If any man is worthy to be called the DUKE OF SIN, it has
to be none other than the very wealthy and handsome Duke
of Montgomery, Valentine Napier. Not only does he have a
reputation for being decadent and wicked, he also enjoys
the amusement of baiting and blackmailing people as much
as for the money and favours he gains.
So why would a housekeeper of impeccable credentials want
to work there? The lovely and intelligent Mrs. Bridget
Crumb has her reasons and they are very personal. Caught
in the act of trying to find some incriminating letters,
the Duke, so assured of having the upper hand, plays and
baits with Mrs. Crumb in his own version of cat and mouse
game to give up her secrets. But, will this very loyal
and determined housekeeper of Hermes House find what she
is looking for? Who will win this dangerous game and who
will move the cheese?
Cleverly crafted,
DUKE OF SIN is the tenth historical romance in Elizabeth
Hoyt's latest Maiden Lane series. Whether read as a
continuation of this wonderful series or as a standalone
novel, DUKE OF SIN is a delightful and unlikely romantic
tale between two very strong and complex characters each
determined to have their own way.
Hoyt is a very engaging writer with a bit of a tongue in
cheek style that I fully appreciate when reading her
books. Personally, I found the DUKE OF SIN to be an
amusing and intriguing romance; but Valentine is a little
too much of an antihero for me. Despite that, I love how
Hoyt develops the plot, realistically describes the
scenes in the time period and just keeps me turning the
pages late into the night as I had to find out what
happens next.
Set in London, England in the fall of 1741, Hoyt
instantly brings DUKE OF SIN to life with a very amusing
bedroom scene that is not quite what one would expect.
From that point on, Hoyt never fails in delivering rapier
sharp word duelling between the very corrupt and self-
centered Duke and his warmhearted housekeeper. As
Bridget learns more about Valentine's early life, she
begins to understand him. But will that help with the
unscrupulous Duke who is even more depraved than his own
dark reputation? To find out. get your copy of DUKE OF
SIN and see what happens in this fascinating addition to
the Maiden Lane series!
A MAN OF SIN
Devastatingly handsome. Vain. Unscrupulous. Valentine
Napier, the Duke of Montgomery, is the man London
whispers
about in boudoirs and back alleys. A notorious rake and
blackmailer, Montgomery has returned from exile, intent
on
seeking revenge on those who have wronged him. But what
he
finds in his own bedroom may lay waste to all his plans.
A WOMAN OF HONOR
Born a bastard, housekeeper Bridget Crumb is clever,
bold,
and fiercely loyal. When her aristocratic mother becomes
the
target of extortion, Bridget joins the Duke of
Montgomery's
household to search for the incriminating evidence-and
uncovers something far more dangerous.
A SECRET THAT THREATENS TO DESTROY THEM BOTH
Astonished by the deceptively prim-and surprisingly
witty-domestic spy in his chambers, Montgomery is
intrigued.
And try as she might, Bridget can't resist the slyly
charming duke. Now as the two begin their treacherous
game
of cat and mouse, they soon realize that they both have
secrets-and neither may be as nefarious-or as innocent-as
they appear . . .
Excerpt
Val threw down his knife and fork with a clatter.
“Explain it to me, this thing, love. Why would a
perfectly intelligent girl want to marry a man so beneath
her? She could take him as a lover if she wanted—I
certainly wouldn’t care. Why marry the fellow?”
Mrs. Crumb carefully placed her fork and knife upon her
plate and folded her hands in her lap. She turned to face
him. “Love is the best of all human emotion. It separates
us from the beasts and brings us closer to God and to
heaven. There is no greater gift than love between a man
and a woman.”
He looked at her a moment, studying her earnest
expression, and then grinned. “You’ve never loved a man,
have you?”
She pursed her lips, looking not a little irritated.
“No.”
He took up his knife and fork again, feeling more
cheerful. “A woman?”
“Pardon, Your Grace?”
He waved his knife, a bit of the beef skewered on the
end. “Have you ever loved a woman?”
She pursed her lips and for a moment he thought they’d
have another round of tedious prevarication. Then she
sighed—audibly this time. “I was fond of my mother but I
doubt that is what you mean. I’ve never loved another
woman romantically.”
He smiled and ate the bite of beef. She came from the
country. Yet she was rather more sophisticated than he’d
first thought her.
“Then…” She stared at him very seriously, almost shyly.
“You’ve never loved another?”
“Good God, no.”
“Not even your intended fiancée?”
He threw back his head and laughed at the very thought.
“No. Oh, no. I think that one must have some essential
part to love.”
She knit her black brows again, quite severely, and the
resemblance to some stern saint was very strong. “What
part?”
He shrugged, twirling his fork in the air as he thought.
“I don’t know? A belief in goodness and God? Or maybe
godliness? Perhaps innocence?” He smiled and looked at
her. “In any case, whatever that essential thing is, I
don’t have it in me. I never had it.”
Her brows were level. Her dark eyes intent on him. He
might be the only man in the world to her right now. Oh,
heady, erotic thought. “Never? Not even when you were a
child?”
He shook his head slowly, aware of the soul-deep
blackness that had seeped into his skin, been driven
through his muscles, and embedded in his very bones. “Not
even in the womb.”
He rarely told the truth—why bother? It was so dull—but
when he did, most mistook it for jest.
She did not.
She looked at him soberly, and despite her martyr’s eyes,
she seemed to make no judgment of him, which, if nothing
else, was refreshing.
He leaned a little forward and took her chin, her skin
soft and warm under his fingers. Alive. Human. Womanly.
Her dark eyes widened.
“Now, you, Mrs. Crumb, you aren’t like me at all. You
have that part, whatever it is. You can love, which
raises the question: Why haven’t you?”
She made a movement, like a mare trying to shake a
bridle, but he held her, squeezing her face tightly.
Perhaps he even left bruises.
He enjoyed that thought, imprinting his fingertips on her
face for all to see.
“Why, my gentle housekeeper?”
Her nostrils flared and she stilled, glaring at him. “I
like my job. I like doing as I please. Falling in love
with a man would inconvenience me, Your Grace.”
He caught his breath in admiration. “How very practical
of you, Mrs. Crumb.”
He drew her forward, making her half rise, his gaze fixed
on that wet, reddened mouth and her angry dark eyes, his
cock beating, bold and insistent, against the placket of
his breeches. Perhaps he’d mark her further. Perhaps he’d
see to what depths a saint could fall.