Happy New Year, everyone! Here's the second blog post introducing the hero and heroine of Trusting Miss Trentham.

As you learned in the previous post, Letitia Trentham is an heiress who has the ability to hear when people lie. Now it's time to learn a little bit about Icarus Reid, the hero...

Mr. Reid gave her a long, frowning stare and then said abruptly, “You have a reputation for being able to distinguish truth from lies.”

Letty tried not to stiffen. “Some people believe I can.” She said it with a smile of amusement, as if she thought it a joke.

Mr. Reid didn’t return the smile. “Can you?”

It wasn’t the first time Letty had been asked this question. She’d learned to turn it aside with a jest, with a lie. But something about Mr. Reid made that impossible. His eyes were intent on her face. They were an extremely pale shade of gray, almost silver. She had an odd sense that his gaze was razor-sharp, penetrating skin and bone. Her awareness of him became even stronger—his tension, his exhaustion. There is something very wrong with this man.

“Sometimes,” Letty said, and heard a clang in her ears at the lie. “Sit down, Mr. Reid. Tell me what it is you wish to know the truth of.”

Reid hesitated, and then pulled one of the gilded chairs out of line and sat at an angle to her. He moved like a soldier—precise, controlled movements with no graceful flourishes.

Once seated, he was silent for several seconds, then spoke tersely: “There are two men here in London—I served with them in Portugal—one of them passed information to the French.”

Letty blinked, hearing the truth in his words.

“I’ve spoken with them, and they both say they didn’t, but someone did, and they were the only ones who knew other than the general and myself. The general didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell anyone. One of these two men lied, and I can’t tell which one. Would you be able to?”

Letty released her breath slowly and sat back in her chair. “Perhaps.” Clang. “If one of these men is a traitor, what will you do?”

“I don’t know.”

Clang.

“That, Mr. Reid, is a lie.”

Hope flared in his silver eyes, flared on his gaunt face. He leaned forward. “You can tell.”

“What will you do to him?” Letty repeated.

“Probably kill him.” This time, Reid spoke the truth.

Tiny hairs pricked up on the back of Letty’s neck. She glanced at the footman, stationed at the refreshment table, and back at Reid. Common sense urged her to push to her feet and walk from him as quickly as she could—run, if she had to. This man was dangerous.

So, there you have it, a glimpse of the hero through the heroine's eyes.

Happy New Year everyone!

[Image courtesy of the Rijksmuseum public domain collection.]