Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 Read online

  Enticing Eve

  SCANDALOUS SECRETS, BOOK 2

  TRACY GOODWIN

  ISBN-13: 978-1500988272

  ISBN-10: 1500988278

  Copyright © Tracy Goodwin

  Editorial Credit: Mary Metcalfe

  Front Cover Credit: Jeannie Ruesch

  Cover Photography © Jimmy Thomas

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Reviews

  “Tracy Goodwin’s debut novel burst onto the scene, garnering praise from everyone. An author with an enchanting voice, she makes you care about her wonderful characters. A brilliant author, she delivers Romance at its very best. It just doesn’t get any better than Goodwin.” —DEBORAH MACGILLIVRAY, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE SISTERS OF COLFORD HALL SERIES AND THE DRAGONS OF CHALLON SERIES.

  “Tracy Goodwin writes with such a rich, evocative style, you'll feel every emotion in the story and can't help but root for love to conquer all. A must-read author for any historical romance lover." —JEANNIE RUESCH, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE WILLOUGHBY FAMILY SERIES

  “Tracy Goodwin is a promising new voice in historical romance.” —BARBARA DAWSON SMITH, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  “Tracy Goodwin is definitely an author to look out for. She writes a sensual and clever novel that makes for an enjoyable read.” —WW BOOK CLUB BLURBS, PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY, BARBARA VEY BLOG

  Dance with Deception Reviews

  “A stellar debut by gifted author, Tracy Goodwin. Dance with Deception expertly blends romance, danger and lush sensuality in one brilliant novel.” —5 STARS, SINGLE TITLES

  “A brilliant introduction to a promising new author.” —HANNAH HOWELL, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  “Emotionally intense.” —NIGHT OWL ROMANCE

  Dance with Deception Reviews

  “Tracy Goodwin is a fresh new voice in historical romance. In Dance with Deception, Ms. Goodwin has penned an engaging tale of true love overcoming lies and duplicity. Sebastian and Gwen must work through numerous obstacles to reach their well-deserved happy ending. The reader will find herself cheering them along on their journey.” —GAYLE WILSON, TWO-TIME RITA AWARD WINNER

  “Dance with Deception is a lush and endearing romance – as touchingly romantic as anything I have read recently.” —5 CUPS, COFFEE TIME ROMANCE

  “Dance with Deception is a riveting story from beginning to end … the depth of emotions expressed will touch the heart and have readers cheering this couple on. This was a highly satisfying read, and it is a definite page-turner!!!” —FALLEN ANGEL REVIEWS

  “The spicy love story between Gwendolyn and her dashing Duke definitely held my interest … Dance with Deception was an engrossing read and should please anyone looking for an old-fashioned, emotion-filled romance.” —LONG AND SHORT REVIEWS

  “Spectacularly written is this well put together tale of love, hope, and passion. Tracy Goodwin has managed to rekindle a sense of joie de vivre into my being with the colorful characters of Sebastian and Gwen as they find each other and find love in the process. Dance with Deception is truly a keeper.” —5 STARS, EURO REVIEWS

  “A bit dark at times, Goodwin's Regency is filled with emotions, affairs of the heart and a flesh-and-blood hero who isn’t perfect but deserves points for vowing to make the lady of his heart his wife. The heroine also is worthy of kudos.” —4 STARS, ROMANTIC TIMES

  Dedication

  This novel is dedicated to my exquisite son and daughter –

  You, my darlings, are my greatest blessings and seeing the world through your eyes leaves me in awe.

  My kind, compassionate, smart, sweet, and extraordinary Zachary and Emma – you are both perfect and are loved beyond words.

  ~

  This novel is also dedicated to my husband, Greg –

  Thank you for sacrificing so much to see this novel completed and never ceasing to believe in my talent, creativity and the stories of my heart.

  I love you.

  Note to Readers

  While Enticing Eve is written as a Regency Romance, I have incorporated a bit of history that, strictly speaking, falls outside of the period. The first sewing machine was patented in the United States in 1842, while the Anglo-Sikh war occurred in 1845-46. I hope you, my readers, will forgive this literary license in support of making Eve and Colin’s story rich in real history.

  Tracy Goodwin

  Texas

  July 2015

  Chapter 1

  1847 Northamptonshire, England

  He’s home!

  Eve Weston had longed for it, prayed for it and, at long last, Colin MacAlistair returned.

  He is too late.

  The realization, hard and unexpected, winded her like a swift blow to the abdomen. Gasping for air, a guttural moan escaped Eve’s lips. It was the first time in years that she lost control of her emotions in plain sight, and she silently cursed herself for allowing such a formidable response to seep through her intentionally guarded façade.

  “Darling, are you feeling ill?” The Dowager Viscountess of Haversham, Lady Fiona Weston patted her granddaughter’s hand.

  Eve met her grandmother’s gaze, noting the deep lines of concern etched like a delicate web around the woman’s pale gray eyes. Though the angst beating within her chest was reaching a deafening crescendo, Eve forced her usual smile as if all was right with the world. “I am fine, Grandmamma. Please continue with your news.”

  The many years that Eve spent pretending were all the practice she needed on this particular day. Clearly convinced, the Dowager Viscountess returned to her knitting as she imparted more gossip about the unforeseen visitor.

  “Gwen sent word this morning that her eldest brother is residing at Ainsley. It is his solitary return to his family’s estate since before their father’s death. No one expected him, you see.”

  Eve managed a throaty “um-hum” before studying her surroundings in an attempt to steady her suddenly asymmetrical life.

  Dazzling sunlight streamed through the tall bank of windows on the far wall, gleaming against the polished mahogany bookshelves stacked with aged leather-bound volumes preserved by generations of Westons. The familiar sight was comforting, as was the faint tick-tock of the rosewood clock resting on the mantel.

  She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, allowing the familiar scent of wood polish intermingled with the sweet scent of jasmine to calm her taut nerves. Eve’s attention shifted to the vase of assorted fragrant flowers resting on the table in front of her as a ray of sunlight beamed upon the precious blooms, accentuating their bright hues of pinks, yellows, and lilacs.

  The sun had risen, and time proceeded. Everything appeared as it should, with one glaring exception:

  Colin has returned.

  Eve clutched her muslin skirts in a tight grasp as she resisted the urge to laugh, cry, or scream at the injustice of it all.

  He is too late!

  The irony was almost too much to endure. At one point, she would have gladly given anything for Colin’s safe return. In truth, that is precisely what Eve had done – sacrificed almost everything she owned to find him. What an imprudent girl was she, surrendering so much for that man?

  “Darling, are you certain you are well?”

  Eve turned towards her grandmother, who was now leaning forward in her Chippendale wing chair. The beloved woman pressed her cool, knotted knuckles against her granddaughter’s cheek. “I am worried about you, dearest. You appear quite fl
ushed.”

  “It is nothing, Grandmamma,” Eve reassured her, mentally correcting herself.

  It is nothing of which you are aware.

  No one except Colin was aware of what a naïve fool she’d been, and even he wasn’t cognizant of Eve’s state of desperation following his departure. How could he be? The man never even said good-bye. Instead, all she received were two cryptic sentences:

  I must travel abroad immediately. I cannot explain why but promise to return as soon as I can.

  Eve believed him, wholeheartedly convinced that Colin would indeed return to her. With each day that passed, she waited for another missive from him though none ever arrived. It was then that she sold her most precious possessions, hiring a stout investigator with a sour disposition to find Colin.

  The mere thought of the odd little man who reeked of stale cheroots and pungent cologne caused Eve’s skin to prickle as if it were being assailed by a cluster of spiders crawling at a slow pace, making the hairs on her arm stand on end. Perhaps Eve’s reaction stemmed less from the man and more from his raspy tenor as he imparted the news that Eve remained unprepared to receive.

  The evidence suggests that Mister MacAlistair’s disappearance was deliberate on his part. I doubt we will ever find him, Miss Weston. No, I dare say, Colin MacAlistair does not wish to be found.

  Odd what one remembers, is it not? Storm clouds several shades of coal swirled in the ominous sky just outside the window panes on that unseasonably cold Thursday. Rather fitting, Eve supposed at the time since frigid, relentless truth battered her like a churning ocean current as she struggled to remain above the surface. Despite her heart’s valiant effort to hold out hope, Eve’s rational mind refused to yield until it forced her to face the bleak reality that Colin was indeed gone.

  On that somber day, life as she knew it ceased to exist.

  A Thursday.

  How odd is it that he is set to make his grand return on the same day of the week?

  Eve swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut. Colin wasn’t the first to stop loving her. Nor was he the first to abandon her, yet it was his desertion that carved the deepest chasm in her heart … because she loved him, because she believed in him and believed in his love for her.

  Taking her grandmother’s hand in her own, Eve rubbed it with her thumb in a gentle circular motion, meeting the elderly woman’s concerned gaze. “I’m distracted Grandmamma; you mustn’t worry about me.”

  “My darling girl, I have no choice but to be protective of you.” Her grandmother’s gentle eyes now sparkled with adoration and bluish-green specks as she added, “You mean the world to me.”

  “And you are my world.” Eve wrapped her grandmother in a tight hug, the kind woman’s comforting embrace infusing her with resolve. “May I take the carriage for a brief excursion?” Eve asked, as twining tendrils of anxiety encircled her heart, seizing it until she thought it would burst.

  Am I truly about to confront Colin?

  “Yes, of course, my dear. I shall have Norris retrieve my cloak so I may join you.”

  “Please allow me time to myself,” Eve swallowed hard against the lump of guilt that lodged in her throat from deceiving her grandmother.

  It wasn’t the first time Eve had misled the kind woman by omission. Hadn’t she done so ever since she first met Colin? From her first encounter with him to their secret courtship, betrothal, and his ultimate disappearance – Eve kept it all from her grandmother. It was her one act of rebellion, though to be honest, Grandmamma was traveling abroad and by the time she returned, Colin had already departed England. Regardless, what was one more omission added to a long list of transgressions?

  As for the matter of impropriety, the Dowager Viscountess was never one to stand on formalities. It mattered not if society’s edict was that young ladies be chaperoned at all times. When Eve asked for time to herself, the Viscountess invariably granted her request.

  Her faith in me is misplaced, Eve’s conscience chastised.

  Just as predicted, her grandmother showed no sign of surprise at Eve’s entreaty. “Of course you may take the carriage, darling, however, you must return by three as we have been invited to the duke’s estate to dine with his brother-in-law, and we mustn’t be late.”

  Eve nodded in acknowledgment before striding out of the salon and into the main hall. The frantic rhythm of her heels tapping against the ivory marble remained in step with her rising pulse, now battering her veins like a rushing river current in anticipation of her impending confrontation.

  Having often contemplated Colin’s return, Eve assumed that she would be flooded with relief to learn that he was safe. For years she would have been.

  Not now.

  Not any longer.

  With each step, anger and resentment replaced whatever relief she once would have felt. Racing up the plush burgundy-carpeted staircase, Eve entered her suite and tugged with force at the pull for her maid.

  So much had changed since Colin’s disappearance, Eve considered, as she paced the length of her bedchamber. Though she was once considered amongst the top tiers of polite society, Eve now faced her reflection in the mirror, noting her faded gown and frayed sleeves. As had become her daily ritual, Eve wore her shabbiest gowns before calls were expected because she needed to save her best gowns for public display. Though she may be disgraced, she refused to let the ton see just how low she had sunk.

  Nor would Eve allow Colin MacAlistair to witness her shabby state of ensemble.

  Crossing the room, she flung her wardrobe doors open, scanning the array of colorful fabrics hanging before her. Each design was unique, reminding Eve just how strong the woman who created them was.

  “You are no longer that needy girl Colin deserted,” she declared aloud. “You are independent.”

  A grin tugged at the corner of her lips. Only a handful of family and close friends knew that Eve designed and sewed all of her own garments. Yes, she possessed a talent that very few were aware of though many members of the ton had unwittingly worn her creations at one function or another without ever being aware of it.

  Such was Eve’s business, made successful with assistance from the Duchess of Davenport, Gwendolyn Montgomery, and her sister-in-law Lady Victoria. Victoria was especially skilled at selling Eve’s designs, having turned the elaborate ruse into a game – one that she played to perfection.

  It never ceased to amaze Eve what falsehoods the ton would accept simply because a noble with wealth and a title told them it was so. Nor did it surprise her how much they would pay for what they were led to believe to be fashionable by other nobles.

  The scheme never should have been successful but it was, and by retaining her anonymity, Eve protected her pride.

  She would do the same with Colin – protect her dignity at all costs.

  By the time Eve’s maid, Eloise, entered the room, her mistress had decided upon a dusky-pink satin concoction accentuated with embroidered roses in a darker pink in addition to leaves and vines in an emerald-colored thread. A ruched front panel the same shade as the leaves accentuated Eve’s green eyes – a detail that inspired her to choose this particular design.

  Possessing very few pieces of jewelry and accessories, Eve instructed Eloise to pin the sides of her wavy blonde hair and compensate for the lack of a suitable hair clip by accentuating her hair with a pale pink rosebud that sat in a vase atop her dressing table. Eloise was quick to follow her mistress’s instructions as Eve toyed with one of the modest pearl earrings at her earlobe. The memory of how much she sacrificed as payment to that damned investigator gnawed at her, adding a pink tinge to Eve’s once pale cheeks.

  How dare Colin return now!

  Eve’s life proceeded through a thick fog for far too long, but the haze lifted at long last, freeing her from the past. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Eve’s life was more than the vast emptiness that had encompassed her.

  Damn the man for returning now.

  Rising to her f
eet, Eve grabbed a pink reticule studded with several faux pearls then thanked Eloise as she retrieved her gloves from the young woman. It wasn’t until she reached the foyer that Eve realized her hands were shaking. Allowing herself one brief moment to compose herself, she leaned against the cool wall for support.

  Why had Colin reappeared now, when her mind had finally ceased demanding answers to the questions that plagued her? Why did he leave? Where did he go? Did Colin ever regret forsaking her? Had he lied when he promised to return? Were his declarations of love also false? On and on, like specters in a dark abyss, the litany of never-ending questions had taunted her.

  Dear God, why did he return now, when her future lay before her with someone else, someone who is the antithesis of Colin? Kind, honorable, and steadfast—

  Eve’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of that very man. Oh, dear God, why didn’t she tell him about her relationship with Colin?

  It was a rhetorical question for she knew the answer all too well—

  Eve was ashamed of her gullibility. Add to that her certainty that Colin would never return and she remained resolute that her logic outweighed any other possibilities.

  So much for your intuition …