Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount

Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount

3.5 2
by Catherine Hemmerling

London, 1814

Hope Stuckeley has lusted after the handsome and charismatic Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield, for ages - never mind that she's never actually spoken to him. When the two join forces to investigate a London stock market scandal, pretending he is courting her gives her the chance to prove she's more than the bookworm he takes her for


London, 1814

Hope Stuckeley has lusted after the handsome and charismatic Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield, for ages - never mind that she's never actually spoken to him. When the two join forces to investigate a London stock market scandal, pretending he is courting her gives her the chance to prove she's more than the bookworm he takes her for.

After years of service as a soldier and newly titled as a viscount, actual marriage and settling down are the last things on confirmed bachelor Michael's mind. But when their investigation puts the delectable Hope in danger, discovering the truth about the scandal could jeopardize the future he didn't know he wanted.

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Entangled Publishing, LLC
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Lady Lancaster Garden Society Series
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Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount

A Lady Lancaster Garden Society Mystery

By Catherine Hemmerling, Stacy Abrams

Entangled Publishing, LLC

Copyright © 2014 Catherine Hemmerling
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-62266-745-1


Hear all, trust yourself.

~The Duke of Lancaster

Aside from her odd love of all things numerical, Hope Stuckeley led a fairly normal life. She had just turned the grand age of twenty. Grand, because she was not so green and naïve as she had been at eighteen and nineteen and yet she was not so old as to be considered hopelessly on the shelf ... which was a good thing, because although she had received a fair number of proposals in previous seasons, she was holding out for one proposal in particular, and this year, she was determined to make it happen.

She felt confident that this would be the year, because this was her third season out, and thus far, it had been the best one yet.

First of all, this year Hope was a member of the Young Ladies Garden Society, hosted by the estimable Lady Lancaster (as the lady preferred to be called despite being a duchess, dowager or otherwise); and, as an added bonus, the other four members of the Garden Society had become her very best friends. Secondly, she was finally on speaking terms with the secret love of her life, Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield.

Michael — as Hope thought of him, but only to herself — was the best friend of Lord Pembroke, her cousin's fiancé, but it was not through her or, by extension, him that she had met the lord. Lord Lichfield, surprisingly enough, was a friend of Lady Lancaster's. She wasn't exactly sure how the two knew each other, but something made Hope think it was more than as just two members of the aristocracy.

Still, it was thanks to Lady Lancaster that Hope had been officially introduced to the viscount, and she tried to make the most of it whenever she could.

Just the other day, she and her cousin Hannah had run into Michael while out shopping. Hope remembered giggling with Hannah over how cute the man was as he approached. Tall, dark, and eminently charming. Hope sighed in remembrance. And although he spent most of his time chatting with Hannah about William's whereabouts, at one point he'd turned to her and commented on her "fetching" new hat. The sincerity in his eyes nearly made her swoon. And that was how it had been for the last couple of years. Just a stray comment here and there (he seemed strangely struck silent around her most of the time), with her learning about him and his character through his conversations with others. It was frustrating that they couldn't seem to have a full conversation themselves, but still, Hope wouldn't give up those moments with him for anything.

Hope felt sure she would be a nice complement to Michael's rugged good looks. She knew that she was not a raving beauty like her friend Emily, nor could she compare with the extreme loveliness of her aforementioned cousin, Hannah, but she was reasonably attractive with her light brown hair, golden brown eyes, and softly rounded figure. She wasn't as thin as was fashionable, certainly, but frankly, she thought girls who ate like birds just to impress society were a bunch of ninnies.

However, Hope's appetite wasn't anywhere in evidence the morning of Sunday, February 20, 1814. In fact, she was practically ignoring her plate and wearing a rather uncharacteristic frown — that is to say, uncharacteristic for Hope when sitting at the breakfast table scouring the newspaper for news of the Stock Exchange (the frown was worn quite frequently during other less agreeable pursuits).

"Why the frown, sweetheart?" Mr. Stuckeley asked after filling his plate with eggs and sausages from the sideboard and sitting across from his daughter at the table.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing really," Hope replied, looking up to greet her father with a small smile. Seeing him always put a smile on her face. Aside from Lady Lancaster and the girls, her father was her best friend. When her mother had died, Hope was just seven years old, and she and her father had become inseparable. Then, after Mr. Stuckeley had discovered her gift with numbers, the two became even closer; their relationship being built on more than just that of father and daughter, but of a mutual respect.

Two years after the death of her mother, Hope's father re-married, as was expected of a man still considered in his prime. Her stepmother, a quiet, unassuming woman, was nearly fifteen years her father's junior at the time of their marriage. Almost immediately, she became pregnant and she stayed in that condition on a regular basis for pretty much the next five years. Now, she spent most of her days with the children or with her embroidery or watercolors.

It was safe to say, the marriage did not impede much on the relationship Hope had with her father. Her stepmother seemed perfectly happy leaving her husband and Hope to their own devices. It wasn't that she didn't care about Hope, precisely, but she was never given the opportunity to be a mother to her.

In the two years that Hope was the only "lady" of the house, she had taken the role very seriously. Having grown up much too quickly in that time, Hope had felt in no need of a mother when one had suddenly been presented to her, and her indifference to the new Mrs. Stuckeley had set the tone for their relationship from that point forward. One of acknowledged acquaintance, but not much more.

Hope supposed that was why she had gravitated toward Lady Lancaster and the Garden Society. The love and support of strong and wonderful women was exactly what she found she needed now, and being unsure of how to broach the subject with her step-mother after all these years, she had turned to outside sources to heal the hole in her heart she so recently discovered she had.

"Just some strange activity on the market recently," she told her father now.

"Strange, how?" Mr. Stuckeley asked.

"There seems to be a lot of movement in government-based stocks recently," Hope replied. "I suppose it could have something to do with the rumors of Napoleon's death that have been going around for the last few months but still ... something doesn't quite add up."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it overmuch," Mr. Stuckeley said a touch too off-handedly. "Someone is always following one hunch or another. No one of any real intelligence would believe those rumors."

"I suppose not," Hope replied, wrinkling her forehead in doubt. For the most part, the stock market followed a kind of logic that she was able to understand and even forecast, but the last few days had her confused.

Shrugging, she folded the paper and set it beside her. Surely whatever was going on would make itself clear in time.

In fact, the best piece of advice she could give anyone about the stock market — if anyone bothered to ask her — was to be patient. Most investments, if chosen correctly, would pay off sooner or later.

However, aside from her father and Lady Lancaster, very few people paid a lot of heed to her advice. It was generally thought that a woman could not have a head for figures and certainly should not be responsible for handling money, other than a limited household allowance, of course ... and sometimes not even that.

And if Hope found these thoughts and beliefs irksome, she knew well enough that there was not much she could do about it. Truth be told, Hope was not a troublemaker. Even she could admit she was a people pleaser. At home, she may be a little unconventional — with her father's permission, of course — but out in public, Hope lived by the rules of society, however ridiculous they may be.

Of course, being proper, timid, and coy had not gotten her very far in her first nineteen years, she acknowledged wryly, so perhaps it was time to try something new, something different. And nothing was more new and different than the Young Ladies Garden Society.

To outsiders, the Garden Society was a weekly get-together for a handful of privileged young ladies of the ton. It was a very select group of girls, much to the dismay of most society mothers — for gaining the favor of the dowager Duchess of Lancaster was a coup of epic proportions.

Lady Lancaster was widely respected and generally feared among the ton. The widow of the Duke of Lancaster — a gentleman who was rumored to have worked for the war office as a spy — the dowager did not suffer fools lightly and she seemed to have an innate ability to know exactly who the fools were and who they weren't.

To that end, Lady Lancaster had invited a small number of debutantes to join her Garden Society, and these girls were made privy to the private side of the grand lady. And there was much to keep private.

As it turned out, the duke had been a spy for the war office, as had his wife. Together they had solved hundreds of war crimes across several countries. The duke was an enlightened man whose quotes were often heard and even more oft repeated as rules by which to live. Unlike most gentlemen of his time, he recognized the abilities and talents of women — in particular, his wife — and he considered it positively imprudent to discount a perfectly reasonable and often surprising asset in the field.

Hope knew that she would probably never be as forthright and brave as Hannah, but she certainly could learn a thing or two from her. And Emily, who was deeply concerned about others and regularly posed as a maid to deliver food and goods to the underprivileged, had already inspired Hope to use a disguise so that she could loiter around the London Stock Exchange building — otherwise known as the Stock Subscription Room — without drawing undue attention to herself.

Not quite the same altruistic motives as Emily, but handy nonetheless.

Rose Warren and Sarah Jardin were probably Hope's closest friends in the group. With Emily so popular and Hannah feeling the need to be in the middle of, well, everything, Hope spent a lot more time with Rose and Sarah.

In any case, Hope was thrilled to be the last young lady to round out the dowager's little assemblage. There was a never-ending supply of interesting things going on in the group and that suited Hope just fine. Their meetings were always the highlight of Hope's week and she looked forward to them eagerly. There was just something so ... fulfilling ... about having a place to be and something important to do.

This winter, especially, was an exciting time, as currently the Garden Society was embroiled in not one, but two intrigues. Hannah was investigating a smuggling scheme in which her brother David was entangled, and the other case was still somewhat of a mystery. It was involving Rose and the odious Lord Shrewsbury, but that was all anyone knew thus far. However, the Garden Society's weekly meeting was this afternoon and Hope assumed they would hear more about it then.

As Hope finished her breakfast, she wondered if she should mention her concerns about the stock market to Lady Lancaster at the meeting. Shaking her head, Hope decided that she needed to heed her own advice and be patient. There was nothing truly concrete to indicate there was a problem, and her intuition alone was not enough of a reason to begin a full-fledged investigation ... yet.

* * *

Much later that same day, Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield, was on his way back to London after completing some business at one of his estates in the far reaches of England.

It was extremely late and after being on the road from very early in the morning, Michael couldn't wait to find a room in the picturesque town of Dover and get some much needed sleep. Bringing his horse to a halt in front of the Ship Inn, Michael dismounted and walked into the establishment on weary legs, making his way immediately to the front desk.

"Good evening, sir," the clerk at the front desk said. "How may I help you?"

"Do you have a room available?" Michael asked. It was such an advanced hour that it was possible the inn could've been completely full.

"Ah, yes sir," the clerk said, "however, it is not one of our best."

Michael fought hard not to roll his eyes. Although the Lichfield viscountcy was anything but new in the peerage, it was a fairly recent acquisition for him, and he still was not used to the preferential treatment. Not that, as the younger son of a viscount, he was treated shabbily by any means, but somehow it seemed every businessman from London to Timbuktu knew instinctively that the title had been bestowed upon him, and as a result, they were treating him like ... well, royalty.

"I don't need your best room, man," Michael growled. "I just want a room."

The clerk hesitated. "The only room we have is just at the top of the stairs. With the front door right there, it can become rather noisy, sir, and, er —"

"That's fine," Michael interrupted. "I'll take it." As tired as he was, he didn't honestly anticipate a problem sleeping through any noise, doors or otherwise.

"B-but, sir ..." the clerk stammered.

Michael pinned the man with a piercing glare and the clerk wisely stopped his nattering and handed Michael a key. After signing the register, Michael made arrangements for the care of his horse and then gratefully headed up the stairs. He paused only for a moment to attend to his toilette before falling face-first onto the bed. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

Unfortunately, what felt like just minutes later — but was in actuality closer to an hour — Michael was awakened by a loud pounding on the front door of the inn (situated, as he was warned, directly below his room). Cursing under his breath, he tried to drown out the racket by covering his head with a pillow. When that didn't work, and the knocking could still be heard minutes later, Michael decided there was nothing to do but go answer the door himself.

"The innkeeper must keep his quarters in the next town," Michael muttered to himself, as he yanked the door open and peered down the stairs. Apparently, he wasn't the only one roused by the pounding, even in light of his abominable room placement (his own fault, he acknowledged), as he counted no less than four other guests peeking out of their rooms, as well.

Reaching up to tug on his non-existent hat, Michael indicated that he would go check on the trouble. As a thank-you, the rest of the guests disappeared into their rooms without even a "how-do-you-do." Shrugging, he headed down the stairs to open the door.

Just as Michael stepped onto the middle landing of the stairs, the innkeeper's wife — resplendent in a rumpled robe and slippers — stumbled out from behind the front desk.

The fact that the woman was opening the door at all was, frankly, a bit curious. Didn't establishments such as these keep a night staff for just this reason? One would think that travelers could arrive at any time, day or night.

Of course, now that the knocking had come to an end, all he wanted to do was return to his bed and sleep. Yawning widely, Michael was halfway up the stairs when he heard something that caused him to stop in his tracks.

"I am Lieutenant-Colonel De Bourg, aide-de-camp of Lord Cathcart. I need to speak to the innkeeper immediately."

Michael turned around and peered down the stairs toward the front door. Standing in the entryway was a man wearing a richly embroidered scarlet uniform, dripping with sea spray, and adorned with medals on his breast and a dark fur traveling cap, banded with gold, on his head. Even Michael could find nothing about this man that belied who he said he was, and yet, something was not quite right here.

Before his brother had died unexpectedly of the influenza two years ago, Michael had been a soldier in the British Army. He had just been promoted to the rank of captain and he had foreseen a long illustrious career in the service of his country; however, that was not to be.

It had taken him some time to settle into the life of the "idle rich" — though honestly, he probably did more with his estates than most property owners did — but finally, after two years, he had learned to respond to the address of Lord Lichfield, rather than look over his shoulder for his brother or father.

However, two years as viscount did not erase his memory of nearly eight years in the army, and Michael remembered very much about his time in service, including a brief period of commission with Lord Cathcart at an encampment in France. In fact, Michael recalled being introduced to his aide-de-camp, Du Bourg, a number of times while he was stationed there.


Excerpted from Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount by Catherine Hemmerling, Stacy Abrams. Copyright © 2014 Catherine Hemmerling. Excerpted by permission of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
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.

Meet the Author

Catherine Hemmerling has been a technical writer in the software industry for nearly twenty years and has published many user manuals and technical documentation in that time. She has always had a love for writing fiction, but has only recently begun publications in that genre. Hopefully, it is the beginning of a long new journey. She is also the author of Taming Her Forbidden Earl and Romancing His English Rose in the Lady Lancaster Garden Society series for Entangled Scandalous. Catherine happily resides in Tehachapi, California with her family. Visit her online at www.catherinehemmerling.com.

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Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount 3.5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 2 reviews.
2_PMVH More than 1 year ago
A Fairy Godmother uses her pixie dust to unlock the heroine's GIRL POWER to snag & capture her Viscount's heart! Hope Stuckeley is the happiest knew she is surrounded my her precious numbers, ledgers & giving her dad financial advice. She is intelligent, feisty, love mysteries & she gets all that & more with Lady Elizabeth Lancaster's Garden Society, which is actually a spy-in-training camp. Hope is tasked with working on the London Stock Exchange hoax & her yummy companion is the newly minted Viscount Lichfield. Michael Ashore is a humble soldier & 2nd son, but his older brother's death has thrusted the unwanted Viscount title unto his unprepared shoulders. He loves to be useful & the lazy life of a titled man is so not his speed, so he still gets down & dirty with his estates, tenants & often arrives at home full of caked mud. Michael was recruited by the Duke & Duchess of Lancaster to become a War Office spy, so when he witnesses a Lt. Colonel Du Borg imposter spreading the news of Napoleon's death, he is dragged back into the welcome world of spy mayhem. Plus he is partner with the sexy lady he has admired from afar, Miss Hope Stuckey. Lady Elizabeth Lancaster (she likes to be called Lady, not the stuffy Duchess) & her deceased hubby, the Duke, never had kids, so she collects unique people & adopts them into her world. She handpicks her female spies, but she does find their equal mates, pushes them together, via skullduggery cases & she is the unofficial Fairy Godmother of this story! Hope wears her gentleman disguise of britches, shocks Michael & wakes up his inner caveman. They learn to work together to uncover the individuals, who planned this hoax, made over £1 million & begin them to justice. Soon they narrow it down to 4 men & Hope's father, Mr. Stuckeley, is on that list. Michael tries so hard to cage up his passions, but Hope has a innocently sexy tea party & kisses him 1st & "HELLO" his freight train of lust is off & running! Interrupted by Hope's 4 young siblings, but Michael knows he is in serious trouble with his conflicted feelings running amuck. There is serious espionage, knee melting kisses, greedy men behind the scenes, Fairy Godmother Elizabeth with her loving pixie dust flying, a heroine with a super large phobia of heights, a hero swallowing his amphibians (I totally stole that line from the author) & an adrenaline fueled ride to make you spin left than right & then send you into nosedive down a steep cliff. Will Hope's father ruin her budding love for Michael? Can Michael embrace his beautiful Hope's love of all things numbers? How will Lady Elizabeth use her pixie dust to bring them together? If they marry, will Hope wear her famous & sexy britches? This is my 1st Catherine Hemmerling tale, but she got me with her unique & super huggable Fairy Godmother, Lady Elizabeth. I love Fairy Godmothers that comes in all shapes & sizes & use their special pixie dust for love. This story had a lot of conspiracies that moved the story into great situations for Hope & Michael. Hope is a super number genius with a pretty face & tried to hide her intelligence, but that is where Lady Elizabeth & her Garden Society girls came in & made her realize that females are so much more. Ms. Hemmerling embraced her totally GIRL POWER into this spinning tale & I can't wait to read the other Garden Society girls' stories. Michael was a tightrope walker with no safe net with his new Viscount title, but he soon becomes aware that he is exactly the same man & said, "Up yours society!" I love an author who shows not only the characters' flaws, but socks it to society, too & Ms. Hemmerling does it in spades. A romance needs kisses, caresses & temptations galore, but Ms. Hemmerling slowly shimmered the sexual build up. I personal was disappointed with the lack of steamy scenes, but she redeemed herself with their 1 night of ecstasy driven pleasures. I give this new-to-me author a score of 3 fingers up & 8 toes for this Fairy Godmother inspired romance of double-dealing & greed. NetGalley ARC given for my honest review.
WorldsCollide More than 1 year ago
An enjoyable historical romance, Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount was a lovely read. It had sweet romance, I surprising betrayal, and I quite liked it. Hope was a lovely heroine. She was a proper, dutiful lady at first, but she didn't want to be that lady anymore. Over the course of the book, she proved that she was clever and stronger than she thought herself to be. I thought she was great. Michael was also wonderful. I thought it was adorable how, despite being generally well spoken, he found himself floundering for words whenever Hope was around. He was sweet and as clever as Hope was. I thought he was a perfect hero. The romance was sweet. It was slightly frustrating how long it took Hope and Michael to actually settle on having a relationship, but I still thought they were great together. They were both clever and definitely each other's match. The plot was well paced and I was kept interested the entire way through. It was surprising who one of the culprits of the stock market scandal turned out to be and how it led to a huge betrayal. I enjoyed the story and the ending was lovely. Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount was an enjoyable historical romance. It was sweet and I ended up liking it. Romance lovers, this is a book you might want to check out. *I received a complimentary copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review