This week’s excerpt is one of the murder attempts in my current novel, which is book 3 in A Twist in a Regency Tale. Working title is Snowy and the Seven Blossoms.

His valet must have arrived while he was in the bath, for the man had set up clean clothes and Snowy’s shaving tackle in the room where he had slept.

“I will not finish getting dressed until I have seen to washing my brother and helping him dress,” Snowy said. “But let’s start with my shave.”

“If you will allow me to do it, sir,” the valet said. “I see you have been missing some bits.”

Snowy leaned close to the mirror to check his reflection, and sure enough, the usual morning stubble was thicker in a couple of places he must’ve missed during yesterday’s shave. Even so, he’d never allowed anyone else to get near him with a cutthroat razor, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Thank you. I will do it but I will take more care. You just take the clothes I want to wear through to my brother’s room next door and let him know I will be there shortly.”

The man’s sour expression deepened but he did as he was told. Snowy was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was going to be a viscount. If a valet went with the position he was going to have to find one who suited him better.

Someone who could manage a bit of cheer. Someone who could serve without looking down his long nose at the very man who paid his wages.

Satisfied he was as smooth as he was going to get, he went through to Ned, who was sitting up in the bed. “How are you this morning, brother?”

“Weak as a kitten,” Ned responded, cheerfully.

“Ready to get cleaned up for a bit of an outing?” Snowy asked.

“Perhaps sir would like to change into a shirt first?” said the valet. “It is less bulky than the banyan, and one can roll up the sleeves, thereby suffering less damage.”

Snowy decided to ignore the sneer, since the advice was good. He shrugged out of the banyan and bent to allow the valet to fit the shirt over his head. As he felt it settle over his shoulders, the valet suddenly yanked it down so it trapped his arms at his sides. He tried to turn even as he felt a cord tighten around his neck.

Even as he struggled, he heard a thud and the constriction was gone. He turned, stumbling a little as he did, for the valet lay at his feet, the marble paperweight that had felled him a yard or so away.

“Are you all right, Hal?” Ned asked. He was sitting upright, his face white around the bruises.

“Good shot,” Snowy said. He bent to check the valet’s pulse. The man was still alive, but out cold, with a rising lump on the back of his head.

“Good thing I didn’t break my bowling arm,” Ned responded. “Hal, he was going to kill you, with me right here in the room.”

“He failed,” Snowy reminded his brother. “Thanks to you.”