To Seduce an Angel

Table of Contents

 

 

“In addition to a fast-paced, exciting plot, Moore infuses the story with snappy banter and a large dollop of speculation and lore about the real Helen of Troy, and she skillfully whets readers' appetites for the final tale.”

—
Booklist

 

“This installment brilliantly delivers a complete, satisfying romance while skillfully tantalizing readers with hints of what's to come.”

—
Library Journal

 

“A well-written book with an interesting hero and an unusual heroine.”

—
The Romance Dish

 

“It's a somewhat breathless—but very enjoyable—ride.”

—
San Francisco Book Review

 

“There is lots of humor and page-turning action for existing and new fans of Kate Moore.”

—
Fresh Fiction

 

“Fast-paced, witty, and highly satisfying. I enjoyed every last word . . . Kate Moore really delivers with
To Save the Devil
.”

—
Romance Junkies

 

“I enjoyed reading this story and look forward to reading more of Ms. Moore's work.”

—
Night Owl Reviews

“
To Tempt a Saint
has everything—intrigue, passion, delicious characters you will fall in love with, and an evocative portrayal of Regency London. Kate Moore is a writer to treasure.”

—Sabrina Jeffries,
New York Times
bestselling author

 

“Moore gives readers a grim glimpse of some of the realities of the period often ignored by the genre. Focusing on the three sons of a legendary London courtesan, Sons of Sin, with its ongoing mystery, promises to be a stunning trilogy.”

—
Library Journal

 

“Powerful emotions, taut mysteries, dark secrets, and deep sensuality draw readers into Moore's unforgettable story. Like Lorraine Heath, Moore draws on the Dickensian aspects of London to enhance a story already filled with realistic characters and pulse-pounding adventure. Moore is a talent to remember.”

—
RT Book Reviews

 

“This is a terrific first Sons of Sin historical romance because of its dark look at the underbelly of London . . . The story line is fast paced and vivid . . . Kate Moore provides a powerful opening act in a three-part drama.”

—
Midwest Book Review

TO TEMPT A SAINT
TO SAVE THE DEVIL
TO SEDUCE AN ANGEL

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

TO SEDUCE AN ANGEL

 

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Kate Moore.

 

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
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ISBN : 978-1-101-54401-3

 

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Now, gods, stand up for bastards.

—
KING LEAR

ENGLAND, 1824

 

EMMA faced the two gentlemen in front of the massive stone fireplace. A painting on the wall above the gray stones depicted a hunting dog pinning a spotted fawn in agony between his forepaws. Emma's sympathies were with the fawn.

They had her pinned, the duke and his nephew. The Duke of Wenlocke, tall, gaunt, and imperious, his face as unyielding as granite, leaned heavily on a black cane. His gnarled hand curved over its golden head like an eagle's talon. His other hand clutched a document.

“This is the girl?” His haughty gaze sent an icy wave of alarm over her. “She doesn't look like a murderess to me.”

Emma willed her knees to remain steady. It took steady knees to run.

“Oh, she's the one, Uncle. Emma Portland.” The other man, the duke's nephew, the Earl of Aubrey, turned from prodding a great log with an iron poker. A shower of sparks vanished up the flue.
If only escape were that easy.

“What's your age, girl?” the duke demanded.

“Twenty, Your Grace.” Her voice came out thin and reedy, unrecognizable to her own ears over the pounding of her heart.

The duke's gaze fixed her to the spot. “Stuck a knife in some fellow's ribs, did you?”

Don't deny it, Emma.
She clenched her fists in the folds of her shawl. Let them think her a murderess. Let them stare as if she were a beast in a menagerie to be baited.

“She's accused of the deed, Uncle, not convicted. I'm sure she'd rather do a favor for a pair of gentlemen than face the law.” Aubrey had a smooth voice and a powerful body, his muscled thighs bulging in skintight riding breeches, his calves sheathed in gleaming black leather. Emma had seen him return his pretty mare to the stables with bloodied sides. She had not imagined that he noticed her.

The duke's stare pierced her. “She'd better. I'm done with the law and courts. Hang all lawyers. I want that
whore's get
out of Daventry Hall and back in the gutter where he belongs.”

He shook the paper in his fist at Emma. “You know what this is, girl? A request for the king's pardon. The duchess wants me to sign it. If I don't, you'll be had up before the justices at the next assizes in Horsham.”

Emma drew a sharp breath and blinked hard against a sudden sting in her eyes. Somehow in spite of all their care, the law had connected her with the spy's death. She knew what that meant. Once more she and Tatty had been betrayed. Her thoughts raced back through the long chain of coins and jewels pressed into willing palms and hasty bargains made with low characters. Their enemies might have bought off anyone on sea or land in the thousand miles between home and England.

“You'll hang, you know.” The duke handed the paper to Aubrey. “Read it to her.”

Aubrey circled her, making a slow deliberate perusal of her person, the privilege of a man with power. A mad desire to pick up her skirts and run passed in an instant. She would not make half the distance to the library door. She would never make the first set of stairs or the grand entrance or the drive, let alone the unfriendly woods below Wenlocke Castle. Escape took care and planning and, above all, luck. No one knew that better than Emma. How many times had she and Tatty and Leo tried and failed in seven years until their jailers had hanged Leo.

Aubrey stopped so close to her she breathed his scent, a heavy male mix of musk and leather with a tang of sweat.

“Not pleasant to contemplate, is it? Much better to hide here at Wenlocke, teaching servants' brats. That's what you do, isn't it, Miss Portland?”

Her downward gaze caught at the flimsy paper in Aubrey's hand. A pardon meant that the duchess, her grandmother's friend, still believed in her. When she and Tatty had reached Her Grace, all their difficulties had melted away. Until now. Now the duchess had gone to London to visit her daughter. Tatty was on her way to a ship at Bristol. There was no one at Wenlocke to help Emma. Still the duchess's wishes must count for something. “The duchess kindly gave me a position.”