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By Liz Carlyle

In her astonishing new old trilogy, New York Times bestselling writer Liz Carlyle plunges readers into the steamy underworld of nineteenth-century London. one of the swirling glitter of English excessive society, a scandalous rogue will get greater than he bargained for within the girl of his desires.

Lord Nash is a creature of the evening -- his wealth and name offer yet a tenuous entrée into well mannered society. infamous for his refined manners and a gloomy, rushing beauty, rumors abound of the boys he has bankrupted and the ladies he is left heartbroken. but if Nash leaves his lair for an extraordinary foray into the ton, he faces a trap of temptation all his personal -- a rare second of ardour with a mysterious girl within the moonlight -- and an obsession that might lead him right into a hellish international of smugglers, spies, and intrigue. And as for his damsel in conceal, the witty and gorgeous pass over Xanthia Neville, he quickly learns, is as unimaginable as she is tempting. And now Nash needs to make a decision if she can be risky. . . .

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No, he most likely had now not even been at domestic. She drew in a deep, steadying breath. The stench of dust and decay was once robust alongside the wharf, yet inured to it, Xanthia drew her cloak tighter and paced all the way down to the water’s facet. under, a faint wake sloshed regularly on the stone steps, which descended into the murky present. within the distance, she may perhaps see the lighting fixtures of Lambeth gleaming like gauzy yellow cotton balls within the murk. It needs to be nearing dead night now. No self-respecting sybarite will be by myself at such an hour. He used to be most likely throwing the cube in Covent Garden—or wallowing within the hands of a few dasher. At that proposal, Xanthia squeezed her eyes close. What a pathetic gudgeon she used to be! after all the guy had fanatics. Many lovers—and he uninterested in them simply. He had instructed her so, in simple language. He definitely don't need to bestir himself in the midst of the evening to walk the riverbank looking for a clandestine romance—or no matter what it was once Xanthia intended to supply him. No, he was once no longer coming. And it was once simply in addition. She used to be simply fooling herself if she believed that this late-night escapade were approximately not anything however the safeguard of Neville’s delivery routes. It was once approximately Nash—about her fascination with him. yet she, too, had her satisfaction. along with, she was once freezing to loss of life within the damp. alongside Abingdon highway above, she might pay attention a watchman calling the hour, his voice surprisingly disembodied within the fog. virtually an hour had handed in view that she had trigger in this ill-thought escapade. It felt like an eternity. Xanthia was once securing her cloak in coaching to move whilst she heard the footsteps at the cobblestones, as disembodied because the watchman’s cry. She was once no longer completely definite from which course they got here until eventually a gloomy shape materialized from the fog, and stepped rapidly earlier her. His top and lean grace have been unmistakable. Xanthia reached out and touched the Marquess of Nash at the arm. He iced up, and rotated as she driven again the brim of her hat. “My pricey omit Neville. ” regardless of the chilliness, he swept off his hat. “Once back, you surprise me. ” In her agitation, Xanthia didn't fairly trap the fearful aspect to his tone. She drew him among a towering pile of stone and a cart weighted down with coal. “You got my word? ” “No, I got here all the way down to queue up early for the following coal barge,” he acknowledged. “We’re clean out in Park Lane. ” Her shoulders fell. “I have disturbed you,” she stated coolly. “My apologies. ” “No. ” He set one hand on her arm, and gentled his voice. “No, my pricey, by no means that. however it isn't secure for a woman to be out so overdue at evening. i might drag you domestic this minute, may perhaps I accomplish that with no threat in your attractiveness. ” “Let me fear approximately my reputation,” she replied. “I wanted to work out you—and I knew you wouldn't come to me. ” “Oh, my pricey girl,” he acknowledged softly. “Whatever for? ” Xanthia shook her head, doubtful of her solution. “After final week—” she begun, then faltered. “After what we did together…I, good, i've been not able to imagine basically. ” “Last week. ” His voice had grown quiet. the strain within Xanthia snapped.

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