Call of the Wild Wind: Waterloo Heroes Series, #2

By Sabrina York

Though the world is convinced that Lady Britannia Halsey's fiancé perished on the fields of Waterloo, she is certain he is still alive. And she is determined to find him...before her twenty-fifth birthday.

When the Earl of Wick sees a portrait of her beloved Peter, and claims he looks just like a wounded warrior working on his highland estate, it only seems logical to hie off to Scotland and meet this man.

To Britannia's annoyance, she finds herself traveling with the Annoying Earl of Wick, a man who is far too attractive for her peace of mind. A man determined to seduce her... 

3 Flames  

Sequel to Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina York
• Release date: Oct 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781941497388

Sabrina York

Sabrina York is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous romance. Her titles—Contemporary, Historical and paranormal—range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Her awards include: 2018 Holt Medallion, 2017 RITA Nominee, and 2017 NERFA.She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of 30+ years and a very drooly Rottweiler.Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

Book preview

CALL OF THE WILD WIND

By Sabrina York

Copyright © 2016

ISBN: 978-1-941497-38-8

Editor: Kelli Collins

Proofreading by Scott Moreland

Cover Artist: Dar Albert

Sign up for Sabrina’s Newsletter Today

Get exclusive reads, enter subscriber only contests and be the first to know about coming books!

Call of the Wild Wind

By Sabrina York

Though the world is convinced that Lady Britannia Halsey’s fiancé perished on the fields of Waterloo, she is certain he is still alive. And she is determined to find him...before her twenty-fifth birthday.

When the Earl of Wick sees a portrait of her beloved Peter, and claims he looks just like a wounded warrior working on his highland estate, it only seems logical to hie off to Scotland and meet this man.  

To Britannia’s annoyance, she finds herself traveling with the Annoying Earl of Wick, a man who is far too attractive for her peace of mind. A man determined to seduce her...

––––––––

Never Miss a New Book! Sign up for Sabrina’s Book Alerts Today!

Get exclusive reads, enter subscriber only contests and be the first to know about coming books!

Call of the WIld Wind

By Sabrina York

Chapter One

London, 1817

It was, at times, a great strain being a proper lady.

Britannia Halsey skated a glance around the elegantly laid table—from her father to her brother and his guest, the Honorable and Annoying Earl of Wick—who were engaged in a spirited debate about the most moldy of topics. How they could manage to be enthused was an utter mystery.

Restricted grain imports, new tariffs on wool, cotton and silk...and Corn Laws, for pity’s sake. Corn Laws.

She should be used to it by now, given her father’s fascination for anything that had to do with politics, but no matter how she tried, she simply could not dredge up a whiff of interest. In the topics at least. Her attention kept wandering to Wick’s face, his features. Watching his lips move as he spoke.

She forced her attention back to her mother, hoping to engage her in a conversation about something diverting, but found no relief there. The duchess was staring at her husband, hanging on every word he said.

Britannia sighed.

It was lovely that her parents were, after all these years, so devoted to each other. But it was a little annoying as well. Especially at times like these, when Britannia could have used an ally to turn the conversation.

It was a good thing she and Peter were both two logical and rational souls. Their marriage would not be one of dribbling passion or grand romantic gestures. They were, first and foremost, best friends, and had been since childhood. Their respective parents had been over the moon when they’d become betrothed, uniting two of the most prestigious families in the ton.

With thoughts of her beloved Peter, Britannia’s mood dipped even further. She smoothed out her skirt with meticulous care, frowning at the touch of the bombazine. Black was definitely not her color, but she had agreed to dress in mourning out of respect for her mother’s sensibilities, and for Peter’s mother as well.

But she knew in her heart Peter was not dead, no matter what the Home Office reported. She knew he was alive. Somewhere. She’d spent the better part of the past year searching for some clue to his whereabouts.

To her father’s chagrin, she had interviewed hundreds of veterans of the Battle of Waterloo. Interrogated a number of lords who had served under Wellington. Sought out members of Peter’s brigade.

They all answered her questions politely and, no doubt, offered sanitized versions of their experiences, but without exception, their eyes held that dreadful hint of pity. It was obvious they saw her as a lovelorn lady, desperately clinging to the belief that her betrothed had not perished that drizzly day on the Continent.

They did not know what she did.

They did not know Peter was still alive.

Darling?

Britannia’s head shot up. She forced a smile at her mother. Yes, Mama?

Are you all right?

The smile became wider. More forced. Of course.

Shall we retire to the drawing room while the men enjoy their port?

It was a not-so-subtle hint, but Britannia was more than ready to leave the men to their less-than-scintillating conversations. She stood and nodded to her father—who smiled at her with doting affection—then to her brother, Caesar, who winked. It took some effort to make eye contact with the Honorable and Annoying Earl of Wick, but she managed it. His response was typical of him. Some arrogant-down-his-nose kind of smirk.

Honestly. How did he manage to always appear so pompous? He was a Scotsman, for pity’s sake. Not just any Scotsman. A Highlander. He lived in the savage wilds of the north. What could he possibly have to be arrogant about?

Oh, certainly, he was handsome. One of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, with bold, sharp Nordic features and thick sandy-blond hair. His eyes were like blue ice, cold and beautiful, framed incongruously by dark lashes. His lips, though always arranged in that vexing, dimpled smile, were perfectly formed. His body was more annoying still. Tall, broad, muscular.

And he was a lord. Though a Scottish one.

Perhaps that was the cause of his conceit.

It hardly mattered. After tomorrow, she would never see him again. He had finished his business in London and was returning to the hinterlands.

She ignored the ping in the region of her heart at the thought of never seeing him again. Nay, she thrust it away. Yes, she found him attractive, in a physical sense, but that was the extent of it. He was her brother’s friend, and he was a war hero, so she tolerated him. That was all.

Surely the fact that she found some random Scottish earl even remotely attractive was no reflection on her love for Peter. Surely there was no reason to feel guilty.

Ah, but she did.

She was glad he was leaving tomorrow.

She was.

Tipping her head, she turned and took her mother’s arm, ignoring the earl’s burning gaze as it followed her from the room. She knew he watched her exit. She felt it. It made shivers dance along her spine.

And that was annoying as well.

Peter’s gaze never made her feel as though she had the ague, hot then cold then hot again. Peter never made her feel uncomfortable. Never made her tongue-tied or awkward.

The Honorable and Annoying Earl of Wick, however, did.

It was a good thing he was leaving.

He’s handsome, her mother said as they made their way into the drawing room where Simmons was arranging the tea tray.

Hmm?

The earl. He’s handsome.

I suppose. Britannia settled herself on the couch and accepted a cup of tea from Simmons. She took a sip, but only to avoid her mother’s intent stare. Ever since the erroneous report of Peter’s death, her mother had been gently nudging her toward other men.

Now that her twenty-fifth birthday was on the horizon, the nudging had become less gentle.

Britannia knew why. It was the damned ring.

Her mother was convinced that if Britannia didn’t find her true love by her birthday, she would be alone forever.

What nonsense. For one thing, Britannia was a logical and