Marriage Made In Rebellion
He prayed this might never stop. This – now – here in Spain, with Alejandra in his arms.Severely wounded Captain Lucien Howard, Earl of Ross, has a boat waiting to take him home. If she remains in his company the beautiful woman who saved his life will be compromised. The harsh light of dawn will send each of them their different ways.Lucien thinks of his family and his ancient crumbling estate. He can’t stay in war-torn Spain. Yet neither can he stop his arms from tightening about Alejandra as he breathes her in…The Penniless LordsIn want of a wealthy wife
Читать Marriage Made In Rebellion онлайн беплатно
The Penniless Lords
In want of a wealthy wife
Meet Daniel, Gabriel, Lucien and Francis Four lords, each down on his fortune and each in need of a wife of means.
From such beginnings, can these marriages of convenience turn into something more treasured than money?
Donât miss this enthralling new quartet by Sophia James
Read Daniel, Gabriel, Lucien and Francisâs stories in
Marriage Made in Money Already available
Marriage Made in Shame Already available
Marriage Made in Rebellion Out now
Marriage Made in Hope Coming soon
She tasted like hope and home.
And of something else entirely.
Tristesse.
The French word for sadness came from nowhere, bathed in its own truth, but it was too soon to pay good mind to it and too late to want it different.
âOnly now, Lucien,â she whispered. âI know it is all that each of us can promise, but it is enough.â
SOPHIA JAMES lives in Chelsea Bay, on Auckland, New Zealandâs North Shore, with her husband, who is an artist. She has a degree in English and History from Auckland University and believes her love of writing was formed by reading Georgette Heyer in the holidays at her grandmotherâs house. Sophia enjoys getting feedback at sophiajames.co.
Marriage Made in Rebellion is the third story in my The Penniless Lords series.
Lucien Howard, the Earl of Ross, is a soldier, a fighter, a spy and a gifted linguist.
Alejandra Fernandez y Santo Domingo is the only daughter of a powerful Spanish guerrilla leader whose family has been decimated by the conflict.
They come together on the battlefields after Corunna in this dark and dangerous story of high-stakes warfare in a country that has been split apart by politics. It is also about a great love that conquers all.
Francis St Cartmail is next. When Lady Sephora Connaught falls from a bridge into the deep and fast-running Thames everything in her world changes.
The stranger who dives in to rescue her, the Earl of Douglas, is known as the black sheep of the ton and is a man of questionable reputation. Yet only with him does she finally feel safe.
I love feedback, and you can find me at sophiajames.co.
Contents
The English declare they will no longer respect neutrals on the sea; I will no longer recognise them on land.
Napoleon Bonaparte
A Coruña, SpainâJanuary 16th, 1809
Captain Lucien Howard, the Earl of Ross, thought his nose was broken. His neck, too, probably, because he couldnât move it at all. His horse lay upon him, her head bent sideways and liquid-brown eyes empty of life. A good mare she was, one that had brought him up the hard road from Lisboa through the snows of the Cantabrian Mountains and the slippery passways of mud and sleet. He swore silently and looked away.
It hurt to breathe, a worrying thought that, given the distance from any medical help. Another day and Napoleon and his generals would be all over the harbour. It was finished and the British had lost, the harsh winter eating into what was left of resistance and a mix-up with the ocean transports in from the southern port of Vigo.
God, if he wasnât so badly hurt, he might have laughed, but the movement would have most likely killed him. It was so damn cold, his breath fogging as he fought for what little air he could drag in, but a mist had come up from the sea to mingle with the smoke of battle hanging thick across the valley.
Lucien was not afraid of death. It was the dying that worried him, the length and the breadth of it and the helplessness.
Lying back, he looked up into the heavens, hoping that it would be quick. He couldnât pray; that sort of hope was long since past and had been for a while now. He could not even find the words to ask for forgiveness or penance. He had killed men, good and bad, in the name of king and country, but once one saw the whites of an enemyâs eyes, the old troths and promises held less sway than they once had.
A man was a man whatever language he spoke and more often than not a family would be waiting at home for their return. As his was. That thought sent a shaft of pain through the greater ache, but, resolving not to die with tears in his eyes, Lucien willed it away.
It was late, that much he did know, the sun deep on the horizon and only a little left of the day. He could see the lights of resin torches further away along the lines of the olive trees and the aloe hedges, searching for those who still lived. He could not summon the strength to call out as he lay there, a rough stone wall to one side and an old garden of sorts on the other.
Lucien imagined he could smell orange blossoms and wild flowers, but that was surely wrong. He wondered about the warmth that he felt as the peace of a contrition he long since should have made came unexpectedly.
