About this book
The Earl of Clyst survived Waterloo. He did not survive May.
Augustus Warene has been dozing through grief for thirteen months when a collapsed cesspit dumps a half-drowned night-soil shoveler in his arms. The lad turns out to be a young woman with a saucy mouth and no surname. May offers recompense in the only currency she possesses. Augustus has the audacity to wash her hair instead.
The earl isn't just a noble — he's noble. He buys her silk and refuses, honorably and repeatedly, every increasingly inventive attempt she makes to spread her ledger before him. So May stages a near-drowning.
Augustus yields in a hedge maze, slowly, with a patience she had not budgeted for.
When the earl's restraint finally snaps, he rides back from London with a special license and the family ring, ready to ravish his future countess in a sheer nightgown, against a bedroom door, and as thoroughly as a foundling has ever been spoiled.
She fell into a cesspit. He fell much harder.
Ravishing the Cesspit Countess is a gloriously mucky, wildly romantic, high-heat Regency short of 11,000 words featuring one washed-up widower, a cunning cesspit girl, indecent applications of soap, multiple acts of recompense, and a sweet happily ever after.
