By Julia Quinn
"*Anne Wynter is probably not who she says she is . . .*
But she's coping with fairly good as a governess to threehighborn younger women. Her task could be a challenge—in a singleweek she reveals herself hiding in a closet jam-packed with tubas, playingan evil queen in a play that would be a tragedy (or mightbe a comedy—no one is sure), and tending to the injuries ofthe oh-so-dashing Earl of Winstead. After years of dodgingunwanted advances, he's the 1st guy who has really temptedher, and it's getting tougher and tougher to remind herself governess has no enterprise flirting with a nobleman.
*Daniel Smythe-Smith should be in mortal possibility . . .*
But that's unlikely to prevent the younger earl from fallingin love. And while he spies a mysterious lady at his family'sannual musicale, he vows to pursue her, no matter if that meansspending his days with a ten-year-old who thinks she's aunicorn. yet Daniel has an enemy, person who has vowed to seehim lifeless. And whilst Anne is thrown into peril,he will cease at not anything to ensuretheir satisfied finishing . . .
Read or Download A Night Like This (Smythe-Smith Quartet, Book 2) PDF
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Extra resources for A Night Like This (Smythe-Smith Quartet, Book 2)
Fool,舡 the man wheezed. 舡 The man舗s answer never came. From behind Huntley, an abbreviated cry shot out, sharp and dreadful. Turning, Huntley saw a flash of metal gleam in the half light of the alley. One of the attackers stepped back from the victim, a long and wicked blade streaked with bright red in his hand. Blood quickly began to soak through the front of the victim舗s waistcoat and run through his fingers as he pressed against the wound in his stomach. 舠Morris isn舗t going anywhere,舡 the knife-wielding man said.
Thank you,舡 he gasped. 舡 He seemed to relax at last, no longer fighting the inevitable. 舠Is there someone else I should tell about you? 舡 舠None. Only family I have. 舡 And with those words, a final spasm passed through Morris, the body舗s last struggle to cling to the knowable world. He arched up, almost flinging himself from Huntley舗s arms as a strangled sound ripped from his throat. Then he fell back, eyes open, and Huntley knew it was done. He looked down at the dead man舗s face. Morris couldn舗t have been more than forty or forty-five, a hale man who, though he wasn舗t a soldier by trade, had kept himself well-conditioned.
That name got her attention, as well as her father舗s. 舡 he demanded. 舡 The captain broke away from looking intently at Thalia as he regarded her father. He suddenly appeared a bit tired, and also sad. 舠Mr. 舡 Thalia gasped, and her father cried out in shock and horror. Tony Morris was one of her father舗s closest friends. Thalia put her hand on her father舗s shoulder and gave him a supportive squeeze as he removed his glasses and covered his eyes. Tony was like a younger brother to her father, and Thalia considered him family.