"Family Secrets and Childhood Sweethearts!"
Reviewed by Joanne Bozik
Posted March 25, 2013
Romance Historical
Lord Frederick Aveline known by his nickname Derick has
been a spy for England through the war. He has one final
mission before he can leave England behind and start a new
life in the Americas. Even though he holds his father's
title in England, he doesn't have it in his heart to stay.
He arrives at his home in Derbyshire to discover a search
party for a missing maid and Emma Wallingford, a childhood
friend of his, giving orders to his staff on where to
search for the maid. Growing up together in their
childhood, Emma used to follow Derick everywhere he went,
so he gave her the nickname "Pygmy", even though he's
blocked out most of those loving memories, they begin to
slowly return to him as time passes with his stay in
Derbyshire.
As children, Emma had fallen in love with Derick and seeing
him once again brings back all of those true feelings of
love for him. To catch a traitor and to solve murders,
these two must work very close together, and their feelings
for each other become so strong with love and caring for
each other! Emma knows deep in her heart that Derick still
loves her, but she cannot understand that Derick will leave
England once he settles all business. In time, the secrets
of his family are revealed and who he really is, but she
still tries everything in her power to make Derick stay
with her, to show him he is worth more then what he thinks
of himself. Both must beware of the dangers that surround
them and they are greatly surprised when answers start
coming their way.
Emma is very intelligent and can recall most if not all
conversations as well as events she has seen precisely. She
has taken on the position of the magistrate in her
brother's place since he became an invalid. There are some
funny parts, for Emma is quite literal, but she mixes up
common sayings, she is very determined and independent and
never comes off looking like a fool. She
reminds me of the character in the TV show "Bones". As I
read the author's notes, she wrote that the idea of writing
this book came from a tv show, but it wasn't "Bones". You
will find out when you read it, but I do wonder, will
Derick stay with Emma in England or will they both travel
to the Americas? Remember, Emma has a brother who needs
looking after, now you can wonder if Derick will leave her
alone. SWEET DECEPTION is an excellent read with enjoyable,
great characters,
lies, spies, lust, and love!
SUMMARY
In the dark, the greatest lover can become the most
dangerous conspirator... Lord Frederick Aveline, otherwise known as Derick, has
successfully kept up appearances as an English nobleman.
What no one knows is that he's a full–blooded
Frenchman—a double–agent for the British
against the French. But there is something else no knows
about Derick. Deciding to leave behind his days of
espionage, he's arrived home to Derbyshire to finish one
final order of business: to find and expose a dangerous
traitor in the midst. But Aveline castle holds its own share of
secrets—including murder, and an unexpected lure in
Emma Wallingford. Brilliant and feisty, her loyalty lies
with acting as the town's magistrate, and she doesn't
welcome an unanticipated, though appealing, intrusion like
Derick. As the two of them are drawn closer, the sordid
past of Derick's family comes to light, as does the true
nature of his arrival. But when deception, however sweet, is the name of the game
no one can be trusted, and every love—and every
life—is at risk.
ExcerptAn excerpt from Derick's first visit to Wallingford
Manor to begin his investigation...He could always resort to a late–night exploration
if he must.
His imagination flashed a vision of him happening across
Emma, tucked into her bed in nothing but a flimsy night
rail. What would she look like, her features relaxed in
sleep, her hair down and spread across her pillow? Derick's
entire body tightened like a fist as his mind emptied of
all thoughts but her. Her tempting scent would alter with
her skin warmed from sleep, would sweeten tantalizingly
like nectar.
Derick caught himself taking a deep breath. Damnation.
This was precisely why he shouldn't be around Emma. He
hadn't physically seen the woman in hours and yet he was
thoroughly distracted, which made no sense whatsoever. He
didn't even like her. And he was determined to stop letting
her interfere with the role he was here to play.
The door clicked, and Derick's mind snapped back to the
charade at hand. He stepped from behind the chaise to greet
Lord Wallingford, a droll greeting on his lips.
His mouth snapped shut as Emma, not Wallingford, strode
into the room, her skirts swishing behind her. She stopped
abruptly only a scant two feet from him, her eyes traveling
his length.
Her sudden nearness hummed in his veins. Damn, but those
eyes of hers made a man feel she could see right through
him. Derick fought the ridiculous urge to step back from
her frank perusal. He had no reason for concern—he
knew exactly what she would see. He'd planned every detail.
Gold buttons winked in the sun that beamed through the
massive windows, his burgundy and cream striped waistcoat
contrasted nicely with his buff pantaloons, and his black
Hessians fair gleamed. While he'd never go so far as to
polish them with champagne, as Brummel had so famously
espoused, Derick would challenge the man himself to find
any other fault with his presentation.
And that's what it was—the pretentious clothing,
the intricately tied neck cloth, the close–shaven
face, the precisely styled hair—a presentation. A
uniform.
And today, perhaps even a suit of armor.
His mouth twisted wryly. As if he needed protection from
Pygmy. "Why are you here?"
Emma's brows dipped and her mouth wobbled, like she
couldn't decide whether to smile or scowl. "I live here,
Derick."
Imbecile. "Yes, of course." Really, if his superiors
could have seen him around Emma Wallingford, they'd never
have entrusted the country's greatest secrets to him. At
least his incompetent fop act should be especially
believable today. "What I meant to say was that I was
expecting your brother."
Emma crossed her arms. "Yes, Perkins said you wished to
speak with the magistrate. Why?"
The back of Derick's neck tingled. She was on the
defensive. Interesting. Because of his desire to see her
brother? Or because of him? Both were intriguing questions,
but for different reasons.
A slow heat spread through him at the possibility that
he might have the same physical effect on her as she did on
him. He might be able to use that.
No. He was finished with those days, when seduction had
been his stock–in–trade. He shouldn't need to
resort to sensual interrogation. He would be able to get
what he needed from Lord Wallingford—if he could get
past the man's formidably lovely gatekeeper. "I should
think that obvious."
"Indeed." Emma's expression turned to a decided scowl,
and her foot tapped in irritation. "What is not so
obvious," she continued in a clipped tone, "is why you
should feel it necessary to insert yourself into an
investigation that has nothing to do with you."
Oh, yes . . . she was most certainly defensive. Which
meant he was onto something. The question was, what? The
quickest way to get to Wallingford was to stick to his
story. "Because the girl was a member—"
"—of your household." Disapproval dripped from
Emma's voice, landing on him like a particularly annoying
drizzle. She blinked up at him with those owl–like
eyes. "Am I to assume that you intend to stay in Derbyshire
and take up the reins at the castle, then?"
Derick chafed at the censure in her tone. "Good God, no.
This would be the last place I would live. I don't expect
to be here more than a few weeks at most," he answered. "As
if that's any of your concern," he grumbled under his
breath. He swiped a hand across his forehead. She was
wasting his time. Nosy, irritating chit. "Damnation, Pygmy,
you are exactly as you were as a girl."
Derick couldn't keep his eyes from dropping to her
cleavage, so lusciously pushed up by her crossed
arms. "Well, not exactly," he muttered.
Emma's shoulders rose slightly as a tiny gasp escaped
her. "Of course I'm not."
Hell. Had he actually just said that aloud? What had
gotten into him?
"While I still don't care to be called Pygmy," she
reminded him, not so subtly, "I've changed quite
significantly in other ways." She sniffed. "I'm no longer
straw–headed, for one. I speak four additional
languages than I did when you last knew me and I've grown
at least two hands taller."
A huff of laughter escaped him at her attempt to lighten
the moment, but it quickly faded. Emma wasn't smiling.
Instead she heaved a sigh, uncrossed her arms and turned
her body, as if to allow him a clear path to the door. She
even extended a delicate hand in that direction, wafting
her delicious lavender scent near. "Listen, while I
appreciate your assistance last evening, my lord, you
needn't concern yourself any further. I suggest you go
about whatever . . . business a gentleman like yourself
might have in Derbyshire. There's no need for you to dirty
your hands"—her gaze traveled over him again and her
lips flattened—"or your fancy clothes with the
matter."
Derick pressed his fingers against his forehead, closing
his eyes. This was not going according to plan. He'd never
had such trouble bending a female to his will.
Except her. What was it about Emma that threw him off so?
She makes you forget your role.
Yes. Something about her reduced some part of him to the
boy he didn't even remember being—a singular and
disturbing truth he couldn't avoid or fathom. All he knew
was that it was true—and dangerous—which made
it all the more important for him to deal solely with her
brother. It was time to regain command of this
conversation. Derick straightened, crossed his own arms and
leveled his gaze on her.
"I suggest," he drawled, looking down his nose at her in
a way certain to nettle, "that you fetch the magistrate
like a good girl and then go about whatever . . . business
a country miss like you should be doing. No doubt there's a
pillow that needs embroidering somewhere?"
Emma's eyes became slits, and he bit back a satisfied
grin. That should send her off in a huff to get her brother.
Yet she visibly dug in her heels and crossed her arms
again, pushing her delectable décolletage prominently back
into view. A view, of course, that he couldn't help but
avail himself of. He might be acting a part, might have
chosen to remain celibate at least until he put this life
behind him, but he was still male.
Emma clenched her jaw. The nerve of the man! How dare
this . . . this perfectly turned–out popinjay come to
her home and provoke her? The cad didn't even have the
decency to look her in the eye after insulting her so. And
what was he staring at? She followed the path of his eyes,
her chin dipping as she looked down to her . . .
Her cheeks flamed and she hastily dropped her arms. And
yet the heat from her face spread down her neck and through
her chest. She knew better than to think that Derick
actually found her attractive. He certainly never had when
they were younger, no matter how she'd tried to get him to
notice her. But he'd certainly seemed captivated just then,
hadn't he?
She couldn't resist a curious peek at his face. But the
corners of his eyes drooped along with his mouth in an
expression that could only be described as blasé. Her face
burned all the more. Had she really expected otherwise?
Blasted, confusing man. Why wouldn't he just waltz
blithely off on his merry way? "You said you have no
intention of staying in Derbyshire at all. Why won't you
just leave matters be?"
A tremble rolled through her middle as she considered
what was at stake. What an ironic sort of travesty it would
be if Derick, who couldn't be bothered with this village
for an age, came back on a lark and discovered her
brother's secret. He could use it to destroy the life she'd
worked so hard to fashion for herself after her father's
death, and then he would just trot back to London—or
France—or wherever he'd been for the last decade and
a half.
Derick raised his chin a notch and stared at her with
those unnerving green eyes, suddenly anything but
uninterested. "Why do you so badly wish me to?"
The rolling multiplied, magnified. Emma swallowed. That
was a line of questioning she had no intention of following.
She couldn't take the chance that he would puff up with
autocratic male pride and act . . . well, exactly like he
was acting now. If he uncovered the truth about her
brother, a man like him would think it his duty to take the
matter to higher authorities. That was certain to bring her
comfortable life crashing down around her. No. She needed
to get him out of the house, none the wiser, before he had
the opportunity to make trouble.
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