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Zusatztext “Another exquisitely crafted Regency historical that brilliantly blends deliciously clever writing! subtly nuanced characters! and simmering sensuality into a simply sublime romance.”— Booklist Informationen zum Autor Mary Balogh is the New York Times bestselling author of the acclaimed Slightly novels: Slightly Married, Slightly Wicked, Slightly Scandalous, Slightly Tempted, Slightly Sinful, and Slightly Dangerous, as well as the romances No Man’s Mistress, More than a Mistress, and One Night for Love . She is also the author of Simply Magic, Simply Love, and Simply Unforgettable , the first three books in her dazzling quartet of novels set at Miss Martin’s School for Girls. A former teacher herself, she grew up in Wales and now lives in Canada. Klappentext On a splendid August afternoon Susanna Osbourne is introduced to the most handsome man she has ever seen . . . and instantly feels the icy chill of recognition. Peter Edgeworth! Viscount Whitleaf! is utterly charming—and seemingly unaware that they have met before. With his knowing smile and seductive gaze! Peter acts the rake; but he stirs something in Susanna she has never felt before! a yearning that both frightens and dazzles her. Instantly she knows: this brash nobleman poses a threat to her heart . . . and to the secrets she guards so desperately. From the moment they meet! Peter is drawn to Susanna's independence! dazzled by her sharp wit—he simply must have her. But the more he pursues! the more Susanna withdraws . . . until a sensual game of thrust-and-parry culminates in a glorious afternoon of passion. Now more determined than ever to keep her by his side! Peter begins to suspect that a tragic history still haunts Susanna. And as he moves closer to the truth! Peter is certain of one thing: he will defy the mysteries of her past for a future with this exquisite creature—all Susanna must do is trust him with the most precious secret of all. . . . Chapter One "Hmm." Peter Edgeworth, Viscount Whitleaf, frowned at the letter he had been reading as he folded it and set it down beside his breakfast plate. John Raycroft, seated at the opposite end of the table, lowered the morning paper from in front of his face and raised his eyebrows. "Bad news?" Peter sighed audibly. "I have been really looking forward to going home," he said, "despite the fact that I have enjoyed the last couple of weeks here with you and your family and hate to drag myself away when the whole neighborhood has been so hospitable. I have been actually eager to go at last, dash it all. But I made the mistake of letting my mother know my intention, and she has planned a grand welcome home. She has invited a houseful of guests to stay for a few weeks, including a Miss Rose Larchwell, whoever the devil she may be. I have never heard of her. Have you? I tell you, Raycroft, this is no laughing matter." But his protest came too late. John Raycroft was already chuckling as he set down the paper and gave his full attention to his friend. They had the room to themselves, the rest of the family having breakfasted earlier while the two of them were still out riding. "Clearly your mother is eager to marry you off," John said. "It is hardly surprising, Whitleaf, when you are her only son and in the wrong half of your twenties." "I am only twenty-six," Peter protested, frowning again. "And five years older than you were the last time your mother tried something similar–and failed," Raycroft reminded him, still grinning. "Doubtless she thinks it is high time she tried again. But you can always say no–as you did last time." "Hmm," Peter said again, not sharing his friend's amusement. That was an episode in his life that had been far from funny. He had outraged the ton, which collectively believed t...
