine on the last page, she was informed, was not in line with the expectations of romance readers.

So Beverley became a journalist.

After a whirlwind romance with a handsome Norwegian bush pilot she met in Botswana, Beverley discovered her “Happy Ever After”, saved her heroine from drowning in her next manuscript and had her first Regency romance published in 2009.

Since then, she’s written more than fifteen sizzling historical romances laced with mystery, intrigue and suspense under the name Beverley Oakley.

She also writes psychological historicals, and Colonial-Africa-set romantic suspense, as Beverley Eikli.

With an inspiring view of a Gothic nineteenth-century insane asylum across the road, Beverley lives north of Melbourne with her gorgeous husband, two lovely daughters and rambunctious Rhodesian Ridgeback, Mombo, named after the Okavango Delta safari lodge where she and her husband met.

She loves it when readers get in touch, and you can find out more on her website: www.beverleyoakley.com

Or catch up with her here:

Facebook

Twitter: @BeverleyOakley

Pinterest

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GIVEAWAY


a Rafflecopter giveaway


The tour dates can be found here

Dangerous Gentlemen by Beverley Oakley (spotlight, excerpt and GIVEAWAY) RBC tour ADULT title

Dangerous Gentlemen

Daughters of Sin Book 2
 ADULT title

By Beverley Oakley
is releasing on Jan. 21, 2016
 

Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and 1 ebook of Her Gilded Prison (Book 1 in the Daughters of Sin). 

Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. 

Those locations may be found here. 

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Dangerous Gentlemen BLURB:


 

Shy, self-effacing Henrietta knows her place—in her dazzling older sister’s shadow. She’s a little brown peahen to Araminta’s bird of paradise. But when Hetty mistakenly becomes embroiled in the Regency underworld, the innocent debutante finds herself shockingly compromised by the dashing, dangerous Sir Aubrey, the very gentleman her heart desires. And the man Araminta has in her cold, calculating sights.

Branded an enemy of the Crown, bitter over the loss of his wife, Sir Aubrey wants only to lose himself in the warm, willing body of the young “prostitute” Hetty. As he tutors her in the art of lovemaking, Aubrey is pleased to find Hetty not only an ardent student, but a bright, witty and charming companion.

Despite a spoiled Araminta plotting for a marriage offer and a powerful political enemy damaging his reputation, Aubrey may suffer the greatest betrayal at the hands of the little “concubine” who’s managed to breach the stony exterior of his heart.

 

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Excerpt: 

In this excerpt, Hetty, a debutante and viscount’s daughter, is returning from the mending room at a ball when she learns that a certain interesting and ‘dangerous gentleman’ is a house-guest.

With a furtive look around her, Hetty hurried left and up the stairs, at which point two corridors at right angles disappeared into darkness. Choosing the one to the right, she found herself face-to-face with a series of closed doors.

Foolish, she chided herself. Of course they were closed and she could hardly open them. As she turned back toward the ballroom, a faint light shining from the crack beneath a door that was slightly ajar gleamed beckoningly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she approached it, and when she gave the door a little nudge with her foot, it swung open.

Excitement rippled through her.

“Hello?” she asked in a low voice. She took another step into the room. “Is anyone in here?”

Silence. A low fire burned in the grate before which was a table, against which were propped several items, including a familiar silver-topped cane. Her breath caught. The last time she’d seen that cane was when Sir Aubrey had exchanged several words with Araminta in the street as Hetty had been bringing up the rear with Mrs. Monks. Of course Sir Aubrey had not looked twice at her, excusing himself before having to be introduced to the younger sister and the chaperone who’d nearly closed the gap.

Heart hammering, Hetty closed the door behind her and went to pick up the cane.

How fortunate to have stumbled into Sir Aubrey’s room, she thought when she observed the fine coat lying upon the bed, apparently discarded in favor of what he was wearing tonight.

He really was a nonpareil, wearing his clothes as if they were an extension of his athletic physique.

Yet he was dangerous, she had to remind herself. Meaning she should not be here, which of course she shouldn’t, regardless of whether he was dangerous or not.

But how such a scion of good breeding and genteel society could be guilty of such a heinous crime as treason, Hetty could not imagine. And surely the story of the runaway wife was a gilded one. It was all the stuff of make-believe and Cousin Stephen was only telling Hetty he was dangerous to curb her schoolroom daydreams.

Turning, she saw half protruding from beneath the suit of clothes what appeared to be the edge of a silver, filigreed box. It was partly obscured by the overhang of the counterpane, as if it hadn’t properly been returned to its hiding place.

A moment’s indecision made her pause but soon Hetty was crouching on the floor, closing clammy fingers around the box. Might it contain secrets? Ones that would reveal, conclusively, what Cousin Stephen claimed was true?

Alternatively, proof that would exonerate Sir Aubrey?

Hetty fumbled for the catch. Dear Lord, this was too exciting for words. Perhaps Sir Aubrey was a secret agent working for the English, and Stephen had no idea.

Perhaps he was—

Protesting door hinges made her squeal as the door was flung wide. Hetty let the lid of the box fall and retreated into the shadows as Sir Aubrey strode into the room.

He was breathing heavily as he shrugged off his jacket with a curse, raindrops spattering into the hissing fire as he raked his fingers through his hair. A curious stillness overtook him and he froze, obviously sensing all was not as he left it.

He sniffed the air. “Orange flower water,” he muttered, stepping closer to the fire, fumbling for the tinderbox on the mantelpiece to light a candle.

Immediately he was thrown into sharp relief and as he stared at Hetty, it was not his look of shock and suspicion that made her scream—but the copious amounts of blood that stained his shirtsleeves and once snowy linen cravat.

“God Almighty, who are you?” he demanded as his gaze raked her finery. “You’re no parlor maid, that’s for certain.”

Gaping, unable to formulate a sensible answer, Hetty finally managed, “What happened to your arm, Sir Aubrey? Are you injured?”

“Sir Aubrey, is it? So you know who I am but you still haven’t told me who you are?” He grunted as he looked down at his arm, the bloodied linen shredded over the long graze. “It’s not as bad as it looks and I assure you, I gave a good account of myself.” His laugh was more a sneer. 

 “Indeed, my assailant lies dead in the gutter.”

Hetty gasped. “Dueling?” Myriad questions crowded her mind. Could this be to do with Araminta? Had Sir Aubrey left Araminta in the middle of the ball to fight some other contender for her affections?

“Dueling?” he repeated. He shook his head and Hetty drew back at the coldness in his eyes. “There was nothing noble about my activities this evening. I was set upon in a dark alley. A short scuffle ensued, I drew my knife, then…” With his hand, he made a gesture like the slitting of his throat, adding, “I am slightly wounded but as I said, my attacker does not live to repeat the insult.”

Her horror clearly amused him, for his eyes narrowed while his generous mouth quirked. He looked like an incarnation of the most handsome demon she’d ever seen depicted in the fairy stories she loved to read.

“We all have enemies, madam. Enemies who must be eliminated if we are to breathe freely.”

***

Aubrey was enjoying the girl’s wide-eyed terror. No doubt she imagined he’d sliced the throat of a footpad, not the snarling, mangy cur who had leapt upon him as he’d been returning from his brief assignation to settle a gaming debt incurred by his favorite reprobate nephew.

Taking pity on her, he said reassuringly, “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.’ Her wide-eyed look as he removed first his jacket, then the bloodied shirt he tossed upon the bed before he rose to his full height, bare chested, afforded him the most amusement he’d had in a long time. “So, you’re the girl Madame Chambon sent?”



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Meet the Author: 

Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.

Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances filled with mystery, intrigue and adventure. Most are set in London ballrooms and country estates during the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth-century lunatic asylum. She also writes less steamy historicals and romantic suspense set in Colonial Africa, where she was born, as Beverley Eikli.

Beverley's Links:  

Website | Blog | Mailing List | Twitter | Facebook | Facebook 

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