The Governess Affair

unless—
    Some decisions were not difficult at all. “Hit me,” he said urgently, low enough that the other boys couldn’t hear. “Hit me hard. Knock me down.”
    Marshall didn’t even hesitate. He stepped forward and smashed his fist against Robert’s nose. Robert didn’t need to pretend to fall; his legs crumpled of their own accord. When he picked himself off the ground, his nose was running red. He swiped the blood away and pushed himself to his feet.
    “Did you really not know?” Marshall asked him.
    He’d hit with his left hand.
    “Can you hit harder with your right?” Robert asked.
    Marshall’s chin went up. “I can hit hard enough with both.”
    “Because I’m left-handed, too. You’ve just knocked me down, and I’ve acknowledged it. They shouldn’t bother you anymore. Not after that.” He was babbling. He gingerly extended his hand—his left hand. “Pax?”
    The other boy stared at him for a moment. Then, finally, he extended his own left hand. “Pax,” he agreed. “But you break the peace, and I’ll break you.”
    “Well,” Sebastian said, coming up from behind them. “This is going to be interesting.”

Thank you!
    Thanks for reading The Governess Affair . I hope you enjoyed it!
    Did you know you can lend this book? Please consider sharing it with a friend.
    The Governess Affair is a prequel to The Brothers Sinister Series. Find out what’s next, or sign up for my new release mailing list at http://www.courtneymilan.com . You can also turn the page to get a sneak peak at the next book in the series, The Duchess War, and to read an excerpt from Courtney’s last book, Unraveled .

Sneak Peek: The Duchess War
    Robert Blaisdell, the ninth Duke of Clermont, has a plan to make up for his father’s wrongs. But his scheme is poised to expose the secrets that Miss Minerva Lane has been hiding for years. When neither of them will back down, of course you realize…
    …This means love.
    Read the full first scene at http://www.courtneymilan.com/theduchesswar.php .

Unraveled (excerpt)
    This is a teaser from near the beginning of Unraveled, in which our hero, Magistrate Smite Turner, has an appointment to meet Miss Miranda Darling outside his place of work…
    Ah. Here was the reason Magistrate Turner wasn’t standing on the stairs.
    He had squeezed in that small gap between the buildings. His face was set in grim concentration, as if he were listening to a prisoner’s speech. But he was sitting in judgment over a pair of cats—one small and orange, the other large and white.
    One meowed again, and he broke off a piece from what appeared to be a meat pie, and tossed it to them.
    He was dressed in sand-colored wool. Up until now, she’d only seen him in dark colors—black robes, navy jackets. The light color of his coat made his hair seem all the blacker. It brought out a warmth in his skin that she’d not seen before.
    And when he looked up from the cats and met her gaze, she realized for the first time how intensely blue his eyes were—emphasis on intense . He seemed to see straight through her, right through her threadbare cloak and her nondescript dress, through her flesh, straight into her heart. That unruly organ thumped heavily in her chest.
    She raised her hand to give him an awkward wave. Her pulse beat, and an unexpected thrill ran through her at the sight of him. The sensation spilled through her body in little shocks, like a harpist strumming out an arpeggio against her ribs.
    Oh, drat. She was attracted to him.
    “Magistrate Turner,” she said.
    His eyes narrowed. “Turner,” he corrected her.
    “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
    “You called me Magistrate.” His nostrils flared. “Magistrates decide cases and issue warrants for arrests. They don’t go on walks with intriguing women, no matter what the destination might be. I must make it clear that I’m helping you in my private capacity. If you call me Magistrate Turner again, I’ll turn around and walk away.”
    He made it sound so grim, the prospect of taking a walk with her. It took her a moment to hear that word— intriguing . But he wasn’t smiling at her. That couldn’t be an attempt at flirtation, could it?
    Miranda shook her head slowly. “Good heavens. That’s quite an act you put on.”
    He drew himself up haughtily. “I beg your pardon.”
    “An act,” Miranda repeated. “Stand as tall as you like, and frown at me all you wish. I saw you just now. You were feeding cats.”
    “So