Spotlight & Giveaway: The Mysterious Lord Millcroft by Virginia Heath

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Virginia Heath to HJ!

Hi Virginia and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Mysterious Lord Millcroft!

 
Thanks for inviting me back. It’s always a pleasure to be here!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

The Mysterious Lord Millcroft is an unlikely romance between two people who are complete opposites in every way. A painfully shy spy on a secret mission to catch dangerous smugglers and an effervescent Incomparable who is desperate to snare her duke after a very prolonged and insipid courtship. Circumstances throw them together and they agree to team up. Clarissa will help Seb navigate society and in return he will make her duke jealous. Except, things don’t go quite according to plan…
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

Clarissa yelped as the door slammed suddenly open in the silence, the soggy piece of shortbread falling from her fingers and smearing strawberry jam over the front of her nightgown. Not that Clarissa noticed. She was too busy gaping at the sight of the semi-naked Mr Leatham propped against the frame.
He was wearing breeches and a bandage.
Nothing else.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• Both characters in this first instalment of my new King’s Elite series are recycled from previous books in my Wild Warriners series. Clarissa is the spoiled sister in A Warriner to Tempt Her and Seb is the hero’s best friend in A Warriner to Seduce Her
• I knew I had to write Seb’s book when I first introduced him in the previous book. ‘All eyes instinctively travelled to the jagged and impressive scar down Seb Leatham’s right cheek. Even without the scar, his friend resembled a bare-knuckle fighter and tended to be monosyllabic around the opposite sex.’ Immediately he intrigued me
• I named him Seb after my dopey childhood pet cat
• In my head, the hero looks like Tom Hardy in Mad Max
• I accidentally named a side character in The Mysterious Lord Millcroft after a Facebook follower and only realised it during the final copy edit! He is now called Lord Graham Chadwick and his book is the 3rd of my King’s Elite Series.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

For Seb, his attraction to Clarissa is instantaneous, but being painfully shy and not noble born, he doesn’t consider for a second he might stand a chance with her. He also suspects that the confident, perfect exterior is a façade and it’s the real woman underneath who intrigues him. For Clarissa, while she has an immediate physical attraction to him, it’s the way he behaves around her that first calls to her. Seb listens to what she says and treats her as more than an ornament- and that is very empowering for her.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

As I’ve said, Tom Hardy would be Seb and the gorgeous Amanda Siegfried would be Clarissa. I’d choose this scene from the beginning of the book as the audition, where a semi-naked and recently injured Seb stumbles across Clarissa enjoying a covert midnight snack in her nightgown and hair rags…

He jabbed the air with his finger, ferocious once again. ‘Brandy! Lots of it!’
Clarissa scurried over to the decanter and sloshed as much over her quivering hand as she did in the glass. She pressed it into his, the touch playing yet more havoc with her bouncing nerve-endings, holding it steady as he brought it to his mouth and then severing the contact as quickly as she could because her uncharacteristic reaction frightened her.
It wasn’t like her to be so flustered around a man. Being a flirt and charming them was probably the only thing she truly excelled at, yet here she was, more flustered than she had ever been in her life. Mr Leatham had managed to make her feel off -kilter since the first moment she had laid eyes on him this morning. With his clothes on he was disconcerting. Without them he thoroughly disorientated her. In such close proximity to his breathtaking presence, Clarissa was uncomfortably lost for words.
Mute she watched him gulp down the brandy, trying to ignore the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow or how his ridiculously broad shoulders rose and fell in time with his laboured breathing. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, the empty glass still clasped limply in his hand.
‘Would you like some more?’
He nodded without opening his eyes and held out the crystal balloon. ‘Don’t be stingy with it.’
Clarissa made sure no part of her hand touched his as she took it, refilled the glass and passed it back. For a moment, she seriously considered pouring herself some to steady her nerves, then decided against it because her wits were scrambled quite enough already. There was no telling what they would do under the influence of fortifying spirits. This time he sipped the brandy more slowly and she was relieved to see the colour begin to return to his face. Only when he had eventually drained the second glass did he open his eyes and look at her.
And, good gracious, did he look at her. His dark eyes slowly raked her body from the face down, then darkened as they laboriously climbed back up to meet hers.
Then he chuckled. The sound more intoxicating than any brandy.
‘You look like Medusa.’
The chuckle turned into a laugh which had him wincing as he held his abdomen.
‘And is that jam all over your front?’
One hand went to her head and then her bosom ineffectually. ‘You caught me by surprise. I dropped my biscuit!’ A true gentleman would never have mentioned it. Not outright at any rate. The fact that he had made her feel silly and exposed. ‘What do you think you are about slamming through doors in the dead of night? It’s your fault I look a fright.’
He glanced to the stain on her front, then back to her head. ‘Then I apologise for frightening you—but that still doesn’t explain your hair. What the blazes have you done to it?’
Both hands now shielded the brightly coloured array of rags sticking up from her head, as if covering them now would erase the mortification she’d experienced at having him see them. Attempting haughty indifference, Clarissa returned her hands to her sides. ‘The rags set the curls.’
‘I knew they weren’t natural.’ More evidence of his lack of gentlemanly manners.
‘No ladies’ curls are natural. We all go to bed like this.’
‘Why?’
‘Because curls are becoming.’
‘Ah. I see.’ Although he plainly didn’t. Still smiling, he leant forward and flicked one of them. ‘They look painful. Do they hurt?’
Yes. ‘No. I barely notice them.’
‘But they are dragging your eyebrows up. You look permanently startled.’ His lips twitched again. ‘Do you wake up with your face aching?’
‘Oh, go ahead. Laugh. Have your fun. I doubt a mere farmer from Norfolk would understand the world I live in.’
She had meant to offend him, remind him his manners were sadly lacking and to put him back in his place, yet he didn’t appear the slightest bit offended. ‘You poor thing! I never realised how the other half suffered. I’m curious—without those…’ he gestured to her head ‘…monstrosities, what does your hair really look like?’
‘It is as straight as a poker. Just like my sister’s.’ Why had she confessed that?
‘Bella has lovely hair.’
‘Yes, of course she does, but…’ Having to justify her choice of hairstyle was ridiculous, so she clamped her mouth shut in case she said things she would rather he didn’t know. Bella didn’t have to be persistently beautiful every waking minute of the day. She had her man. And her enormous brain and copious talents.
‘But you are the Incomparable, therefore your hair has to curl. Your clothes have to be perfect. Every nuanced movement has to convey your sheer perfection. A diamond of the first water.’ He wafted his large hand in the air like a ballet dancer. Mocking her. Earlier he could barely string two words together, and now suddenly he was capable of the most cruel and cutting insults. More cruel because they were completely accurate. The insufferable, insightful man.
‘Go back to planting your turnips!’ Clarissa stomped to the door.
‘It was turkeys actually, not turnips. But mostly geese, if you must know. Norfolk is famous for its poultry. Every year my grandfather would walk them to London wearing little leather boots to protect their feet. Always made me laugh as a child. Birds in boots.’ He said this conversationally, his deep voice slurring slightly. Clarissa turned against her better judgement and saw him slumped a little and smiling soppily. It was the brandy loosening his tongue, she realised. She had given him rather a lot of it.

Readers should read this book….

There’s a painfully shy hero for once. Who doesn’t really have a title. The heroine has a dark secret. Opposites really do attract. And they all live happily ever after 😉

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

The Mysterious Lord Millcroft is the first book in my King’s Elite Quartet. Like all my books, they can be read as standalones or altogether. The second instalment is called The Uncompromising Lord Flint and comes out late December. Then books three and four come out next year. Their working titles are The Disgraceful Lord Gray and The Inscrutable Lord Hadleigh. I am currently writing Lord Hadleigh’s story, then I shall be writing a Victorian Christmas novel for 2019.

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Three signed paperback copies of The Mysterious Lord Millcroft. This giveaway is open internationally.

 
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Excerpt from The Mysterious Lord Millcroft:

‘Bella said you are lucky to be alive, Mr Leatham.’
‘So they tell me.’ Now he sounded typically clipped and unfriendly, his eyebrows already aching with the force of his scowl while the weight of her expectant stare was making his toes curl inside his boots. At a loss as to how to salvage the situation, he stared down at his hands and willed the floor to open up and swallow him.
‘I see you are reticent to talk about it.’
‘Seb is a man of few words.’ He could hear the affectionate smile in Bella’s voice and risked glancing up, only to find his eyes immediately lock once again with Lady Clarissa’s. She must have seen the heat and longing hidden in their depths because the corners of her plump, pink mouth curved knowingly. He supposed a woman like her was used to being admired, but it still annoyed him to be so transparent, so he resolutely stared back at his coarse, callused hands with the most unfriendly expression he could muster. Why had he gazed winsomely at her? Society ladies weren’t for him any more than society was. What a fawning idiot.
‘Or Mr Leatham is merely being mysterious to pique my interest?’
Pique her interest! Now she was making fun of him. Seb lifted his eyes defiantly as he glared, his stubborn pride refusing to let him appear less than he wanted the world to see, or revealing his pitiful shyness. ‘There’s nothing much to tell, my lady. It all happened in a moment.’
‘A significant moment, though.’
‘Which rendered me blessedly unconscious.’ An outright lie as he had lain on the ground in agony in a pool of his own blood far too aware of his life ebbing away. ‘I have no memories of the event. Nothing to entertain you with.’ Splendid. He was barking again. Conscious of the vision’s eyes still on him, Seb sat silently and hoped she’d quickly lose interest, as ladies were often prone to do when confronted with his legendary charm and lack of real gentlemanly credentials.
A waft of something truly wonderful and feminine tickled his nose as she moved to sit on the sofa with her sister. Whatever it was, it altered the air in the room until everything was enlivened by her fragrance, heightening his remaining senses while he avoided directly looking at either of them in case he appeared smitten as well as struck dumb. He heard rather than saw the rattle of teacups. Mumbled thanks as his forgotten one was removed and replaced with a fresh one, then only risked picking it up when the two ladies were happily chatting about the state of the roads between Nottinghamshire and London. When the topic changed to society gossip, Seb allowed himself to relax while simultaneously trying to blend into the wallpaper. As there was nothing he could add to the conversation and nobody was likely to ask him anything, he took his first sip and covertly studied the vision as she talked.
Lady Clarissa was every inch a beautiful and sophisticated titled lady. Impeccably attired in what he assumed were the latest fashions, there wasn’t a single hair out of place on her pretty head despite the fact she had travelled two hundred miles in a carriage. The symmetrical and casually loose ringlets which framed her cheeks were too bouncy, the intoxicating perfume too vibrant. If he were a betting man, Seb would lay good money on the fact she had stopped at an inn close by so that she could repair any damage and arrive looking as fresh as a daisy, rather than as wilted as a wet lettuce leaf like all the mere mortals would after days on the road. Surely nobody was that perfect? Judging by the creaseless silk of her becoming travelling dress, she had changed, too. No fabric looked that good after a jaunt up the Great North Road, especially when it moulded to her upper body like a second skin.
And it wasn’t just the external façade which both bothered and intrigued him. Her voice was like warm honey, slow yet animated at the same time. Perfect for story-telling and he found his own ears hanging on her every word while his eyes kept being pulled by some invisible force to watch her. Whilst that was no hardship, the more he observed, the more he saw.
She had that practised way of moving he had noticed in others of her ilk, only magnified, which showed off her face and figure to perfection, yet the effortless grace didn’t quite ring true either. A tad too choreographed to be natural. Even the position of her fingers as she held her teacup smacked of previous rehearsal, as if she had spent hours sat in front of a mirror, trying to discern the very best position to show off the delicate bones and the slimness of her wrist beneath the gossamer lace at her cuffs. Too perfect once again. Everything about her was too perfect, from her ridiculously long and seductive lashes to the oh-so-casual flick of that precisely positioned wrist.
Seb spent most of his life pretending to be someone else, usually a better man than he was, so he recognised an act when he saw one. Lady Clarissa Beaumont was a good actress. So good that her own sister didn’t appear to notice the brittleness of some of her smiles or the flashes of sadness in her lovely cornflower eyes between blinks. The unconscious jerkiness of some of those movements that suggested she was nervous or uncomfortable.
While there was no doubting the instant and wholly male reaction he had experienced upon first meeting her, because she truly was the most exquisite woman he had ever seen, it was that hidden mystery which now piqued his interest. Those little clues to the real woman she might be beneath the carefully constructed mask she wore so well.
She must have sensed him watching her, because her eyes suddenly locked again with his. ‘Don’t think for a minute I have forgotten you, Mr Leatham.’ Hot tea sloshed out of his cup and on to his leg at his being so hideously caught out. Only sheer pride held back the yelp of pain as he forced himself to return her gaze. For several long moments she searched his almost snarling face, then she picked up her teacup again and slanted him a coquettish glance over the rim.
‘There is nothing I adore as much as a mysterious man. Is there a Mrs Leatham I should know about?’
The sudden and unexpected flirting tied his damn tongue into gauche knots again, although while he faltered he also knew with certainty she had done it on purpose. Another layer of artful trickery to hide the real her.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Book Info:

Life as a duchess… Or something much more dangerous…?
Constantly told her beauty and charm is all she has to offer, Lady Clarissa is intent on marrying a duke. And intriguing spy Sebastian Leatham will help her! Only first she’ll assist him with his new assignment—playing the part of confident aristocrat Lord Millcroft. Sebastian awakens a burning desire within Clarissa which leaves her questioning whether becoming a duchess is what she truly longs for…
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Meet the Author:

When Virginia Heath was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older, the stories became more complicated, sometimes taking weeks to get to the happy ending. Then one day, she decided to embrace the insomnia and start writing them down. Fortunately, the lovely people at Harlequin Mills & Boon took pity on her and decided to publish her romances, but it still takes her forever to fall asleep.
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