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He had achieved success others could only dream about, and they envied him.
Was that why Ambrose Kerr held people at arm’s length? Emilie had assumed that he would never want her, because she was so young and naive.
But then she discovered the reason Ambrose was so wary—he hid an incredible secret. The truth only made Emilie want Ambrose more, but it was also dynamite!
If others got to know the real story, the newfound happiness of Emilie and Ambrose would explode…
Dear Reader,
The Seven Deadly Sins are those sins that most of us are in danger of committing every day: very ordinary failings, very human weaknesses, which can sometimes cause pain to both ourselves and others. Over the ages they have been defined as Anger, Covetousness, Envy, Greed, Pride, Lust and Sloth.
In this book I deal with the sin of Envy. We all dream about having lots of money, or being beautiful, or blissfully happy with a man we love, and it is natural to envy someone else who seems to have what we only dream about. Envy can poison life, though, if it isn’t kept under control. It could even lead to tragedy.
Charlotte Lamb
This is the third story in Charlotte Lamb’s gripping seven-part series, SINS. Watch out from now until December for another SINS story every month.
Coming next month: Wild Hunger…the sin of Greed. Have you ever had too much of a good thing?
Haunted Dreams
Charlotte Lamb
‘LET’S get married, Em!’
‘Sholto!’
The soft gasp was incredulous, more horrified than delighted. The man eavesdropping couldn’t help smiling, although he had been irritated when he heard the other two walk in here. They had no idea he was there, of course. The room was shadowy, just one lamp lit on a small low table behind him. He had a headache threatening; light made it worse, as did the constant babble of voices, the throb of music, in the party going on outside. That was why he had retreated into this room, which was his study. As the host he ought to be out there, talking to people.
Moving warily a fraction, he could see the intruders in a mirror on the wall above him.
They still hadn’t noticed him; he had his back to them and was hidden by the deep leather armchair he sat in, for one thing, and, for another, they were far too absorbed in themselves.
He could only see the boy in profile, but the girl was facing him; he saw the dim light glimmering on sleek brown hair, on a string of pearls around a pale, slender throat, on wide, startled blue eyes.
‘I’m serious! I’m crazy about you, you know I am—oh, come on, Em, say yes!’ The boy was excited, a little drunk, his voice furry, thickened. ‘We can get engaged tonight…Announce it here, tell everyone…That would make them all sit up!’
He had shifted, coming full-face. Their audience realised then that this was no boy. He recognised him—he should have picked up on the name at once; it was hardly a common one. Sholto Cory must be in his twenties, surely? Much older than the girl with him, anyway. Blond hair, blue eyes, a fresh complexion, he was attractive and lively, and led a busy social life. The youngest son of a Scottish family with land, but not much money, he was lucky enough to have brains. He had gone into banking and was doing well, but there was a question mark against him in the mind of the man watching him. Was Sholto tough enough to claw his way to the top?
The watcher’s narrowed grey eyes moved to assess the girl again. He was sure he had never seen her before. Small, slender, with a fall of straight dark brown hair, well-brushed and shining, a cool oval face, and big, blue, dreamy-looking eyes with incredibly long dark lashes, she wasn’t pretty, certainly not beautiful, and wore very little make-up, compared with some of the other female guests tonight. From the look of her, she had only just left school. Pale pink lipstick on her mouth, a dusting of powder on her small nose…Those lashes were real, and she wore no eyeshadow.
It surprised him that Sholto Cory should have fallen for a girl like this—he would have expected Sholto to go for something more obvious, a glitzy type. Sholto must have better taste than he had ever suspected.
But the girl had a sort of radiance; her nature shone in her face, in her gentle blue eyes, the sweet curve of her mouth. Her party dress was a pansy-blue silk, demure, almost old-fashioned, but it suited her perfectly, and the cut made him suspect it had been designed for her
