Dammit.
He ignored Danforth’s warning tap on his shoulder and peered into the young man’s cell again. The prisoner’s filthy legs and arms splayed in a perfect X across the table’s bloodstained surface. A few feet away, with his back to the prisoner, stood a slender man dressed in the clothes of a gentleman, his unusual white-capped head bent in concentration over an assortment of spine-chilling instruments. Boucher.
Guy watched the man assess each device with the careful attention of an enraptured lover, masterfully prolonging the young man’s terror. Give a victim long enough, and he’ll create plenty of painful scenes in his own mind that the interrogator need only touch his weapon to the prisoner’s skin to elicit a full, babbling confession.
He couldn’t walk away from the poor soul struggling on the table, nor could he cold-bloodedly put an end to his misery. The young man was a countryman, not his enemy, and he would never leave one of his own in Valère’s hands.
With great care, he withdrew a six-inch hunting knife from his boot. He heard Danforth curse softly, violently, behind him, and then a rustle of movement. His hand shot out to stay his friend, and a short struggle ensued. Their roles now reversed, Guy whispered in Danforth’s ear, “There’s no way around, and I’m not leaving him here.”
“We don’t have time—”
“I’m. Not. Leaving. Him.”
After a moment, Danforth gave a sharp nod and settled into the rear support position once more, anger dripping off him in waves.
He couldn’t blame his friend for wanting to press on. Evil penetrated every crack and hollow of this place. Even with his vast experience with the darker side of human nature, Guy felt trapped and edgy and unusually desperate.
Guy shifted his attention to the prisoner just as the young man’s head swiveled toward the open doorway. Bleakness and terror etched his swollen, blood-encrusted face, but something more blazed behind the young man’s steady gaze—strength, fortitude, and a hint of hope.
He was a fighter, a warrior entombed in a rapidly weakening young man’s body. A rush of fury mixed with a healthy dose of respect surged through Guy. How did one so young get involved with the likes of Valère?
The prisoner’s chest rose high with each deep, agonized breath. As his torturer intended, the young man knew Boucher’s next attempt at pulling information from him would be far worse than the last.
Candlelight flickered over his youthful features. When the prisoner focused in on Guy’s position, his terrified blue-green eyes—or eye, as one was little more than a bloated slit—opened wide.
Guy’s heart jolted, fearing the young man would call out. With an index finger to his lips, he motioned for the prisoner to remain quiet.
Familiarity washed over Guy again. His gaze cleaved to the prisoner’s; his focus sharpened.
Blue-green eyes. An unusual color Guy had seen only once before. His muscles contracted. A wave of frigid heat swept across every inch of his skin, and nausea twisted in his gut.
He knew those eyes.
The young man wasn’t a man at all. But a goddamned woman.
Cora.
A Lady’s Revenge, available now on Kindle!
Links to My Other Books:
Nexus Series
A Lady’s Revenge
Checkmate, My Lord
A Lady’s Secret Weapon
Latymer (e-novella)
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to all the readers who have embraced my Nexus series and this e-novella, Latymer. Writing these unconventional Regency stories was a lot of fun.
Thanks to Valerie Gray, my editor on Latymer, who helped me see his potential. Crafting his journey was an incredible experience I won’t soon forget. Thanks for showing me the way.
Big hugs to Kim Killion for designing the perfect cover. I am in constant awe of your talent.
Huge thanks to the ever-awesome Danielle Gorman for keeping me organized and on track.
Tons of love to the Dangerous Darlings Street Team—you rock!
No book is ever complete without acknowledging the tremendous support I receive from my wonderful husband, Tim, and my critique partners—Tara, Kelsey, Theresa, and Adrienne. I couldn’t do any of this without you.
Make every day the best adventure you can!
About the Author
Photo by: Lisa Kaman Kenning, Mezzaluna Photography
Tracey Devlyn is an award-winning author of historical romantic thrillers (translation: a slightly more grievous journey toward the heroine’s happy ending). She’s cofounder of Romance University, a group blog dedicated to readers and writers of romance, and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, Chicagoland’s exciting new reading salon devoted to romantic fiction.
An Illinois native, Tracey spends her evenings harassing her once-in-a-lifetime husband and her weekends torturing her characters. For more information on Tracey, including her Internet haunts, contest updates, and details on her upcoming novels, please visit her website at TraceyDevlyn.com.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Part 1: Loving Father
Latymer
Giles
Part Two: Desperate Father
Latymer
Giles
Mac
Giles
Mac
Part 3: Protective Father
Latymer
Giles
Latymer
Epilogue
Thank You!
Excerpt—A Lady’s Revenge
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Part 1: Loving Father
Latymer
Mac
Giles
Part Two: Desperate Father
Latymer
Giles
Mac
Giles
Mac
Part 3: Protective Father
Latymer
Giles
Latymer
Epilogue
Thank You!
Excerpt—A Lady’s Revenge
Acknowledgments
About the Author