The Incomparables: 6 Heroes of Waterloo
and the 6 Ladies They Adore
This limited edition box set includes 6 scorching romances that
commemorate the 200th anniversary of the June 18, 1815 Battle of Waterloo.
From the Duchess of Richmond’s ball in Brussels to the Battle of
Waterloo and beyond, join these six unforgettable heroes as they journey back
from the physical and emotional trials of war and discover the passion that
thrills the body can also heal the heart.
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Read more about this steamy collection!
Emma wants only an interlude with the man she’s adored for years. But
Drayton Worth has spent five years riddled with guilt for hurting her—and he’s
determined to have more than a few nights in her bed.
Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with war wounds that are
physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt and tormented by
his tarnished honor. When he meets Fia Lennox, a beautiful and brave Highland
lass in dire need of his protection, he sees in her his chance for
redemption…or utter damnation. Because despite his valiant attempts to resist
her, he cannot.
Love After Waterloo by Suzi Love
When Lady Melton and her son join Captain
Belling and the last wounded soldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she
expects clashes with army deserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love
with the antagonistic captain will change her life.
Paul “Lucky” Sherstone daren’t even let his
wife too close because of his headaches and the living nightmares he can’t
dispel. Hetty hardly knows the man who comes back from war, but one thing she
does know—she still wants him.
A man who is determined to fulfill his duty at the expense of his own
happiness, a woman who wants only one taste of true passion, and a case of
mistaken identity. Can Captain Edward Hathaway and Grace Kent overcome the
guilt that continues to haunt them both and find true love?
Captain Roarke Wooldridge is about to find out that sometimes love does
heal all wounds.But when his need for revenge collides with desires he never
believed he would feel again, will he be able to put aside the scars of
Waterloo to embrace his future?
READ MORE!
Dreaming of Waterloo by Lynne Connolly
They called him “Lucky,” but not all injuries are physical
ones. Plagued by headaches and living nightmares, Paul, Lord Sherstone returns
to London to a wife he doesn’t know and an estate he has to manage. He daren’t
let her close, even though he is falling in love with her all over again.
Married and abandoned in a month, Hetty learned to manage a
large estate and fend off would-be lovers, but a threat emerges much closer to
home and from an unexpected place. In need of help she turns to Paul but since his return he has only
shut her out. Refusing to give up on the man she fell in love with five
years ago, Hetty has to persuade her husband to let her into his bed—and his
heart.
Read an Excerpt below!
About Lynne Connolly
Lynne
grew up in a haunted house in Leicester, England, and got used to telling the
ghosts to shut up! She has lived a variety of lives, moving from the rock music
world to the business world, and then to writing.
She
has won awards and written best-selling books, although the writing is always
her greatest reward. As Lynne Connolly she writes historical romance, and as
L.M. Connolly spicy contemporary and paranormal romance.
Reviews are like gold to
authors, so I'd really appreciate a short review.
And/ or a rating for this book.
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Where to find Lynne
Connolly:-
Also
by Lynne Connolly
The Emperors of London:
Rogue
in Red Velvet
Temptation
Has Green Eyes
Danger
Wears White
Reckless
in Pink
Even the Gods Fall In Love:
Lightning
Unbound
Mad
For Love
Arrows
of Desire
Forged
by Love
Richard and Rose
Yorkshire
Devonshire
Venice
Harley
Street
Hareton
Hall
Eyton
Maiden
Lane
Lisbon
Secrets
Seductive
Secrets
Alluring
Secrets
Tantalizing
Secrets
The Triple Countess
Last
Chance, My Love
A
Chance To Dream
Met
By Chance
A
Betting Chance
Counterfeit
Countess
Uncovering
Vanessa
Laura
Excerpt:
The crowd parted.
They were not dancing, having left off in favor of
supper, so Paul walked straight across the room to face Hetty. His gait was
loose and easy, but he ate up the ground with no regard to the careful, mincing
steps of the fashionable gentleman. His Hussar uniform, one of the most
flamboyant in the army, looked as good as any ever did on his broad shoulders,
and tall, muscular form. Gold was so heavily laced across the front that the red
cloth beneath could hardly be seen. The pelisse that hung from one shoulder,
red lined with blue, was equally fine.
Despite the magnificence, the man outshone the
uniform, his carefully brushed dark hair and square jaw more than adequate to
the task. The grim purpose delineated in every spare line of his form
embellished the uniform rather than the other way about.
Hetty drew her hand away from Lewis’s arm, and
stood clear of him. Paul bowed to her. “My lady.”
"My lord.”
Thus, a year of silence was broken.
She held out her gloved hand, proud that it did
not waver, even though her pulses throbbed and her throat had tightened so she
could scarcely breathe.
He took it and bowed over it in the approved
manner. Then he glanced at his cousin. “Lewis.”
“Welcome home, Sherstone,” Le
wis
said, his voice slightly higher than usual.
“Thank you.” Straightening, his eyes met hers
again, and once more he transfixed her.
Her mind flashed back to the first time they had
met. Like this, in a ballroom, before she knew he was to be her husband.
But of course, this was nothing like that time. He
was a soldier, but not a major, as he was now. He didn’t have that hard
expression in his eyes then, either.
Five years had passed between that day and this,
and a wealth of experience. Not to mention heartbreak, on her side at least.
Because of the woman she was now, not the one she
had been once, Hetty put on her practiced society face of mild interest,
allowing her lips to tilt upwards very slightly. “I had not known you were
coming.”
“My arrival was somewhat confused, my lady. I was
prepared to accompany Wellington to Vienna, but he had other plans. So I
climbed on to one of the many ships transporting the wounded to England
instead.” His lip curled in a self-deprecating sneer. “I was assured I was not
taking the place of someone who needed it more than I did.”
For this was the hero, the talisman of the army.
“I see you are not hurt, sir. Or is some part of you damaged beyond repair?”
The sneer turned to a smile and his dark eyes lit
with amusement. Eyes that dark caught every spark of light that passed by,
reflecting it with an adamantine glitter. Hetty had never been sure if she
imagined the volatile moods that shaded them, or whether it was the light
affecting them. But this was unmistakable. “I am never wounded. I thought you
knew that.”
“Yes.” She wet her lips and watched his gaze
settle there before lifting once more to encompass her face. “You have that
reputation.”
“I do seem to, do I not?” His nickname of ‘Lucky’
had never been bestowed on a worthier candidate. He had been at the heart of
every battle Wellington had sent him into. Men fell around him, but Major Lord
Paul Sherstone remained upright and unscathed. Men strove to join his company,
which had fewer casualties than others. Prints were made of him standing in
bloody battlefields, staring at the carnage going on around him. Handsome and
tall, the picture of a perfect officer, Paul had captivated the popular
imagination.
He was doing the same now. Around them, a hush was
barely broken. People watched him, most of them with awe or smiling. He ignored
them all in favor of his wife and cousin, but Hetty was painfully aware of all
of them. Usually she moved around society as one of many, as part of it, but
not standing out. Just the way she liked it. Suddenly she was the center of
attention. “I—I went to Horse Guards. They wouldn’t tell me where you were.”
He shrugged. “They probably had no idea. I told
them I was selling out. My superior officer should have told the authorities.” He
frowned. “You mean you did not know if I was alive or dead?”
“Exactly.” Good of him to put it so succinctly.
Fire sparked in the depths of his eyes. “That is
not acceptable. It’s been ten days since the battle. I wrote to you. Did you
not receive my letter?”
She shook her head. “But you are here now, my
lord.” His words eased her somewhat. Before, she had imagined that she was of
little importance in his scheme of things, but it appeared he had made efforts
to contact her.
“And you are not one to sit before the fire,
wringing your hands, are you?” A steely tone had entered his voice.
Did he expect as much? Once she might have done
just that, but these days Hetty was more inclined to take her fate into her own
hands. “I will find out more here than at home, waiting for something to
happen.”
He gave a brief, terse nod. “True enough.”
He glanced around. “You were heading for the
supper room? Allow me to escort you.”
After a nod to his cousin, Paul took Lewis’s
place. He offered her his arm and she laid her hand on it. Now she trembled.
Heat rose from his body through the unblemished cloth to her hand. Like this, Paul appeared as nothing more than a dandy, dressed more flamboyantly than
anyone with a dozen fobs to his waistcoat. Underneath, his body was honed and
sharpened to a killing edge.
As they moved away, leaving Lewis behind, chatter
rose up once more.
Paul let out a long breath. “Well that was
difficult.”
She felt cold, numb with shock.
“I had no idea you didn’t know I was alive.” He
cast a glance over his shoulder to where Lewis was standing. “I regret you had
to discover it in such a way. I suggest I find you something to drink, and then
we may sit and try to appear unobtrusive.”
There was an edge of wildness to her laughter. “You?
Unobtrusive?”
His mouth tightened in a mirthless grin. “I try. I
should have more success soon.”
He said no more until he had procured wine for
them both. After she refused food, he took her to a seat by the side of the
room. “Let us hope that our reunion deters people from approaching us.”
But that was not to be. First one person then
another offered him their felicitations and expressed their admiration of his
prowess. Paul greeted them all with a smile, reminded them that his wife was
with him, so they had to get to their feet and bow and curtsey.
“This will not do,” Paul said. “I wish to speak to
you privately. We have much to discuss, my lady.”
She wished he wouldn’t call her that. She was Hetty.
Henrietta if he had to, but not “my lady.”
“May I call on you tomorrow?” he asked her.
Startled, all she could do was blink at him. “I
had thought—”
“I arrived far too late last night to disturb you,
so I went to the club.”
“You’re staying at White’s?”
“No, at the Incomparable, farther along St.
James’s Street.”
She frowned. “I don’t recall the name.”
He nodded. “It used to be the Classical. We’ve
revived it. It’s now a club for people who fought at Waterloo.”
If she was not on her best behavior, she might
have whistled. “So fast?”
“We had to move quickly, or the building would
have sold elsewhere.”
“We?”
“We formed a committee. We have yet to meet and
discuss the details of the club, but we felt the need to ensure we remembered
the battle.”
“I see,” she said. She did indeed. Battle was an
essentially masculine affair, and like turkey-cocks, they would want to strut
their achievements. “To relive its glories.”
His lips twisted and he shook his head. “Not in
that way. We need somewhere we feel safe.” Abruptly, he stopped looked away. He
finished his wine before putting it aside on a table next to the sofa they
shared. “We have bedrooms, so I used one last night. I will stay there tonight,
and come to you in the morning.”
“At what time?”
“Does a man need permission to enter his own
house?”
That made Hetty guilty. She was so used to having
the house to herself but of course, that was at an end now. “Of course not. I
merely wanted to ensure everything was ready.”
He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “That
phrase could mean something entirely different in certain quarters.” Leaning
back, he observed her discomfiture.
A flush rose to her cheeks. “Then I apologize.”
She would be up with the dawn tomorrow. She had no desire for him to find her
still abed.
He still disturbed her, still made her
want—things. Their marriage had not been marked with passion, except right at
the beginning. Sometimes she considered those heady days as the only truly
happy ones of her life. That was foolish, of course it was, but in her more
melancholy moments, she remembered them.
She would never get them back. They had gone on
and their union had become something completely different.
“My cousin seemed very thick with you,” he said,
leaning back.
She breathed in relief, as if he’d taken all the
air when he’d moved closer to her. “He’s been of great help with the estate. It
is in good heart.”
He frowned. “But you take the decisions, do you
not?”
“Yes.” She had ensured that. Working with the men
of business, the estate managers, the lawyers and other professional people she
had managed to keep her finger on the pulse of his estate. Not that Paul had
cared much, or so it seemed. He was not the first son of his parents, but had
inherited the earldom when his brother had died unexpectedly shortly after Paul
had joined the army. He could not be reached for some time, and when he finally
returned home, he was an earl. Wellington had demanded his return. The earldom
could wait, Wellington had said, and so it had.
Now it would not. “Your men of business will be
anxious to talk to you,” she said.
“It appears that they talk to Lewis far more than
to me.” He shrugged, his shoulders moving powerfully under the fabric of his
uniform. “I have a new skill to learn.” He got to his feet and held out his
hand.
After only a moment’s hesitation, she took it and
let him help her to her feet. “You look weary,” he said softly. “I won’t tax
you with my presence tonight. Go home and get some sleep.”
“Yes, I believe I shall.” She smiled brightly,
forcing back the shadows.
Perhaps they would do better this time, after all.
This time as friends and colleagues, not passionate lovers. That chapter had
ended a long time ago, and she should not regret it.
And yet she did.
