A Wallflower’s Midsummer Night’s Caper by Alina K. Field #revengeofthewallflowers

A Wallflower’s Midsummer Night’s Caper by Alina K. Field

A Midsummer Night’s masquerade at her family’s country home presents the Honorable Nancy Lovelace with the perfect opportunity for revenge against the man who ruined her first London season—a man she’s known since childhood, a man she’d once thought she loved.
Simon Crayding’s newly inherited properties are in disarray, and, thanks to his bad behavior, he’s no longer known to society as Captain Crayding but as the Swilling Duke. When an old school chum invites him for a Midsummer Night’s party, he jumps at the chance to lick his wounds among friends… as well as apologize to his friend’s sister, Nancy, because apparently, he’d done something to hurt her, he just didn’t remember what.
It soon becomes clear that Nancy will not easily forgive. Never one to resist a challenge—or a beautiful woman—Simon vows to find out why. As the night unfolds and passions rise, will Simon be well and truly punished, or will Nancy be caught in her own game?

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Excerpt

Nancy lifted her skirts and tiptoed along the dark passage, willing herself to proceed in a stately manner, with her hem and her hair wreath minding their places.
She had been doing so well, so very, very well, quelling the nervousness twitching through her… Until that first step from the carriage when she’d knocked the poor footman’s wig askew.
She took a long breath and assumed the ramrod posture that was her defense against the busk in her stays—as well as all the other worries unsettling her.
The dancing would start soon, and she would so love to dance the first set.
There’d be no more tripping. No more ripped clothing. No more embarrassing awkwardness.
If only she and Mama were not virtually alone in this crowd of strangers.
Not that the ball guests were all strangers to her mother. Though Mama had been absent from London these last two years since Papa’s death, she’d kept up her correspondence with friends and acquaintances.
Mama would find someone to lead her daughter out. Someone young, Nancy hoped, but not too fashionable. Not eager to wed, because she wasn’t at all ready to spend hours drinking tea or being driven in the park. She could drink tea and go for drives at home, and there were far too many interesting museums and theaters in London to waste time on mere courting. Her friend from school, Sally Simpkins, was in London as well, though Mama had advised restraint about socializing with the daughter of a Drury Lane actress, never mind that the woman was considered respectable.
It had seemed a trifle unfair. Sally was as much a lady as any of the ton, and she’d know exactly how to act with the crowd gathered here, no matter how high the title.
Oh, for a familiar dance partner. Her brother, George, wouldn’t mind if she stepped on his toes; her brother, Fitz, would laugh if she made a wrong turn. The same was true for Rupert and Selwyn.
Or… what about Simon?
Thoughts of him sent emotions spiraling in her, longing twining with annoyance, and strands of hurt and embarrassment befuddling her, so that when she turned a corner, she stumbled against a large body with a startled squeak.
“Here now. What’s this?”
Powerful hands matched the deep masculine voice and set her back, steadying her. She looked up, astonished, and her heart swelled and threatened to burst. All the mixed emotions evaporated, and joy flooded her. Dark hair spilled over one blue-gray eye and the full lips pursed together in a frown.
He’d come for her. Simon Clayding—Duke of Something now, but he would always be Simon to her—Simon was here.
“It’s you,” she said. “I’m so s-sorry. I’m as clumsy as ever. B-but… you’re here?”
Perhaps he would dance with her. Perhaps she should ask him.
“’Course I’m here.” He blinked, as though trying to focus. “Question is, why are you here looking like a fresh young thing ready for your come-out?”
“S-Simon?”
“Simon?” He muttered a foul profanity she’d heard only on the rarest of occasions spilling from one of her brothers’ mouths. “Demmed Percy told you my Christian name, I suppose, and sent you along. One of his pranks. Well, madam, you’re a pretty thing, and I mean you no offense, but I’m not going to be sidetracked tonight. I’m not interested.”
A wave of misery stilled her tongue and drove the breath from her. She’d loved Simon Clayding since her brother George brought him home from school that first holiday fifteen years ago when she’d been not much more than a baby.
In the dim light of a wall sconce, his gaze darkened and held hers, despite his proclaimed lack of interest.
Perhaps… Simon hadn’t seen her in nine years. He didn’t recognize her. He had her confused with someone else.
Reasoning trickled back into her senses, bringing along the strong scent of brandy.
Of course. He was completely foxed.
She licked her lips, preparing to set him straight, but as she opened her mouth, a spark lit his eyes and turned up the corners of his mouth.
And then he tugged her, pressing his lips to hers, pressing his chest to her… to her…
Breath left her in a whoosh as he angled his mouth over hers, nibbling and then entering her with his tongue, inflaming desire, demanding surrender.
She gripped his broad shoulders but instead of steadying her, their solidness sent heat spinning through her.
Simon was kissing her. Simon. The first man to kiss her. At a public ball. He cared for her. He hadn’t forgotten. He meant to mar…
“There.” He set her back as suddenly as he’d swooped down on her.
A tendril of hair fell over her cheek, the same one that a maid had just pinned.
“That’s all you’ll get from me. Go back and tell Percy we’ve had our tumble, if you will, and demand payment from him. Get you gone before one of the servants sees you and throws you out on your arse.”
He turned her around and smacked her bottom. She staggered against the wall, righted herself, and turned back ready to give him a piece of her mind.
But he’d disappeared.