Donna Hatch is the author of the best-selling “Rogue Hearts Series,” and a winner of writing awards such as The Golden Quill and the International Digital Award. A hopeless romantic and adventurer at heart, she discovered her writing passion at the tender age of 8 and has been listening to those voices ever since. She has become a sought-after workshop presenter, and also juggles freelance editing, multiple volunteer positions, and most of all, her six children (seven, counting her husband). A native of Arizona who recently transplanted to the Pacific Northwest, she and her husband of over twenty years are living proof that there really is a happily ever after.
Lady Margaret secretly yearns for love, but fate has exchanged wedded bliss for a lie. When she is caught hovering over her cheating husband’s dead body, she is instantly doomed to hang for his murder. Without hope for justice, Margaret flees into the night alone. A cynical Bow Street Constable, Connor Jackson, vows to bring the fugitive Lady Margaret to face the law—but, he doesn’t expect sparks to fly between them. Could the strong yet tender lady truly be a killer?
As more suspects—and even more condemning evidence—surface, the less certain Connor is of his duty. He must choose between his growing feelings for Lady Margaret and the demands of justice. Will the truth tear them apart or set them free to find love?
The Rogue Hearts Series:
The Stranger She Married
The Guise of a Gentleman
A Perfect Secret
The Suspect's Daughter
Not a Fine Gentleman
Praise for Donna Hatch:
“Donna Hatch is one of the masters of clean romance with electric tension and smokin’ hot kisses.” ~ Reading is My Super Power Reviews
“Written with heart and depth, Donna Hatch’s books are absolute must-reads for any fan of swoon-worthy historical romance.” ~ Sarah M. Eden, USA Today best-selling historical romance author
Snippets
Snippet 1
Margaret had no one to blame for her current misery but
herself. She’d been so blinded by the opportunity for an advantageous match,
and so proud she’d garnered the attention of a handsome, charming marquis, that
she’d failed to notice his legion character flaws until too late. Now, sixteen
years into her marriage, she had few options but to keep a brave face and
pretend her heart hadn’t been broken a hundred times over.
As she climbed out of the carriage,
Margaret stopped her line of thought. No need to become maudlin. She marched up the front
steps of the Hennessy London House and passed the neoclassical columns flanking
the entrance. Lights blazed in the windows and spilled out through the fanlight
over the front door, even though neither Margaret nor her erstwhile husband had
been at home this eve.
Gibbs met her at the door and looked down his nose at her.
“Good evening, Lady Hennessy.” The butler’s first loyalty clearly lay with his
lord; he served Margaret with a subtle but unmistakable resentment.
“Good evening, dear Gibbs,” she said in a mockingly sweet
voice as she handed him her cloak and gloves, and contemplated stabbing him with her
hatpin just to see if he’d bleed.
Snippet 2
Under his voice, Jackson said, “Best not to let them know
who you are. Follow my lead.”
Before Margaret could reply, the justice of the peace
called to Jackson.
“Sir, a moment?”
Jackson stood and replied to the JP, “Of course. But as
you can see, my wife has sustained some injuries and I’d like to get her to the
nearest inn where she may rest.”
Margaret barely managed not to let her mouth drop open.
Wife! Of course. His gentle attentiveness had all been part of that ruse.
He’d been playing a role, like an actor. Her pleasure popped like a bubble. She
clenched her hands and clamped down her jaw. It shouldn’t rankle. After all, he
was a low-born working man with the manners of a sailor and the hands of a
field worker. As soon as she safely reunited with her family, she’d dismiss him
and never give him another thought. Ever.
The Justice of the Peace asked Jackson a few questions.
Finally, the JP nodded to Margaret. “Ma’am. Do you have anything to add?”
Margaret spoke in a higher range than usual and put in a
breathy quality to her voice as she once did when prowling ballrooms looking
for a gentleman of rank and wealth to charm her way into a proposal. “Oh, no,
sir. My beloved husband”—she shot an overly adoring gaze at Jackson— “said it
all so beautifully that I have nothing at all to say.” She batted her eyelashes
at him.
Jackson blinked and his eyes widened just enough to reveal
his surprise. He recovered and shrugged at the JP with a smile. “We’re newly
married.”
“Er, thank you both.” The JP strode away to speak to
another passenger.
With his brows raised, Jackson let out a half laugh. “You
should have been on the stage.”
“I might say the same about you.”
Scoundrel. Of course he
knew she was playacting and not
speaking in earnest. She’d been foolish to believe, even for a few seconds,
that he could be tender instead of a complete cad. He was far beneath her
notice. A servant. A peasant. A worm. There, that felt better.
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