Sherlock Holmes meets Pride and Prejudice in this bewitching and scintillating romance between an eccentric gypsy detective and a young spinster governess.
Harriet Morgan, a shy, nurturing young woman, watches the finishing school she has seen as he...
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Harriet stood frozen with her hand cupping her ear as it burned with scorching heat. It was highly uncomfortable, so she began fanning it, but that only seemed to add fuel to the fire. Sighing defeatedly, Harriet stopped and was perplexed. She did not know what to think of Nicu Rowe, but one thing was for sure.
He was dangerous.
When she had entered her room, he had looked like a sleek tom cat bathing in the sun that spilled through the window above the desk. That small golden hooped earning gleamed as if it was winking at her.
The man unnerved her greatly with his heavily lashed liquid gold eyes that seemed to see every little thought she hid in the deepest crevices of her soul. His wicked mouth had taunted her and bantered in ways that still made her flush. His words rang in her ears when his slender and towering sinewy male form had leaned in closer to her, carrying that appealing scent of old books and spiced tea leaves.
The sound of Kappi's paws hitting the floor stirred Harriet out of her thoughts. She watched as the furry coon darted out of the room in vigor like he had done something mischievous. With that in mind Harriet swiftly glided toward her bed hoping no animal feces were waiting for her there. Luckily there were none.
She turned back to the desk and sat down to begin finishing her correspondences to the parents. But as she began to write her mind drifted as she glanced over at her three remaining butterflies. Her fingers trailed up to the one perched between her ear and head and fiddled with it. Her eyes lost their focus and her dip pen slipped from her hand as Detective Rowe invaded her thoughts once again.
He was no gentleman.
Particularly with the way he dressed. His shirtsleeves had been rolled up, providing ample showing of his thickly roped forearms with sprinkles of dark hair, and his waistcoat had been unbuttoned as if he were relaxing in his study, not exploring an innocent maiden's room.
Her mind stored every little beastly thing about him, especially the tuffs of black ink that popped out of his open collar that showed off his swarthy throat. She didn't know what was hidden underneath his shirt and waistcoat and she didn't want to know... did she?
Harriet felt heat rise to her whole face and burn relentlessly at where her thoughts lead. Enough of this! She scolded herself, snatching her pen and dipping it in the dark liquid only to ruin the letter with a massive blot.
A soft knock cam and Esma entered with an amused expression. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Harriet smiled and shook her head in protest. "Not at all, I'm just finishing up letters to inform the parents of what has happened."
"I hope the room is to your satisfaction."
In the hours Harriet had gotten to familiarize herself with Marshwood castle and listened to Esma describe its rich history, she had fallen in love with the place. Her room was no exception with its large candlelit chandelier and red velvet wallpaper with diamond stars in a deep yellow. Elegant tapestries hung in separate parts of the room. The bed she was honored to sleep in was large with rich red silky sheets and the bedframe was a luxurious dark wood with engravings of birds on it and draped in deep yellow sheers.
