Seducing a Princess

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Overview

The popular author of The Princess and Her Pirate and The Princess Masquerade returns with another fun and sexy romance.

William Enton, fifth baron of Landow, has sworn revenge on the villains who caused the death of his wife. Drunk and agitated, he ventures into the lawless part of Sedonia to do just that. But the gentry do not belong here; he is soon wounded and unconscious. When he awakes he finds himself in the thief's den. Then an angel appears, with long blond hair that ...

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Seducing a Princess

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Overview

The popular author of The Princess and Her Pirate and The Princess Masquerade returns with another fun and sexy romance.

William Enton, fifth baron of Landow, has sworn revenge on the villains who caused the death of his wife. Drunk and agitated, he ventures into the lawless part of Sedonia to do just that. But the gentry do not belong here; he is soon wounded and unconscious. When he awakes he finds himself in the thief's den. Then an angel appears, with long blond hair that makes him forget his pain and his mission. But she is the princess of thieves, and he soon realises that nothing is as it seems, including the woman he is slowly coming to love.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780060571566
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 12/28/2004
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 384
  • Product dimensions: 4.18 (w) x 6.75 (h) x 0.96 (d)

Meet the Author

Lois Greiman is the award-winning author of more than twenty novels, including romantic comedy, historical romance, and mystery. She lives in Minnesota with her family and an ever-increasing number of horses.

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Read an Excerpt

Seducing a Princess


By Greiman, Lois

Avon Books

ISBN: 006057156X

Chapter One

In the year of our Lord 1819

William Enton, third baron of Landow, detested weddings. They were tedious shams, filled with foolish hope and soppy sentiment -- like attending hell in top hat and tails.

Taking another sip of champagne punch, he wished quite fervently that he were home alone with a bottle of Scotch, quietly drinking himself into oblivion. But it wasn't a common occurrence for the queen of Sedonia to host a wedding. Nor was it every day that the viscount of Newburn wed. Will had little choice but to attend the festivities; thus he gazed across the immense width of Malkan Palace's grand hall and managed not to glare.

Festooned with dried flowers wrapped in bright ribbon, the arched, stone chamber was crowded with elegant gentry and bustling servants, liquored biscuits, baked custards, and spirits. But it was the laughter that kept Will from the stupor for which he fervently longed. It was the pure, unmitigated joy.

God save him.

"Will." Nicol's voice brought him from his watery cups, where he had hoped to remain until well past dawn. " 'Tis good of you to come."

"Not a'tall." Reaching out with his free hand, William clasped the viscount's palm in his own. They had been friends since boyhood—the impoverished son of a drunken baron and the shabbily elegant heir of Landow—sharing their adolescent wisdom and what dark secrets they dared voice. "I wouldn'thave missed it."

Nicol said nothing, but there was something in his eyes that spoke of perceived lies. He was changed since meeting his young bride—open and honest and obscenely happy.

" 'Tis the event of the season," continued William, addressing the doubt in his old friend's eyes. "The fifth viscount of Newburn wedding a virtual unknown. Think of the scandal." He emptied his cup and wondered dimly why he wasn't far drunker. But perhaps one had to expect some sobriety after long years of excess.

"Hardly unknown," Nicol countered. "Sparrow is the youngest daughter of Lord Elsworth."

"Sparrow," Will said, and motioned to a passing steward. The server was there in a moment, one white-gloved hand clasped behind his back as he refilled the empty cup. " 'Tis an unusual name."

"She's an unusual woman."

"And Lord Elsworth. I don't believe I've heard of him."

Nicol laughed, but he was often laughing these days. Not like the viscount of old—cleverly cutting, carefully controlled—but more like a ridiculously elated bridegroom on his wedding day.

Dammit! They must have stronger libations than this watery punch.

"They're Irish," Nicol said, but he was already skimming the crowd, searching for the woman he had married only hours before, as if he couldn't quite bear to spend a moment without her near. As if the very sight of her gave him new life. Something ached in Will's gut even before Nicol's search ended. Even before his eyes lit and his expression softened. That something twisted like a blade in Will's innards.

"You're a fortunate man," he said, and wondered if it was true. Oh yes, the maid called Sparrow was bright and bonny and obviously in love. But did love bring happiness or pain? He had no way of knowing.

Damn, he was morose, he thought, and drank again, though he knew he shouldn't. He should be attentive and clever and charming. But what the hell difference did it make? Nicol's attention was already firmly gripped by that shimmery enigma he called his bride.

Had Will been a different sort of man, he might have been fascinated by his friend's sudden union. As it was, he merely felt tired, battered, and maybe bitter. He supposed he was bitter. But it made no difference. He would parry, he would feign, he would hide away any unwanted spark of emotion behind bland expressions and witty conversation as any true nobleman would do. "She is quite lovely," he said. "Indeed, in a certain light she looks very much like our young queen." Except for her hair color and the lively lilt of life in Sparrow's eyes, they could have very nearly been one and the same.

"Do you think so?" Nicol asked, and pulling his gaze from his bride, smiled again.

"Aye, she could be Her Majesty's twin." Will paused, drank, wondered idly. "Or her impostor," he suggested, and the viscount laughed as if the world was naught but a jest set forth for his entertainment.

"Ahh well," Nicol said, admitting nothing. "The peerage is wont to interbreed. Who knows how the Elsworths and the Rocheneaus might be related on some distant branch of their family trees?"

"I could find out," said Will dryly, but Nicol only laughed again.

"It would do you no good, old chap."

"Are you saying she is truly of noble blood or that I could never prove she's some penniless waif you convinced to impersonate our princess for a time?"

Nicol's teeth shone wickedly white against his dusky features. "I am saying she is more noble than any woman ever I've met, and she is not penniless. Indeed . . ." He found her again and seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. "She is quite accomplished."

Actual interest percolated in Will's tired soul for a moment. "At what? If I may be so bold?"

Nicol shifted his gaze back to Will's, but his eyes still sparked. "Let me just say that at our first meeting I felt a need to invest in her interests."

"Which were?"

"At the time?" He seemed to be looking back, remembering fondly. "Herself."

"And your investment?"

A smile tugged at the viscount's mouth. "My watch . . . though I was somewhat . . . unconscious when I donated it to her cause."

Feelings sharpened like flint in Will's gut. "She's a thief?" Perhaps his tone was a bit harsher than he'd hoped, for Nicol's expression darkened perceptibly.

"As was Jack," he said, "yet I believe you developed a fondness for him." Continues...


Excerpted from Seducing a Princess by Greiman, Lois Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

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First Chapter

Seducing a Princess

Chapter One

In the year of our Lord 1819

William Enton, third baron of Landow, detested weddings. They were tedious shams, filled with foolish hope and soppy sentiment -- like attending hell in top hat and tails.

Taking another sip of champagne punch, he wished quite fervently that he were home alone with a bottle of Scotch, quietly drinking himself into oblivion. But it wasn't a common occurrence for the queen of Sedonia to host a wedding. Nor was it every day that the viscount of Newburn wed. Will had little choice but to attend the festivities; thus he gazed across the immense width of Malkan Palace's grand hall and managed not to glare.

Festooned with dried flowers wrapped in bright ribbon, the arched, stone chamber was crowded with elegant gentry and bustling servants, liquored biscuits, baked custards, and spirits. But it was the laughter that kept Will from the stupor for which he fervently longed. It was the pure, unmitigated joy.

God save him.

"Will." Nicol's voice brought him from his watery cups, where he had hoped to remain until well past dawn. " 'Tis good of you to come."

"Not a'tall." Reaching out with his free hand, William clasped the viscount's palm in his own. They had been friends since boyhood—the impoverished son of a drunken baron and the shabbily elegant heir of Landow—sharing their adolescent wisdom and what dark secrets they dared voice. "I wouldn't have missed it."

Nicol said nothing, but there was something in his eyes that spoke of perceived lies. He was changed since meeting his young bride—open and honest and obscenely happy.

" 'Tis the event of the season," continued William, addressing the doubt in his old friend's eyes. "The fifth viscount of Newburn wedding a virtual unknown. Think of the scandal." He emptied his cup and wondered dimly why he wasn't far drunker. But perhaps one had to expect some sobriety after long years of excess.

"Hardly unknown," Nicol countered. "Sparrow is the youngest daughter of Lord Elsworth."

"Sparrow," Will said, and motioned to a passing steward. The server was there in a moment, one white-gloved hand clasped behind his back as he refilled the empty cup. " 'Tis an unusual name."

"She's an unusual woman."

"And Lord Elsworth. I don't believe I've heard of him."

Nicol laughed, but he was often laughing these days. Not like the viscount of old—cleverly cutting, carefully controlled—but more like a ridiculously elated bridegroom on his wedding day.

Dammit! They must have stronger libations than this watery punch.

"They're Irish," Nicol said, but he was already skimming the crowd, searching for the woman he had married only hours before, as if he couldn't quite bear to spend a moment without her near. As if the very sight of her gave him new life. Something ached in Will's gut even before Nicol's search ended. Even before his eyes lit and his expression softened. That something twisted like a blade in Will's innards.

"You're a fortunate man," he said, and wondered if it was true. Oh yes, the maid called Sparrow was bright and bonny and obviously in love. But did love bring happiness or pain? He had no way of knowing.

Damn, he was morose, he thought, and drank again, though he knew he shouldn't. He should be attentive and clever and charming. But what the hell difference did it make? Nicol's attention was already firmly gripped by that shimmery enigma he called his bride.

Had Will been a different sort of man, he might have been fascinated by his friend's sudden union. As it was, he merely felt tired, battered, and maybe bitter. He supposed he was bitter. But it made no difference. He would parry, he would feign, he would hide away any unwanted spark of emotion behind bland expressions and witty conversation as any true nobleman would do. "She is quite lovely," he said. "Indeed, in a certain light she looks very much like our young queen." Except for her hair color and the lively lilt of life in Sparrow's eyes, they could have very nearly been one and the same.

"Do you think so?" Nicol asked, and pulling his gaze from his bride, smiled again.

"Aye, she could be Her Majesty's twin." Will paused, drank, wondered idly. "Or her impostor," he suggested, and the viscount laughed as if the world was naught but a jest set forth for his entertainment.

"Ahh well," Nicol said, admitting nothing. "The peerage is wont to interbreed. Who knows how the Elsworths and the Rocheneaus might be related on some distant branch of their family trees?"

"I could find out," said Will dryly, but Nicol only laughed again.

"It would do you no good, old chap."

"Are you saying she is truly of noble blood or that I could never prove she's some penniless waif you convinced to impersonate our princess for a time?"

Nicol's teeth shone wickedly white against his dusky features. "I am saying she is more noble than any woman ever I've met, and she is not penniless. Indeed . . ." He found her again and seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. "She is quite accomplished."

Actual interest percolated in Will's tired soul for a moment. "At what? If I may be so bold?"

Nicol shifted his gaze back to Will's, but his eyes still sparked. "Let me just say that at our first meeting I felt a need to invest in her interests."

"Which were?"

"At the time?" He seemed to be looking back, remembering fondly. "Herself."

"And your investment?"

A smile tugged at the viscount's mouth. "My watch . . . though I was somewhat . . . unconscious when I donated it to her cause."

Feelings sharpened like flint in Will's gut. "She's a thief?" Perhaps his tone was a bit harsher than he'd hoped, for Nicol's expression darkened perceptibly.

"As was Jack," he said, "yet I believe you developed a fondness for him."

Seducing a Princess. Copyright © by Lois Greiman. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 5 of 2 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    fabulous early nineteenth century romantic suspense

    Two years have passed since the highwaymen stopped the carriage bearing his wife and son yet William Enton still spends his time imbibing in drink to forget his loss and alleviate his feelings of guilt for not accompanying them. When highwaymen attacked their carriage, courageous perhaps foolish Elli, told the hostler to stride away from them, but the coach took a turn too fast and toppled. A lantern burned the carriage and its riders. The thieves caught up, but never stole her jewelry. Now in 1819 still wondering why she left and why he stayed silent when she said she was going, William vows vengeance.--- William enters Darkdowne, a den of iniquity run by thieves who attack him. The Princess rescues him and takes William to her leader Poke. William is fascinated by the Princess, the first woman to stir him since the tragedy and in a deep honesty to himself long before the calamity. As they fall in love while working on a robbery, Princess knows she has secrets that once revealed will send Will running back to either polite society or drink.--- The third ¿Princess¿ tale (see the delightful THE PRINCESS AND HER PIRATE and THE PRINCESS MASQUERADE) is a fabulous early nineteenth century romantic suspense that is a fitting climax to a strong trilogy. The story line is action-packed yet character driven as William and the Princess struggle with respective issues that would destroy lesser beings and almost devastate them. It is with each other that they begin to overcome their particular trauma although new ones surface. Lois Greiman is a reigning monarch in the Regency sub-genre.--- Harriet Klausner

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