To Wed a Wild Lord (The Hellions of Halstead Hall)

To Wed a Wild Lord (The Hellions of Halstead Hall)

With her signature “sense of humor and delightfully delicious sensuality” ( Romantic Times Book Reviews ), New York Times bestselling author Sabrina Jeffries continues the sizzling Hellions of Halstead Hall series following the dark, dangerous, and dashing Lord Gabriel Sharpe. Daredevil Lord Gabriel Sharpe knows he must marry in order to inherit his grandmother’s inheritance. But he does not expect his chance at marriage would appear in the feisty form of Virginia Waverly. Ever since her brother died racing Lord Gabriel, Virginia has yearned to get her revenge by beating him at his own game. But when she challenges him to a race, Gabriel counters with a marriage proposal. After all, he knows Virginia is in dire financial straits—so why not marry her and solve both of their problems? Virginia insists she’s appalled by his proposal, but her response to his scorching kisses says otherwise. And when the two of them begin to unravel the truth behind her brother’s death, Gabriel takes the greatest gamble of all, offering the courageous beauty something more precious than any inheritance—true love. “Marvelous characterization, lovely conversation, and drama perfectly leavened with humor makes this a grand romantic adventure.” -- Starred review, Publishers Weekly Sabrina Jeffries is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of several Regency-set historical romance series, including the Royal Brotherhood, the School for Heiresses, the Hellions of Halstead Hall, the Duke’s Men, and the Sinful Suitors. When she’s not writing in a coffee-fueled haze, she’s traveling with her husband, caring for her adult autistic son, or indulging in one of her passions: jigsaw puzzles, chocolate, music, and costume parties. With more than nine million books in print in twenty languages, the North Carolina author never regrets tossing aside a budding career in academics for the sheer joy of writing fun fiction and hopes that one day a book of hers will end up saving the world. She always dreams big. Sabrina Jeffries to Wed a Wild Lord Chapter One Eastcote, August 1825 Virginia Waverly could hardly contain her excitement as the carriage hurtled toward Marsbury House. A ball! She was going to a ball at last. She would finally get to use those waltz steps her second cousin, Pierce Waverly, the Earl of Devonmont, had taught her. For a moment, she let her mind wander through a lovely fantasy of being danced about the room by a handsome cavalry officer. Or perhaps by their host himself, the Duke of Lyons! Wouldn’t that be grand? She knew what people said about his father, whom they called “the Mad Duke,” but she never paid attention to such gossip. She did wish she had a more fashionable gown—like the one of pink gros de Naples she’d seen in The Ladies Magazine. But fashionable gowns were expensive, which is why she had to make do with her old tartan silk one, bought when Scottish garb was all the rage. How she wished she’d picked something less . . . distinctive to make over. Everybody would take one look at her and know how poor she was. “I can see that you’re worried,” Pierce said. Virginia stared at him, surprised by his insight. “Only a little. I tried to make this gown more fashionable by adding a net overlay, but the sleeves are still short, so now it just looks like an outdated gown with strange sleeves.” “No, I meant—” “Surely people won’t fault me too much for that.” She thrust out her chin. “Though I don’t care if they do. I’m the only woman of twenty I know who’s never been to a ball. Even the farmer’s daughter next door went to one in Bath, and she’s only eighteen!” “What I was talking about—” “So I’m not going to let my gown or my inexperience on the dance floor keep me from enjoying myself,” she said stoutly. “I shall eat caviar and drink champagne, and for one night pretend that I’m rich. And I shall finally dance with a man .” Pierce looked affronted. “Now see here, I’m a man.” “Well, of course, but you’re my cousin. It’s not the same.” “Besides,” he said, “I wasn’t talking about your gown. I meant, aren’t you worried about running into Lord Gabriel Sharpe?” She blinked. “Why would he be there? He wasn’t at the race today.” A few years ago, the Duke of Lyons had started an annual race—the Marsbury Stakes—run on a course on his property. This year her grandfather, Pierce’s greatuncle, General Isaac Waverly, had entered a Thoroughbred stallion from their stud farm. Lamentably, Ghost Rider had lost the race and the Marsbury Cup. That’s why Pierce was accompanying her to the race ball tonight, instead of her grandfather—Ghost Rider’s poor performance had keenly disappointed Poppy. It had disappointed her, too, but not enough to keep her from attending the ball. “Sharpe is Lyons’s close friend,” Pierce said. “In fact, he was at the race in Turnham Green with Roger.” Her stomach sank. “That can’t be! The only people there were Lord Gabriel and some fellow named