Donald Desmond is a man who holds a grudge well. As the right hand man to the town’s star cricket player, he is used to getting his way and cackling at anyone he deems unworthy. Christian immediately rubs him the wrong way and getting even becomes Desmond’s greatest desire. As one of the key people that the murder swirls around, Desmond is a danger to their investigation and possibly their lives.

Donald Desmond. He thought he had heard someone call out the name earlier. The man had dark hair and dark eyes and looked to be on par with his bully friend, Janson. Desmond shot Christian a hard, cold look that promised retribution. He was obviously not the kind of man who took well to being beaten.

The hierarchy was soon apparent as the combatants tidied up. Janson ruled their side of the cricket divide, with Desmond sneering at his side.

“Donald is taking a position in London with a barrister. Some connection through his family.”

High on the instep, Mr. Crescent seeks to rise, with his wife, to the top. They stop at the inn on their way to London – or so they say. Quick to point the finger at someone else, Mr. Crescent blusters and blames. Is he trying to hide something? And is Mrs. Crescent using her husband to hide her own plans?

Mr. Crescent raised his chin above his somewhat old-fashioned, but nevertheless well-tailored jacket; his similarly styled wife stalwartly nodding in agreement.

“Mr. Crescent was particularly interested in what was happening. Mary said he cornered Mr. Freewater earlier and badgered him about something.”

Mrs. Crescent frowned, irritated at being outmaneuvered. “You should have arranged for something else, Mr. Black. It isn’t done.”

A cricket player from a neighboring town, Lawrence Lake stays the night at The Dragon’s Tale instead of returning home. What does he hope to accomplish? Is he courting a lady, stirring up trouble, or engaging in something far more dastardly…

Lawrence Lake’s brown eyes narrowed dangerously upon Julius Janson’s self-satisfied face. Lake, the leaner of the two, wiped the back of his sleeve across his torn lip. Blood was running freely from the wound.

The innkeeper’s daughter Mary, the epitome of the healthy country lass, was in front, her brows drawn together. Christian glanced back to see Lake’s pained expression. Ah, so that was the way the wind blew.

Janson sauntered out onto the balcony, leaving a raging Lake to punch the hardwood wall where his head had resided moments before.

Stuck together due to an overcrowding situation at the Inn, Christian makes Kate bristle and Kate makes Christian want to strip her of all her…secrets.

She scowled, but instead of responding in kind, his full lips curved into a long, sensual smile. Here was a man who obviously knew his appeal and how to manipulate others using it.

Kate took a step back, her heart beating even faster, and his hand dropped from her chin, his thumb from her lips. “What do you want?” Her words came out on a breath. She studied the worn red and blue rug on the floor before remembering the danger of not keeping her eyes on the man before her.

Christian’s gaze traveled down to observe a smooth neck mostly hidden by the oversized clothing, and back up to flashing light blue eyes, resentful and enigmatic.

For an excerpt involving Christian and Kate, the hero and heroine of The Earl of Her Dreams, click here.