Katherine Langford is in London ready to make her debut to society when she discovers that the home next door is being rented by the "Murderous Marquess" Hayden Rowling. Always impulsive, Katy decides to sneak over and take a peek at the notorious M...
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Was it possible I had misjudged him so badly?
"Did you get it? Did you get it? Oh, please tell me you got it!" Elizabeth Bly exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement as her best friend came running out the glass-fronted door of Minerva Press's bookshop.
"By Jove, I got it!" Caro Brockway crowed, whipping the thin leather- bound volume out from under her cloak. The girl's breath escaped in white puffs on the frigid air.
Before she could reach Elizabeth, a hulking footman garbed in navy livery stepped into her path. "I'll give you three pounds for that book, miss."
Caro stumbled to a halt, clearly taken aback. "But I only paid half a guinea for it."
"I'll make it five, then." The man stole a desperate look at the long line of carriages parked just behind them.
The elegant carriages and public hacks were lined up all the way to Gracechurch Street. Swaddled in furs and muffs, their occupants were willing to shiver in the cold for hours, all in the hope of obtaining the third volume of London's latest literary sensation, Lord Death's Bride.
"Please, miss, take pity on me," the man begged. "You heard what happened to Lady Dryden's footman, didn't you?"
The girls exchanged a wide-eyed look. All of London had heard what had happened to Lady Dryden's footman. He had dared to return to the countess's carriage empty-handed only to sheepishly confess that he'd let the last available copy of Volume Two of Lord Death's Bride slip through his fingers and into Lady Featherwick's grasping paws. Some said the countess's outraged shriek was heard all the way to Aldgate. She had beaten the poor fellow about the head with her parasol, then stuck her nose in the air and commanded her coachman to drive on without him. The footman had chased the carriage for ten blocks, begging for her forgiveness, before finally succumbing to exhaustion and falling face-first into a pile of fresh horse manure. Rumor had it that he was now seeking employment on the docks.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I can't help you." Clutching the book to her heart, Caro veered around him and backed toward Elizabeth. "I've been waiting in line since dawn and I promised my mother I'd bring the book straight home. She's going to read it to the entire family after supper tonight. They've all been dying to know what happens after the noble duke realizes his new bride has betrayed his trust."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I can't believe what a ninny she's turned out to be." The girl clasped her hands beneath her chin, a dreamy expression softening her features. "Why, I would have realized from the beginning that such a kind, generous, and incredibly handsome man would never hurt any woman, especially his wife."
The footman began to stalk Caro, his countenance taking on a more menacing aspect. He stretched out one white-gloved hand. "Come on, gel. It won't kill you to hand it over. Five pounds must be a fortune to a common chit like you."
