Home Books News Contact Photos Guestbook


Seducing Sir OliverSEDUCING SIR OLIVER
July 2006
Berkley Sensation
ISBN 0-425-21083-9
A Borders Romance Top Pick

Dear Reader:

In Seducing Sir Oliver, Lord Gabriel Sinclair, seen in several previous books of the Sinclair family saga, at last tracks down his and his sister's birth father.  To his shock, he also discovers they have five half sisters, and one--Juliana--will return with him to London.  This is the first book to chronicle the adventures of the Applegate sisters--and we're not sure London will ever be the same, but--Hope you enjoy!  I had a ball writing this one!

Nicole Byrd

| Reviews | Excerpt |


Reviews

Coming soon!Top of Page

Excerpt

This is actually chapter three, but the first one where the hero appears.

After traveling all day, they spent the first night on the road in a well-appointed inn, where they obtained a change of horses.  Juliana had her own bedchamber, and she found that her half-brother had hired a private parlor as well, where they could sup in quiet luxury. 

Juliana was not accustomed to traveling in such style.  Of course, she was not used to traveling, she thought wryly.  Except for visiting her married sister, who lived only a few miles away at the squire’s manse, or riding her donkey into the village, she had had little chance to enjoy pleasure jaunts. 

With the help of one of the chambermaids, she changed into a dinner dress and met her brother in the private parlor at the appointed hour.  The table was already laden with an amazing array of food, and so many dishes for just the two of them–she thought of their usual dinner fare at home and realized that perhaps, indeed, her family was poorer, beneath their veneer of gentility, than she had realized.

The inn servant held her chair for her and then offered to serve them.  Presently her half-brother–no, no, she must not think of him as such--she would slip up and say it aloud.  Her newly-found cousin made a polite inquiry about her ride in the hired carriage, but he seemed somewhat abstracted.  Was he regretting his agreement to this visit?

And what on earth would his wife say?

Juliana was already regretting her quick decision.  If Madeleine had only come instead. . .   And as for her unfaithful suitor–well, Juliana didn’t want to see him, it was true, but this visit might be even more uncomfortable than meeting Mr. Masham and his new bride.  Several times a week.  For months to come. . . 

She found that her spirits had sunk even lower, and her body had gone stiff with tension.  Which was worse, to be forced to go through a sham of offering welcome and hospitality to the newlyweds while all the neighbors watched or to be away from home and the people she loved, and, most likely, be made to feel unwanted?

She found that the bite of chicken she was trying to chew seemed to grow larger. She  swallowed, but it was hard to get the food down.  Almost choking, she took a sip of her wine, then glanced toward her host.

Brows knitted, he gazed at the far end of the room, regarding the bureau there as if he wished to run it through.  Oh, dear.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she blurted.

He looked at her in surprise.  “Is the dinner not to your liking?   Shall I order something else?”

“No, no, the meal is delicious and more than ample,” she assured him.  The fact that she was so nervous she could barely swallow was something she didn’t care to share.  “I mean, me, this visit.  I feel very–very awkward, and you must resent having me foisted upon you.  I know my father meant well, but--”

The expression on Lord Gabriel’s face was hard to read.  “If I have given you cause to believe that you are unwelcome, I apologize, Miss Applegate.”

Now she felt ungenerous as well as uncomfortable.  Juliana wished she had more practice in difficult social situations.  At home, where she knew all the neighbors, where she seldom encountered new people. . .  she drew a deep breath.  She must not allow her new relation to think she was such a craven.  Perhaps it was as well to say aloud what they must both, surely, be thinking.

“I feel that you must–must blame my father,” she said.    “For--”

She faltered as she saw that Lord Gabriel’s deep blue eyes, in their hue and shape so like her father’s and her own, could turn icy cold. 

“For having an affair with a married woman?” he finished for her.  “For fathering children upon another man’s wife, a somewhat inconvenient fact for all concerned?”

Smarting for this disparagement of her parent, their parent,  Juliana raised her chin.   “I have seen little of Society,” she acknowledged, her tone stiff.  “But I believe affairs among the Ton, married or not, or perhaps especially when safely married, are quite common.”

“Which hardly makes them right!” he shot back.

“Of course not!”  She hoped she was not blushing.  “I am not condoning such behavior.  But I just want you to believe–to consider the possibility, at the least–that my father is not a man, even in his prime, who was in the habit of  trifling with ladies.”

He gazed at her, too polite to utter his doubts, but she could read them in his too bland expression.  It was unnerving to see how much his expression resembled–for a moment–her older sister’s, when Madeline was feeling most censorious.

“He fell in love with a lady in a difficult situation,” she argued.  “I believe his motives were altruistic.  And I do believe that he loved her most sincerely.  Before they married, he admitted as much to my mother.”

The hardness in his eyes softened, and he gazed at her with increased interest.  “That must have been difficult for her.” 

Juliana looked away for a moment.  “My mother loved him very much,” she said and could think of nothing to add.

Lord Gabriel drew a deep breath.  “Perhaps I am too quick to confer judgment,” he acknowledged, although his voice was still cool.   “I simply think of my mother, unhappy in her marriage, and how vulnerable she was. . .”

“She was also--” Juliana pointed out, “in need of a friend.”

For perhaps the first time, she saw him smile briefly.  “True.”

She could think of nothing more to add, and anyhow, she was afraid to press her luck.  Silence hung in the air between them.

At last Lord Gabriel said, “My mother is dead.  Your father is an invalid.  Whatever happened between them, they alone knew the full truth of it.  We’ll never know exactly how and why it occurred, and perhaps we should not try.  What is clear is that we have a connection between us, and I feel we should respect it.”

She nodded, and some of the strain that had stopped her throat eased.  “It is kind of you to say so.”

“No, it is only proper,” he said, and then smiled again.  “As incongruous as that word might seem.”

She gave a nervous laugh. 

“So, if I can do you some small service by showing you a few weeks in London, it is a small enough thing,” he told her.

If he took this view, she could hardly demand to be taken north again, which Juliana realized she had been on the verge of doing.  She nodded.  “I fear I have not much practice in Society.  I shall try not to disgrace you, Cousin!”

He grinned at her emphasis on the last word.  “I’m sure you will do splendidly.”

So they finished the meal in more or less companionable fellowship, and Juliana managed a little sleep in the strange room and unfamiliar bed.  The next day, riding once more alone in the chaise, she gazed out the window and watched the countryside as they approached London.

But when they rolled into the West End and she saw the elegance of her half-brother–no, her cousin’s--residence, all her nervousness returned.  An icy knot seemed to have formed inside her, and when the carriage pulled into a particularly fine square and up to a large and well appointed house, she shivered, even though the day was mild.

Lord Gabriel had dismounted, and the groom helped her down.  She paused and looked up at the door of the house as it opened.  A very beautiful fair-haired woman came out, her clothes alarmingly fashionable–Juliana immediately felt even dowdier by comparison, in the made-over gray traveling costume which had once been her mother’s and the somewhat scraggly shawl that the twins had knitted for her last Christmas–even though, strangely, the lady’s silk gown was covered by an apron.

“This is my wife, Lady Gabriel Sinclair,” Lord Gabriel said.  “My dear, Miss Applegate, my–ah–cousin.”

“I am so happy to meet you, my dear,” this vision said.  “And I so regret that you cannot stay.”

Juliana felt as if she had been slapped.  Oh, dear lord, this was her worst fear come true.  This ravishing Society beauty did not wish a visit from a relation who was so improperly connected.  The trip South should have been delayed until she had been consulted. 

Lord Gabriel gazed at his wife in surprise.  Juliana could not speak--she felt her cheeks flush with mortification.

“We have several people in the house who are ill with measles,” Lady Gabriel explained.  “Have you had the disease, my dear Miss Applegate?”

Swallowing her chagrin, Juliana tried to think.  “Not that I can recall.”

“There!  I was afraid that might be the case.  So, you see, I must not allow you to be infected.”

Lord Gabriel frowned.  “What a contretemps.  Perhaps Gemma--”

His wife shook her head and gave Juliana a quick smile.  “It’s already been arranged.  Our dear friend, Margery, countess of Sealey, has invited Miss Applegate to stay at her house.”

His face cleared.  “Ah, good.  The countess is a very gracious lady, Cousin.  You could not be in better hands.”

Juliana wished she could feel as sure.  A countess?  She was to stay with a countess?  And one, moreover, with whom she had not the slightest family tie, illicit or otherwise.  Oh, good heavens, she had thought her case bad enough already, but this was much, much worse. 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t presume to accept such a kind offer–that is–it would be an imposition, surely--” she stammered.

Lady Gabriel patted her hand.  “It will be quite all right, I promise you.  I would come with you, but the youngest kitchenmaid has just dropped a bowl of soup in the middle of the hallway, plus I must check if Circe is drawing under the bedcovers again.”

Not sure she had heard this aright, Juliana stared at her almost hostess, but Lord Gabriel had given his wife a quick kiss and was ready to hand Juliana back into the carriage.

Feeling strongly out of  place–it was bad enough at any time to have a house guest foisted upon one, but in the middle of a family illness, it was more than a nuisance–Juliana had no choice but to step up into the carriage and wave goodbye.

“I will come to see you very soon,” Lady Gabriel called, but before Juliana could answer, the lady had turned to hurry back inside.

Surely Lord Gabriel and his family were wishing her to the devil!  But they were all of them trapped by the constraints of good manners.  Lord Gabriel had agreed to bring her to London, and he could not abandon her.  Juliana had agreed, despite her better judgment, to come, and now she could not–as she very much wanted to do–demand to be returned to the North Country.

Oh, hell, what a mess.

Soon the carriage once more came to a stop, and Juliana was not surprised to find this house even larger and grander than the last one. 

By this time she would also not have been surprised to find that the countess, too, had some excuse to put her off, but a footman, sublime in purple livery and powdered wig, opened the door  for them and offered no resistance to their entry.  Lord Gabriel escorted her inside, where an elderly butler, just as well outfitted and even more intimidating, waited.

They were taken up a flight of wide stairs to a drawing room roughly the size of the ground floor of Juliana’s family home.  Gazing up at the plastered, gilded ceiling high above them which was decorated with classical scenes, and scanning the elegant silk-covered chairs and settees placed  all about, Juliana felt an irrational desire to cast her bonnet aside and run for her life.  Who was she to be visiting such a grand lady?

Introductions were made, although she was too flustered to listen closely.  She tried to pull herself together and execute a smooth curtsy. 

Lady Sealey was as impressive as her surroundings.  Her silvery hair was perfectly arranged, her lightly powdered face still handsome despite her years, and her lavender silk gown would have made the twins swoon with envy over the skill of the countess’s dressmaker.

Her blue eyes were somewhat faded by time, but they twinkled with wit and intelligence.  “Welcome to London, my dear Miss Applewood.  Is this your first visit to town?”

“Yes, it is.” Juliana tried to keep her voice steady.  “It is most kind of you to offer me hospitality.”

“Ah, poor Lady Gabriel.  I fear she has her plate very full just now, but her loss is my gain.  It will be my pleasure to have you.”

Juliana, who feared her knees were shaking and hoped that her heavy traveling skirt hid this fact, could think of no good reason why, but it would have been impolite to say so.

Her hostess turned to Lord Gabriel.  “I know you are anxious to be home, dear boy, so I will not keep you.  Tell Psyche to let me know, when she has the time, how everyone is doing.”

He bowed.  “I will.  Thank you again, Lady Sealey.”

Suddenly, her intimidating half-brother looked like an old and dear friend.  When he took his leave of Juliana, she had to fight to keep from clutching his hand to hold him back.  She must have looked forlorn because he smiled at her and said, his voice low, “I will return soon to see how you are.”

Then he was gone.  Juliana swallowed.

“Would you like to see your room, my dear?” the countess suggested.  “You may wish to wash away the dust of your journey.  When you feel refreshed, come back down and we will have a cup of tea and get acquainted.”

“Yes, thank you,” Juliana agreed.  So she was handed back to a footman, who took her up another set of stairs and then passed her on to a maidservant in a neat uniform, who showed her to a bedchamber so large and luxurious that at first Juliana felt she must have been taken to the wrong room.

But before she could embarrass herself by uttering such a gauche statement, she saw that her bag had been brought up, and another maidservant was hanging up her gowns in a clothespress.  Oh, hell’s fire, in this setting the dresses looked even shabbier than she’d realized.  How could she possibly go about in any Society, even if anyone actually invited her anywhere, when she was going to look like the proverbial country cousin next to all these elegant ladies?

“Can I get you anything, Miss?” the maid was asking.

“A brain,” Juliana muttered.  “I must have lost mine.”

“Pardon, Miss?”

“Nothing, thank you.  You may go.”

“Just call if you need anything, Miss,” the servant told her. 

In a few moments, the other maid finished her task–Juliana didn’t have all that many clothes to unpack!–and also took her leave. 

Juliana washed her hands and face and tried to push her dark hair back into place, then walked to the window and gazed out.  She could see a bit of the street from the corner of her window and hear the sound of carriages passing, wagons rattling, horses trotting, voices of many different accents calling to each other–what a bustle!

It was exciting to be in London, she had to admit it.  And perhaps she would be able to see some of the sights of the capital before she returned home; after all, it was unlikely she would ever get such a chance again.  But as for meeting any marriageable men–in London as in Yorkshire, she felt sure that men wanted wives with property or status or a nice sum invested in the Funds, and she had none of those.  Juliana was too sensible to believe in fairy tales.  Sighing a little, she picked up her shawl and draped it around her shoulders, then left the room before her nerve failed her. 

She walked along the hallway and turned a corner, then paused in confusion.  This did not look familiar.  Just as she’d decided she must have gone the wrong way, she heard the sound of a door opening, and a muffled curse.

It was a man’s voice--one of the servants, perhaps?

She looked back.  No, she saw a very tall young man with very broad shoulders, but he was dressed as a gentleman,.  And he was–what on earth was he doing?

He seemed to be wrestling with a small blanket, which bulged and jumped in odd ways as he carried it awkwardly in his arms.  Wondering if it–or he–was possessed, Juliana couldn’t keep from staring.

Perhaps she should have retreated to her own chamber, but the sight was too curious.  Just as she was about to ask him if anything was wrong, a small form emerged from the blanket and darted off down the hall.

Was it a cat or a ferret, perhaps?   It moved so quickly that she couldn’t get a good look, her startled glance making out little more than a brown blur of fast-moving fur and skinny limbs.  Her arms filled with a stack of linens, a maid servant came out of a door further down the hallway.  She turned toward them.

The young man exclaimed in concern.

Whatever it was, he did not wish it to get away, Juliana deduced.  Or perhaps, he did not even want it seen.

Moving with the same agility with which she habitually made her way across rocky hillsides or boggy moors, Juliana pounced.  Throwing her shawl over the small animal, she scooped it up and held it to her chest, hoping that the creature–whatever it was–did not bite.

The shawl wiggled, but she held it firmly until the maid, giving them a curious glance, passed by.

The stranger hurried up to her.

“Thank you!  That was very quick thinking,” he told her.  “Well done, indeed.”

He stood close to her, and now Juliana could see how large he really was. 

She was tall for a woman, but this man was a young Goliath.  She tilted her head back to gaze at his well-made face with its firm chin, strong nose, and handsome eyes of such a clear luminous gray that they seemed to reflect his deepest thoughts.   His tousled hair was brown but streaked with lighter strands, and he could have passed for a handsome young Viking if he had been decked out in armor and leather harness, instead of a well-tailored coat and trousers and a slightly disarranged neckcloth.

Something seemed to melt inside her, and Juliana felt a curious shiver travel all the way down her spine.  She realized she was staring and tried to pull herself together.   “Not–not at all,” she stuttered.  “I take it that this–this is yours?”

She looked down to discover just what it was that she held and almost dropped it all when a small brown hand, eerily human-looking, pushed its way out of the knitted bundle.

This was no cat!  What unearthly creature had she captured?

Before she could even gasp, a small head, brown and hairy, followed.  It was not the elf she had–illogically--half expected.  This was certainly an animal, although the eyes that turned to gaze up at Juliana displayed a disconcerting intelligence inside their round depths.

“Is this a–a monkey?” she demanded.

Top of Page
 

HOME  ||  BOOKS  ||  BEHIND NICOLE BYRD  ||  NEWS 
PHOTOS  ||  DROP ME A LINE || GUESTBOOK

This website designed and maintained by NovelTalk.
All Rights Reserved.  ©2005 Cheryl Zach
For problems, contact the webmaster.