Violet (Jane Feather's V Series Book 6)

Jane Feather was born in Cairo, Egypt, and grew up in the south of England. She was trained as a social worker, and, after moving with her husbandand three children to New Jersey, pursued her careerin psychiatric social work. She started writing after she relocated her family to Washington, D.C. Her other Avon Books romances include The Eagle and the Dove , Silver Nights , and Bold Destiny . --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From Publishers Weekly Feather's (Valentine) latest historical romance is great fun, thanks largely to her delightfully iconoclastic heroine. A product of the union of an English aristocrat and a Spanish robber baron, the orphaned Tamsyn has assumed leadership of her father's troop of brigands. Like her father, she exploits the chaos engendered by the Napoleonic Wars to plunder the treasures of the wealthy and to wreak havoc upon the lives of the soldiers whose war games are destroying her native Spain. Quickly becoming a legendary figure known as La Violette, Tamsyn is feared by the French and English armies alike?until the French manage to capture her. Concerned that under torture, she will reveal vital secrets to the enemy, the Duke of Wellington orders young and dashing Colonel Lord Julian St. Simon to kidnap Tamsyn from the French and persuade her to share her secrets with the English instead. Julian soon finds that he has more on his hands than he bargained for: his cunning, spunky and sexually liberated captive wants him in exchange for her information. She wants, that is, for him to take her into his household and turn her into a proper English lady so she can secure an introduction to her mother's family, a plan to which Julian, out of a sense of patriotic duty, reluctantly agrees. So begins a delightful clash of wills, as noble but incurably stuffy Julian attempts with rapidly diminishing success to resist his ward's seductive charms, and free-spirited Tamsyn battles the stifling conventions of English womanhood. Feather's well-paced plot generates lots of laughs, steamy sex and high adventure, as well as some wryly perceptive commentary on the gender stereotypes her heroine so flagrantly defies. Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. Colonel, Lord Julian St. Simon prides himself in his ability to exercise fierce control, whether it be on the battlefield or in the drawing room, contributed by his impeccable aristocratic breeding. But his powerful response to the beautiful bandit, La Violette, shakes his self-exacting propriety to the very core. Born of an English lady and a notorious Spanish brigand, Tamasyn embodies the strength and fiery passion of a woman sure of what she wants, and confident in her ability to get it. In exchange for vital information to the English military, Tamasyn names her brazen price; Julian St. Simon. If she is to be successful in her quest to find her mother's prominent Cornish family she will need his endorsement, as well as his instruction. Julian is outraged by the mandate but loyalty to his country prevents him from refusing. In spite of his determination to resist, he finds himself deeply affected by the stunning temptress. Unknown to him, however, Tamasyn is in pursuit of revenge upon the hated relatives that abandoned her mother and she will allow no one, including the unsuspecting colonel, to jeopardize her mission. Ultimately, love steps in to catch them both unaware and change their hearts forever. Readers will be taken in immediately by this exciting and sensual romance. Jane Feather showcases her talent to quicken your pulse with another powerful love story. Violet is a provocative portrait of seduction, treachery, powerful family intrigues and a delightful battle of wills sure to capture your imagination to the very end. Ms. Feather's deft storytelling satisfies her readers with extraordinary characters, a spellbinding story line spiced with just the right amount of fiery passion to leave them craving more.Lori Wright -- Copyright © 1994-97 Literary Times, Inc. All rights reserved -- From Literary Times --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. From the Publisher "From the extraordinary pen of Jane Feather, nationally bestselling author of Valentine , comes a bewitching tale of a beautiful bandit who's waging a dangerous game of vengeance--and betting everything on love... An author to treasure." -- Romantic Times --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One xa0 PORTUGAL, MARCH 1812 xa0 THE AIDE-DE-CAMP’S BOOTS CLATTERED ON THE WOODEN stairs as he hastened toward the commander in chief’s private office at headquarters in the town of Elvas. Outside the door, however, he slowed, adjusted his stock, pulled down his tunic, smoothed his hair. The Peer didn’t look kindly on untidiness, and he had a savage tongue when he chose. xa0 “Enter!” The command rasped at his knock, and he pushed open the door. There were three men in the large drafty room—a colonel, a major, and the commander in chief, standing by the fire blazing in the hearth to combat the damp chill. It had been raining for five days, a relentless, drenching downpour that made life hell for the infantry digging trenches around the besieged town of Badajos just across the Spanish border. xa0 The aide-de-camp saluted. “Dispatches from intelligence, sir.” He placed a sheaf of papers on the desk. xa0 Wellington grunted acknowledgment and moved from the fire to glance through them. His long, bony nose twitched in disgust. He glanced up toward the two officers beside the fire. “The French have taken La Violette.” xa0 “When, sir?” Colonel, Lord Julian St. Simon held out his hand for the document Wellington was proffering. xa0 “Yesterday, apparently. Cornichet’s men surrounded her band of ruffians outside Olivenza. According to this, they’re holding La Violette in a military outpost outside the town.” xa0 “How reliable is this?” The colonel’s eyes flickered over the dispatch. xa0 Wellington shrugged and shot an interrogatory glance at the aide-de-camp. xa0 “The agent’s one of our best men, sir,” the aide said. “And the information is so fresh, I’d lay any odds it’s correct.” xa0 “Damn,” muttered Wellington. “If the French have her, they’ll wring every scrap of knowledge out of her. She knows how to navigate every goddamned mountain pass from here to Bayonne, and what she doesn’t know about the partisans in the area isn’t worth knowing.” xa0 “We’d better get her out, then,” the colonel drawled as if it were a foregone conclusion, replacing the dispatch on the table. “We can’t allow Johnny Crapaud to have information we don’t have.” xa0 “No,” agreed Wellington, stroking his chin. “If La Violette’s already shared her knowledge with the French, then we’ll be at a significant disadvantage if she can’t be induced to give it to us too.” xa0 “Why do the French call her that?” inquired the major. “The Spanish call her Violeta, too.” xa0 “It’s the way she works, as I understand it,” Colonel St. Simon said, a sardonic note in his voice. “Or rather, playsxa0…xa0the proverbial shrinking violet. She’s always to be found hiding behind the activities of the large partisan bands. While the French army is concentrating on guerrilla activities, the little violet and her band are flourishing in the background, causing merry mayhem where least expected.” xa0 “And feathering her own nest while she’s about it,” Wellington remarked. “She’s said to have no time for the armies of either side, and while she’ll assist the Spanish partisans, she expects to be paid for her helpxa0…xa0or at least to be put in the way of a little profitable pillage.” xa0 “A mercenary, in other words,” the major said, with a grimace of distaste. xa0 “Precisely. But I gather the French find even less favor with her than our good selves. At least she’s never offered to help the French, for any price.” The commander in chief kicked at a falling log in the hearth. xa0 “Until now,” observed the colonel. “They may be offering her the right price at this moment.” He was a big man, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, with a pair of startling blue eyes beneath bushy red-gold eyebrows. His hair was a thick mane of the same color, an unruly lock flopping over a wide forehead. He carried himself with all the natural authority of a man born to wealth and privilege, a man unaccustomed to questioning the established order of things. A cavalry officer’s pelisse was cast carelessly over his scarlet tunic, a massive curved sword sheathed in a broad studded sword belt at his hip. He surged with a restless energy, seeming too big for the confined space. xa0 “I’ve heard it said, my lord, that the name also comes from La Violette’s appearance,” the aide-de-camp ventured. “I understand she resembles the flower.” xa0 “Good God, man!” The colonel’s scornful laughter pealed through the dingy room. “She’s a ruthless, murdering bandit who, when it suits her whim, chooses for a price to put her dubious services at the partisans’ disposal.” xa0 Discomfited, the aide-de-camp shuffled his feet, but the major said briskly, “No, St. Simon, the man’s right. I’ve heard it said, also. I gather she’s a diminutive creature who looks as if you could blow her away in one puff.” xa0 “Then she’ll not hold out long once Major Cornichet starts his gentle persuasion,” Wellington declared. “He’s a vicious, arrogant brute with a taste for interrogation. There’s no time to lose. Julian, will you take it on?” xa0 “With pleasure. It’ll be a joy to balk Cornichet of his prey.” The colonel was unable to hide his enthusiasm for the task as he clicked his booted feet and his spurs jingled. “And it’ll be most satisfying to put an end to the games of this shrinking violet. She’s played too long, enriching herself at our expense.” A look of distaste crossed the aristocratic features. Julian St. Simon had no time for mercenaries. “I’ll take twenty men.” xa0 “Will that be enough to storm an entire outpost, St. Simon?” the major inquired. xa0 “Oh, I don’t intend to storm it, my friend,” Colonel, Lord St. Simon said, grinning. “Stealth and trickery—a little guerrilla warfare of our own, if you take my meaning.” xa0 “Then go to it, Julian.” Wellington offered his hand. “And bring back this flower so we can pluck her petals ourselves.” xa0 “I’ll have her here in five days, sir.” The colonel left the room, currents of energy seeming to swirl in his wake. xa0 Five days was no idle boast, as the commander in chief was aware. Julian St. Simon, at twenty-eight, had been a career soldier for ten years, and he was known as much for his unorthodox methods as for his invariable success. It was held as a fact of life in the mess that St. Simon never failed at a task he set himself, and his men would follow him into an inferno if he asked it of them. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. From the Inside Flap raordinary pen of Jane Feather, nationally bestselling author of Valentine , comes a bewitching tale of a beautiful bandit who's waging a dangerous game of vengeance--and betting everything on love..."An author to treasure." -- Romantic Times --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. From the extraordinary pen of Jane Feather, nationally bestselling author of "Valentine, comes a bewitching tale of a beautiful bandit who's waging a dangerous game of vengeance--and betting everything on love... "An author to treasure." -- "Romantic Times --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition. Read more