Art and Artifice (The Lady Emily Capers #2)
Regina Scott

Here’s what others are saying about a previous version of the story:
“A charming, expertly crafted traditional Regency romance.”—The Chicago Tribune
“I really just cannot get over how good this book is! I urge you all to scurry to your closest book provider and pick up a copy as it is . . . AMAZING!!!” Awarded the site’s Gold Star for Excellence and a place in the Hall of Fame!--Teens Read Too
“I loved the mystery and romance in this novel! I was hooked from the first page to the last, and the best part was, this book was not overly obvious, so I was right there with Emily and her friends as they tried to solve the mystery surrounding Lord Robert!” Awarded 9.92 out of 10—The Book Vault
Excerpt:
“Who are you?” Emily demanded, striding into the room. “What are you doing here?”
He offered her a bow, cap squashed in one hand. “Good evening, Lady Emily.”
He knew her name? She was certain she’d never met him before. She’d have remembered those broad shoulders, that confident air. His hair was the color of the sunset on a stormy day -- red and gold and brown blending in wild disarray, and his eyes were the gray of the storm. But his smile, well, his smile was positively wicked.
“Answer the question, if you please,” Emily said, forcing her mind to the moment. “What are you doing in my home? Who let you in?”
He shrugged, a ripple of muscle under his brown coat. “Your footmen are far too busy to attend to me.”
Emily gasped. “You sneaked in! Thief!” Small wonder she hadn’t recognized him. She did not make a habit of associating with thieves. Nor did she fear them. One shout, one cry, and a small army would attend her.
“Oh, there are thieves in London, all right,” he agreed, as if singularly unconcerned about capture. He waved a hand to encompass the room. “You’d better watch out, or you’ll lose one of these fine paintings.”
What fine paintings? His Grace had any number of wonderful pieces from ages past, as well as some truly horrid portraits of their ancestors. She wasn’t sure which he had ordered brought to London to decorate the townhouse.
But as she looked around the room, she recognized each painting as hers. The Battle of Salamanca hung over the fire, The Battle of Hastings was against the far wall, and The Battle of the Nile was to her right. It had been one of her first, when she hadn’t quite mastered perspective. The British and French ships were all jumbled. He could not be much of a thief if he thought it fine art.
So who exactly was he?