Spotlight & Giveaway: The Wedding Night Affair by L.C. Sharp

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you L.C. Sharp’s new release: The Wedding Night Affair

An unlikely pair explores the darkest corners of London society in this thrilling historical mystery.

 
The year is 1748, and Lady Juliana Uppingham awakens in a pool of blood, with no memory of how her new husband ended up dead beside her. Her distaste for her betrothed was no secret, but even so, Juliana couldn’t possibly have killed him…could she?

Juliana’s only hope is Sir Edmund Ashendon, a dashing baronet with a knack for solving seemingly unsolvable crimes—and a reputation for trouble. A man as comfortable in the rookeries of St. Giles as he is in the royal court, Ash believes Juliana is innocent, though all signs point to her as the killer. He doesn’t expect to develop a soft spot for the spirited widow, one that only grows when escalating threats against Juliana force Ash to shelter her in his home.

When another body is found, it becomes clear that Juliana has been dragged into something much, much bigger than simply her husband’s murder. With a collection of deadly black-tipped feathers as their sole clue and a date at the end of a hangman’s noose looming, they’ll have to find the real killer—before it’s too late.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from The Wedding Night Affair 

Ash strode along his side of the square, passing the grandeur of Newcastle House, home of the prime min¬ister’s brother. His grace happened to be leaving his house, stepping into his carriage. He exchanged a nod with Ash. Quite something, being on nodding terms with one of the most powerful men in the country.
He took a gossip sheet from a shouting child and tossed him twopence for his trouble. The child snatched the coins from the air.
Gossip was part of Ash’s trade, one way he learned about cases that went on to occupy his time. That, and the information he received from the courts.
Bow Street was less than a half mile from Lincoln’s Inn Fields, a mere ten-minute walk, if he took his time, which he did. Strolling down the broad thoroughfare of Great Queen Street, crossing Drury Lane and going down to Bow Street gave him a chance to reflect and plan, or just to watch life going on all around him.
He passed the coffee houses associated with the great and good and not so great and good, walked past shops selling everything the world had to offer, dodged past ladies in skirts so wide they could not walk two abreast, and neater City women casting disdainful glances in their direction. London had many tribes, and the wealthy City merchants despised the occupants of Mayfair in a mutual balance that worked well until they were threatened from the outside.
The less salubrious elements, fresh out of the gutters in the lawless rookeries were scattered about, not all as obvious as the urchins darting from one to another, begging for pennies before, and cutting purses behind.
Outside the Magistrate’s Court, the crowd seemed even more agitated than usual, as if a sensational case was about to be brought. What had happened since the boy had brought him his list earlier that morning? Something had, that was for sure.
Ash had to work his way through a press of people to get inside. Even here, pickpockets were about, but when a small hand reached for his coat pocket, he slapped it away without looking.
Inside, the official by the door touched his fingers to his forehead and let him pass, but stopped him when he would have entered the court. “Mr. Fielding wants a word, Sir Edmund.”
Ash nodded and changed direction. Fielding’s office was the other way.
There were two Fieldings at Bow Street, but the cur¬rent magistrate was Mr. Henry Fielding, a man of many talents and many careers. His current profession had proved his most successful so far, and he had instituted reforms that affected the law at the deepest level. For one thing, he had, if not eliminated corruption in his district, reduced it to a vanishing point. His brother John proved an able partner in this enterprise, and the press was reveling in the blind beak and his author brother.
Fielding, a square-jawed and firm-shouldered man in his fifties, sat behind his scarred desk surrounded by law texts, papers and worn leather folders like the one he carried. He glanced at the gossip sheet in Ash’s hand. “Have you looked at that thing yet?”
Ash shrugged. “The usual society gossip.”
Fielding shoved a sheet of paper across the desk. “Read this one. It came out an hour after the one you have.” He waved to a seat before the desk.
Ash perched his backside on the hard chair and rested his folder on the desk. He glanced at the sheet. The Daily Ransom, an up and coming journal, but these things rose and fell like the tides on the Thames.
He spotted something, and paid it more attention. Fielding passed him a magnifying glass, but his eye¬sight was good enough to read the blurred print.
“‘A horrible crime was committed in the dead of night, and an upstanding member of society murdered in his bed—by his wife!
“‘Lady Juliana Christianson, the only daughter of the Earl of Hawskworth, has been a stalwart member of society for some time. Her status as an heiress prevented her sinking into spinsterhood, and she was re¬puted to be an obedient woman of modest demeanor.’”
Perfect wife material, Ash imagined. Except for him. When he married, it would be to a woman of spirit and intelligence, not a woman described as obedient and modest. He continued to read.
“‘Yesterday she married the second son of the Mar¬quess of Urmston, to general rejoicing. After a lavish wedding breakfast, the married couple retired to their chamber to celebrate their nuptials in the usual way.
“‘This morning Lady Juliana was discovered cov¬ered in blood, stark naked, lying next to her husband. She had driven a dagger through his heart. The man was stone dead. She had spent the night by his side, no doubt gloating over her crime.
“‘As yet, no motive has been given for this terrible act—if such a dreadful crime can even claim to have a motive attached to it. We expect matters to be made clearer, but we owe our readers the information.
“‘The lady was heretofore quiet, her manner mod¬est, but who knows what evil lies beneath her genteel surface?’”
He scanned the rest of the piece. The article went on, but what followed was sensational speculation and an invitation to buy the next edition, where they would set out the reasons for the lady’s actions. There were no interesting facts listed. Ash thrived on facts. Paying close attention to what had actually happened, instead of making instant suppositions always paid dividends.
He scanned the account, lurid imagery and all, and then read it again. The only thing that distinguished this case was the status of the participants. The woman had likely taken umbrage at something her husband had said, and stabbed him. He tossed the paper aside.
“Surely the lady has been arrested? Isn’t this a clear-cut case of murder, and a society scandal? What does it have to do with me?”
Fielding cleared his throat and folded his hands over his waistcoat, which was green if one didn’t count the snuff stains. “The lady is the daughter and sole heir of the Earl of Hawksworth. It’s common knowledge that whoever marries her will in all likelihood be awarded her father’s title after his demise.”
That part was vaguely interesting. “You mean the title descends through the female?” That was almost unheard of.
Fielding shook his head, his bob wig catching on a but¬ton on his coat. Impatiently, he tweaked it free and reset¬tled the offending object on his head. “No, sir, it does not. There is no male heir to the title. But the current earl has petitioned the Crown to allow the earldom to be bestowed on his daughter’s husband after his own death as a new creation. In short, he has greased the palms of a number of officials at the Crown Office and at court. Naturally, they must approve of the candidate, but they’d award the title to a monkey if the money was good enough.”
A little more interesting, Ash had to admit. “So who¬ever married the lady had the promise of the earldom, too. She is not only a considerable heiress, but has a title in her grasp.”

Excerpt. ©L.C. Sharp. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: 1 ebook copy of THE WEDDING NIGHT AFFAIR by L.C. Sharp (open internationally)

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Meet the Author:

L.C. Sharp lives in the north of Britain. She has researched, loved and lived history all her life and now she gets to write about it!
She has written stories since her early attempts to rewrite the Morte D’Arthur and the novels of Georgette Heyer. History is important to her, from the days when her parents took her to a different stately home every weekend.
Now she gets to share that love with you.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Wedding-Night-Affair-Historical-Mystery-ebook/dp/B08K3GGSZD
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-wedding-night-affair/id1533416336
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-wedding-night-affair-lc-sharp/1138795548
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/L_C_Sharp_The_Wedding_Night_Affair?id=60r_DwAAQBAJ
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-wedding-night-affair-5

Ash & Juliana
Book 1: The Wedding Night Affair (available May 11)
Book 2: The Sign of the Raven (available August 17)