Never Cross a Wallflower by Sydney Jane Bailey #revengeofthewallflowers #steamyromance

Never Cross A Wallflower (Revenge of the Wallflowers Book 2)
by Sydney Jane Baily

A Regency romance with wit, passion, . . . and cats!

Take one wallflower and thoroughly disgrace her.
Add an earl who thinks a jest is always in good fun.
Stir together with a spark of romance.
Sprinkle with the bon ton.
Bring to a boil with passion and vengeance.
Simmer through the London Season.
Let cool with a breeze of regret.
Finish with a deliciously happy ending.

Miss Evelyn Blythe is content with needlepoint and rescuing cats, intending no one a whit of harm – until the moment she is publicly humiliated for spite and sport. Game on!

Lord Percy Barrett, the fun-loving Earl of Flintshire, thinks his friend’s sister is delightful exactly as she is. Quiet, yes, but she can take a joke or jest as well as any man. Then a prank goes too far!

Transforming from wallflower to wildflower, Evelyn dazzles the bon ton, all the while exacting her revenge. Becoming increasingly like the ladies she has always scorned, with her heart set on vengeance, will she lose the man of her dreams?

EXCERPT from Never Cross A Wallflower by Sydney Jane Baily

Tormented for spite and sport, Miss Blythe transforms from wallflower to wildflower, dazzling the bon ton with her charm and wit. But when she becomes like the ladies Lord Flintshire disdains, will she lose the man of her dreams? A Regency romance with wit, passion … and cats!

Chapter Six

“May I have the honor of the next dance?”
Percy had watched the dazzling creature in a gleaming gown — black, he thought at first before he realized it was the deepest blue satin — as she detached herself from the nearby crowd, just before someone shrieked.
When the woman turned, he’d been gifted with a delightful view of her pale throat and shoulders. Better yet, the generous swell of her breasts was visible under and over the décolletage of her gown, making him instantly grateful for the current fashion. He particularly appreciated the way dresses fit the females’ upper form and snugged the ladies’ waists. Gone were the gowns that hung shapelessly from under their breasts with little hint of what was below.
Realizing this vision of loveliness was about to disappear into the shadowy section of the room, he had stepped in front of her.
The woman gasped as her flame-blue eyes caught the candlelight and flickered over him. Then she smiled, stealing his breath. That was when he asked her to be his partner.
“Yes,” she said, sounding a little breathless herself.
Taking her arm, Percy led her to where a rambunctious group had claimed a goodly portion of the ballroom.
“There is much mayhem here tonight,” he said, “but when the next piece begins, I’m sure the dancers will settle in.”
“Undoubtedly, you are correct, Lord Flintshire.”
He froze momentarily, then as the music started, he bowed and she curtsied. Taking her left hand in his right one, they turned to face another couple. As Percy had hoped, everyone fell into place, and the unruly guests turned into disciplined dancers performing the steps of a Lancier.
Puzzling out her identity became his task for the duration of the dance. How embarrassing not to know her when she clearly knew him. Moreover, she was a beauty from what he could see. How could he forget being introduced to her?
“Who are you supposed to be?” were her next words.
Percy had momentarily forgotten he was in costume. “Blackbeard, of course, and I’m wounded you did not recognize my character by my infamous red coat.”
“But your lack of a beard.” The mysterious lady pointed out his nearly clean-shaven face, sprouting little more than a shadow. He wished he’d allowed himself a few days growth, but he couldn’t put his valet through such torment.
Mr. Lawrence had nearly fainted when Percy hadn’t refused to let him perform the usual shaving ceremony that morning. And his valet had grumbled again later when dressing him for the masquerade.
“You have unsightly, rough bristles,” Mr. Lawrence told him with a measure of disdain.
“I know,” Percy had responded. “How marvelously piratical!”
At the lady’s words, he shrugged. “My coat, hat, sword, and pistols are correct.”
“But Blackbeard had a … Never mind,” she said, then gave him a stunning smile.
Percy grinned back at her.
“You are teasing me,” she concluded correctly.
“I could be any pirate, I suppose. But certainly, you are the night sky.” Her gorgeous gown was fancifully adorned with glittering stones, which he assumed represented stars. They winked in and out of his vision when she moved.
“You are most clever, my lord. I am Lady Midnight.”
Heat shot to his groin. Her tone more than the words made him imagine her in the pitch of night, sprawled across his best sheets, naked but for the delicate diamond-and-silver necklace she wore.
“Have you met up with my brother yet?”
Her brother? Slowly, realization seeped into his brain. Honeyed blonde hair, eyes of blue hyacinth, flickering with intensity. Impossible! Neither her outgoing manner, nor her upright carriage, the artful color on her lips, nor even the confident way she spoke were familiar.
Lady Midnight was nothing like …
“Miss Blythe, is that you?”
Percy would feel foolish if she wasn’t Evelyn Blythe, but he could scarcely credit his eyes. Was this dazzling creature in shimmering satin with her cleavage on display really his best friend’s sister?

More titles releasing in March

Revenge of the Wallflowers