Lunging away, she somehow managed to twirl like a ballerina—

Only to crash into the girl behind her. The room erupted in laughter. In her discomposure, she’d gone the wrong way. The girl shouted a vulgarity a lady ought not to even know and gave Daphne a shove in the opposite direction—

Just in time for her to see the most attractive gentleman plant his fist in the face of the man who had affronted her.

Looking up, he glared at her rather ferociously, something that ought to frighten her but instead inspired everything inside her to tingling. Yes, he had to be a gentleman because he looked so very fine with his cravat so perfectly tied and his dark blond hair so neatly cut, somewhere between short and longish, the ideal frame for his broad cheekbones and astonishing gray eyes.

“Thank you,” she shouted, though she knew he couldn’t hear her for the din of the room.

The gleam in his gray eyes intensified. She’d never had anyone look at her like that, so blatantly, without the filter of decorum, as if she was not a girl or even a lady, but a woman.

“You’re welcome.” Or at least that’s what his mouth appeared to say. She couldn’t hear him either.

A large crash sounded from the direction of the entrance. A woman screamed. The music trailed off. An enormous man in a black suit and top hat appeared on the threshold. Patrons scrambled away from him, pushing and shoving.

Bracing his legs wide, he bellowed, “Under his majesty’s authority, this bawdy house is hereby closed for the crimes of lewdness and common nuisance.” Lifting both hands high, he displayed what appeared to be a constable’s blazon and piece of paper that could only be a warrant. “You are all under arrest.”

A swarm of men rushed in behind him, wielding batons.

Daphne stood paralyzed for a long moment. She? Daphne Bevington, under arrest?

Like everyone else, she dashed for the door.

THE DISH

Where Authors Give You the Inside Scoop

From the desk of Jennifer Delamere

Dear Reader,

One reason I love writing historical fiction is that I find fascinating facts during my research that I can use to add spice to my novels.

For Tom Poole’s story in A LADY MOST LOVELY, I was particularly inspired by an intriguing tidbit I found while researching shipwrecks off the southern coast of Australia. In describing the wreck of a steamer called Champion in the 1850s, the article included this one line: “A racehorse aboard Champion broke loose, swam seven miles to the shore, and raced again in the Western District.” Isn’t that amazing!? Not only that the horse could make it to land, but that it remained healthy enough to continue racing.

Although I was unable to find out any more details about the racehorse, as a writer this little piece of information was really all I needed. I knew it would be a wonderful way to introduce the animal that would come to mean so much to Tom Poole. Tom and the stallion are the only survivors of a terrible shipwreck that left them washed up on the coast near Melbourne, Australia, in early 1851. Tom was aboard that ship in the first place because he was chasing after the man who had murdered his best friend. By the time he meets Margaret Vaughn in A LADY MOST LOVELY, Tom has been involved in two other real-life events as well: a massive wildfire near Melbourne, and the gold rush that would ultimately make him a wealthy man.

As you may have guessed by now, Tom Poole is a man of action. This aspect of his nature certainly leads him into some interesting adventures! However, when he arrives in London and meets the beguiling but elusive Miss Margaret Vaughn, he’s going to discover that affairs of the heart require an entirely different set of skills, but no less determination.

From the desk of Erin Kern