All rights reserved. This book is dedicated with appreciation to Jennifer Sawyer Fisher, editor extraordinaire. And to romance readers everywhere, because they read for pleasure. Every novel deserves to be closed with a smile. CHAPTER 1 August 1101 With the rhythm of a tolling bell, men pounded s...
She could have sent them out with Lovell, but she would not sit at home waiting, waiting, waiting. She was apparently to be left to manage for herself. This was what she’d wanted, she reminded herself—to be independent, and especially not to be dependent on any man, especially a husband, for anyt...
Even if she did decide to return to London, she couldn’t face it today. She soon convinced herself that Captain Rose had proved not to be truly dreadful, and it would be only sensible to stay and talk to the man when he wasn’t in his cups. That talk, however, would take place in a safer spot than...
(Lord Dracy, a scarred ex-naval officer, has just won a race between his mare Cartagena and the Earl of Hernescroft’s Fancy Free. As winner, he gets both horses, but he wants one of the earl’s stallions instead.) “Come in, Dracy, come in,” said the earl. “Claret, brandy, port?” “Claret, thank you...
She looked over the banisters and saw a cloaked man enter."Good day, John. My cousin at home?""Yes, sir. In the library."The visitor shed his cloak and other outer clothing. "A fire in the hall? What's the world coming to?""Changes, sir," John said, but to the visitor's back. He was striding with...
Two-faced. Sweet in company, acid in private. But no, that wasn’t quite fair. Artemis had never been sweet, and she was the sort of lady who would never create a disturbance in front of servants. She probably believed everything she’d said about Cate. She was wrong, however. Wrong. Cate could nev...
Her round face tended to red anyway, and in the steam was puce, but her eyes lit. “Susan, love, how nice to see you. Give me a moment, and we’ll have a cup of tea.” “I need to speak to David first, aunt.” The warmth of her aunt’s smile was easing he...
This corner of Suffolk was fairly hilly but Dymons Hill was an abrupt mound of chalk, and she could quite see how it would seize the local imagination. It told her nothing about Meggie Brewstock’s death, however. On impulse, she tethered the donkey to a tree and picked her way across the rough sh...
Perhaps it was helped by the awareness of other people in the house, though the kitchens had always been an oasis of sanity. She and Amelia were sitting at the big table along with the other servants. With all the betters engaged in business, there would be no need of th...