"These Regency-era Charlie's Angels are clever and full of surprises."
Reviewed by Suan Wilson
Posted September 16, 2007
Romance Historical
Six months ago, an assassin wounded Emily Redgrave while
she was on assignment for the Crown. Her superior, Lady M,
is reluctant to allow Emily to return to work. After she
pleads her case, Lady M relents and allows Emily an easy
job guarding Grant Ashbury, Lord Westfield, from unknown
enemies. While tailing Grant, Emily discovers her friends
and Lady M have tricked her. Grant, a fellow spy, has no
need of protection. Hurt by their deception, Emily
hesitates to reveal a plot she's uncovered against the
Prince. Instead, she enlists Grant's aid in investigating
and exposing the scheme. Grant Ashbury, Lord Westfield, carries enormous guilt over
the death of a young lady in his last assignment. The Crown
refuses his request to return to his previous duties;
instead, they ask that he protect Emily Redgrave from
threats against her life. Any work at all is helpful and
prevents him from the demons of the botched job that haunt
him regularly. Grant expects an easy job guarding Emily and
is surprised by her secretive outings. At their numerous encounters, Grant finds unforeseen
attraction arising between them. Emily, who never
experienced love with her family or late husband,
encounters new and unwanted feelings. Love has always been
denied her and she cannot trust her fragile feelings. Ms. Peterson draws to a conclusion her clever Regency's
Charlie's Angels series. She convincingly portrays
two emotionally scared characters as they battle to recover
their equilibrium from a disastrous assignment. The ending
contains surprises from Emily's past, and Grant receives an
unforeseen revelation. Ms. Peterson delivers her strongest
story for the last in the trilogy.
SUMMARY
Master spy Emily Redgrave hasn’t been the same since a
night six months ago when she was cut down by a would-be
assassin’s bullet. Though she is physically recovered,
she’s still haunted by memories of the trauma and regrets
for what almost happened. She’s desperate to re-enter the
field and regain her confidence. When she’s assigned to
follow and protect Grant Ashbury, the Earl of Westfield,
she reluctantly accepts, knowing this ‘babysitting’ duty
could very well lead to more advanced cases. What she doesn’t know is that Grant is a troubled spy in
his own right. And he’s just been assigned to follow her by
his own superior officers. But as the two chase each other
around London, they inadvertently uncover a real case and a
magnetic desire that draws them together in shocking,
scandalous ways. Can Grant and Emily overcome their past
traumas and work together? And just who is the mysterious Lady M?
ExcerptThe night air was cold and crisp, but Emily Redgrave hardly
felt it as she pushed the door open and stepped silently
onto the icy parapet. Tonight she didn’t care about the
chill of one of the worst winters on record. She was
escaping her prison. Finally months of planning, weeks of
work, were about to come to fruition. In a few short
moments, she would be free.Her heart pounded as she adjusted the heavy cloak around
her shoulders and insured that the dark hood covered her
hair so the fair color wouldn’t be obvious in the darkness.
She hadn’t had time to perform her usual preparations of
costume and disguise. It was this moment or never if she
wanted to get out. Carefully, she pushed herself up onto the slick ledge.
Balancing there, she glanced down at the garden far below.
A long drop, so she hoped her makeshift rope, bound
together from bed sheets she had been secreting away, would
hold. She squatted to secure one end of the rope to the stone
slats on the terrace wall, then swung down off the ledge.
She cupped her feet together around the knot where she’d
tied the first and second sheet and let out a sigh of
relief when she dangled safely. Well, she hadn’t come crashing to the ground yet. That was
a positive sign. Now she just had to shimmy down fifteen
feet or so and she would be on her way to blessed freedom. Inch by inch, she scooted down the sheet, always keeping
her hands or feet gripped around a knot in her homemade
ladder. From time to time, she glanced down, her breath
steaming up around her cheeks as the ground moved ever
closer and closer. A gust of wind stirred and the sheets swung. She clung to
the soft fabric as she swayed, still far enough from the
ground that a fall would hurt like a bugger if she landed
improperly. She had only just recovered from injuries, the
last thing she needed was more bed rest. She would surely
go mad. Finally, the biting wind died down and she continued her
trek. When her boots hit the ground beneath her, it took
all her willpower not to crow with triumph. One more daring
escape concluded, her first in many months. She gathered
her cloak closer and spun on her heel toward the garden
gate and the busy street outside. Only to find herself facing a man. Charles Isley lifted the
lantern in his gloved hand and gave her a look that could
not be misinterpreted, even in the dim light. “Emily,” he growled, dragging her name out in frustration. She stomped her foot, despite how childish the reaction
was. Shoving her hood away to reveal her face, she glared
at him. “Good evening, Charlie.” “Come inside.” He motioned to the French doors that lead
from the garden into the parlor. It was a command, not a
request and since he was her superior, she had no choice
but to follow that order. She sighed as she entered the bright, warm room. She’d been
so damn close. Charlie shut and latched the doors behind
him as she flopped into the nearest wing back chair and
folded her arms in a final act of defiance. “Emily, Emily…” he began with a shake of his head as he
poured two tumblers of sherry. Handing her one, he took the
chair across from hers and simply stared at her. She pursed her lips as she tried to suppress the swell of
emotion in her chest. Damn him. He could always make her
feel so guilty when she broke protocol or became
overzealous about a case. Now he was doing that in spades.
She ground her teeth. She would not apologize. “How did you know?” she asked instead, setting the
untouched liquor aside. Charlie didn’t get a chance to answer before the door to
the parlor opened. Emily looked up as her two best friends,
Meredith Archer and Anastasia Tyler entered the room. Meredith folded her arms and speared Emily with another
glance meant to fill her with guilt. And damn if it didn’t
succeed. “We told him,” her friend admitted without a hint of
remorse in her tone. Emily gripped her hands into fists in her lap. Her nails
bit into her palms. “And just how did you two figure out my
plan, eh?” Anastasia laughed as she and Meredith took positions on the
nearest settee. “As if we would tell you!” Meredith nodded. “Yes. The more details we provide, the
more you’ll use them to your advantage the next time you
decide to sneak out of the house into the night.” Emily’s eyes narrowed. This all seemed very rehearsed.
Clearly, the three of them had known of her plans for
escape for some time and had readied themselves for the
showdown once she made her move. It was infuriating! Six
months ago, she wouldn’t have been caught by anyone. Six months ago, everything was different. She shook away those thoughts, along with the overwhelming
swell of anxiety that accompanied them. They couldn’t sense
her fear or she would be worse off than she already was. “Very well, let me see if I can deduce it. It was the bed
sheets that gave me away, wasn’t it?” Ana laughed and Emily knew she’d struck onto her failure.
For weeks, she had been playing a cat and mouse game with
the maids. Clearly, someone had talked about the missing
sheets and word had gotten back to her sister spies. Before
Ana’s recent marriage, she had lived with Emily for several
years. No doubt the maids would report any strange behavior
to her friend if asked. And instead of confronting Emily herself, as Ana would have
done in the past, her friend had gone to Meredith and
Charlie. To protect her. Protection was the last thing Emily wanted. Or needed. She
was smothered by their mothering and worrying. And their
doubts only made her own fears that much louder in her
head. Charlie pulled out his pipe and pressed it between his
lips. “Does it really matter how we uncovered your plan
to ‘escape’ this house?” Emily shrugged. Aside from the utter humiliation of being
discovered, it probably didn’t. What mattered was what was
going to come of this situation. “So what is to be my punishment?” she asked, leaning back
in her chair as she grasped the tumbler of sherry from the
table beside her and swirled the drink gently. “The
gallows? The rack? Will I be transported to Australia?”
Charlie smiled at her dry questions, but Emily didn’t allow
him to interrupt. “Or will you condemn me to the worst fate
of all? Keep me locked in this house, unable to do my
duties. Will you continue to keep me from taking
assignments?” At that, Charlie’s smile fell, Meredith winced and
Anastasia let out a low groan. The muscles in Emily’s
shoulders bunched with tension. She hated having this
argument as much as they all did. “No one is trying to hurt you, dearest,” Ana said, rising
to her feet and pacing around the room. Emily watched her restless movements. The waves of worry
and fear came off of her friend with every step. Ana had
always been protective of Emily, but it had gotten worse
since Emily was shot and since her marriage. Ana had been
off with her husband, Lucas Tyler, who was a spy, too. He
was her partner now. Just as Meredith’s husband, Tristan,
was a spy. Both her best friends had new lives. And Emily had been left behind. She surged to her feet at that painful thought. “You aren’t
trying to hurt me, but you are. Damn it, I’m a spy! I was
born to do this job, even if I didn’t know it until you
approached me all those years ago, Charlie.” He looked at her, a small smile tilting his lips, but she
could see from his expression that he was only humoring
her. “How long must I be relegated to this house and kept from
the field?” She had a powerful urge to throw her tumbler against the
wall, just to get their attention. But they would probably
take such an outburst as further evidence of her
instability. “You weren’t injured that long ago,” Charlie said
softly. “I worry about putting you back into the field so
soon when I’m not certain that you’ve recovered fully.” Emily paced away with a snort of disgust. She had been shot
during a case over six months ago. Yes, the wounds had been
painful… and were sometimes still painful, though she
refused to admit that, even when her friends saw the
evidence. But there were deeper reasons for sequestering her from the
field. She had overheard Charlie talking to Ana one night.
He’d told her friend that he feared Emily had been damaged
beyond mere physical injury. That she wasn’t the same girl
she had been before that bullet ripped through her body. Emily flinched at the memory, because she knew the comment
was true. Some nights she woke screaming. Sometimes she
found herself flashing to the terrifying moment of impact.
And that was why she wanted to return to the field so
desperately. She had to prove to herself, as well as to the
others, that she could still do her duty. It was all she had left. She couldn’t lose it. She turned back to him, blinking away the tears that
suddenly, frustratingly, filled her eyes. “Charlie,” she whispered, clenching her fingers in and out
of tight fists as she fought to manage her
emotions. “Please. Being a spy is what Meredith loves. It
is what Ana became when circumstances forced it. But a spy
is what I am. It is my soul and I shall go mad without it.
I need to work again. I’m begging you.” Charlie looked at her for a long, heavy moment, then his
gaze flitted to the other two women. Tears streamed down
Ana’s cheeks and Meredith was quiet, her head dipped and
face lined with worry. He sighed. “You are determined to do this.” She nodded, too thrilled to keep from revealing her
eagerness. This was the first time Charlie hadn’t refused
her outright. “I am.” He shook his head slowly. “I do have a case I planned to
give to Meredith, but the War Department recently asked
Tristan to do some work in the North Country and she will
be accompanying him in a few weeks. The case I had in mind
may require more time than that.” Emily nearly went to her knees with relief. “Yes, I’ll do
it. I’ll do anything. What is the case?” Charlie motioned to the chair she had vacated and she sat
down on the edge, leaning forward with anticipation
tightening her chest. There was also potent fear, but she
ignored that. She could mask it. She had to. “Are you familiar with Lord Westfield?” he asked. “Grant Ashbury? Yes.” She nodded as she thought of the man
in question. She’d met him a few times in passing, though
they had never talked for more than a brief, polite moment. “We’ve intercepted some very threatening communications
regarding him.” Charlie frowned. “We need an agent to
follow him, watch out for him, perhaps even intervene if
he’s attacked.” Her eyes went wide. “Grant Ashbury needs protection?” she
repeated in disbelief. It wasn’t the idea that the man was being threatened that
she doubted. Westfield was both powerful and well-known. No
doubt the man had enemies. But it was the idea that he
needed a guard that didn’t ring true. For one thing, he was enormous. At well over six feet in
height, Westfield generally towered over most crowds. He
was muscular, too. Anyone with eyes could see that he was
no ninnified dandy who padded his clothing. “I concede it sounds ridiculous, given his physical and
mental condition,” Charlie said. “But it is true. The
problem is that Westfield isn’t aware he’s being
threatened. He’s not on the lookout for an attack, so
despite his strength and intelligence, he might not be able
to prevent injury to himself or those around him.” She cocked her head. “Why not just inform him of the
danger? Allow him to protect himself?” Meredith was the one who answered. “I did a good amount of
research on the man when I was first assigned the case.
Apparently, Westfield loves the thrill of danger. He takes
risks like they are a game to him. We fear if we share this
information, he might take it as a challenge.” Emily nodded. She could understand Westfield’s feelings
completely. She, herself, loved danger... or she had before
she was attacked. She had courted it every day, taking the
most dangerous and physically challenging cases their group
was offered. Only she had been trained to handle the consequences and
Westfield had not. In a flash, he could find himself
overwhelmed by what had once been a lark to him. “Who is threatening him and why?” Ana was the one who shrugged now. “That’s the other part of
our problem. We just don’t know. That will be something
you’ll have to determine.” Charlie met her gaze squarely. “What do you think, Emily?
Is this a case you would be interested in pursuing?” She hesitated. These kinds of investigations, ones that
didn’t involve protection of King and Country, normally
didn’t appeal to her. She didn’t want to play nursemaid to
an undoubtedly spoiled rake who liked to put himself in
harm’s way as a diversion. But if she refused the
assignment, she might not have another chance to re-enter
the field for months. Doing this, protecting this man and
uncovering the source of the threats against him, could
prove to Charlie and Lady M that she was ready for real
work again. If nothing else, it was a way to occupy her spinning mind. She nodded. “Of course I’ll take the case.” Charlie got to his feet with a smile. “Very good. Tomorrow
night Westfield’s mother is holding a ball. I shall arrange
for you to be invited. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with
Meredith and Ana to go over the facts of the case and ready
yourself. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to
contact me for further details.” Charlie nodded to them all and headed for the door, but
before he could leave, Emily said, “Charlie?” He turned back and she met his eyes. They were filled with
kindness, concern for her and the caring of a father. Her
heart ached seeing those things. Certainly her real family
had never shown her such tender emotions. That was why the
Society was so important to her. Why she could not lose it.
She crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around
him. “Thank you,” she whispered as she hugged him. When she pulled back, he smiled at her, surprised by the
gesture and clearly moved by it, as well. Then he shook off
the reaction. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, his voice a little gruffer
than usual. As he shut the door behind him, Emily faced her two best
friends. For the first time in months, she was about to
start on a new case. And she had never been so thrilled and so terrified all at
once…
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