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Title: A Gentlemen's
Agreement
Author: Sheila M. Sharpless
ISBN: 978-1-62420-319-0
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 2
REVIEW:
A Gentleman’s Agreement
Sheila M. Sharpless
Reviewed by
Tamara White
4 stars
A Gentleman’s Agreement is a
period piece that takes the reader back to a time when a gentleman’s word was
just as strong as a contract. Sharpless does an excellent job of capturing the
essence of the Elizabethan period. The reader is quickly drawn into the
affluent world where lavish estates, grand balls reign supreme and the title
before a person’s name means everything. Sharpless captures how complicated the
realities of marriage are when they involve more than love. Charlotte is a
woman whose heart doesn’t necessarily want what is expected of her. Along with
Charlotte there is the Marquis, the man who is not only the lynch pin in this
beautifully crafted story, but a man who possess his own drama filled secrets.
A Gentleman’s Agreement creatively walks the reader though the high society
antics of the privileged born.
TAGLINE
A Gentlemen's Agreement depicts a love story
at the time of the Regency about an aristocratic family and the trials with
which they are faced.
BLURB
The Marquis and Marchioness are aristocrats
living in a magnificent Elizabethan manor, Karidan, with their two daughters,
Cassandra and Charlotte. On the surface, the family is wealthy
and well respected, but the double life of the Marquis reveals illegal and
dangerous activities, although at heart he is a good Christian man. Charlotte
is to be wed to the local widowed vicar, but her affections lie elsewhere,
namely with the Lord of the adjacent estate who, owing to a long-standing feud,
is not welcome at Karidan and harbours his own secrets. Will Charlotte give in
to her passions or follow the path her parents have chosen for her?
EXCERPT
The moon was full that night, shedding its light on
the ripples of the tide, as it covered the fine sand in the cove; a beautiful
sight, to lovers a backdrop to a romantic evening; to the artist an invitation
to capture on canvas that magnificent prospect. Perhaps, for some, it was
simply a pleasurable experience. But there are those who shy away from such
beauty, preferring to go about their business in the dark.
For the solitary figure standing on the shore, it
was everything he did not enjoy, so, as he turned to view Karidan, the
wonderful Elizabethan manor house behind him, set in magnificent parklands, and
saw every window ablaze with candle light, he cursed under his breath. He knew
the extravagance of so many candles meant the Marquis was hosting another
party, perhaps a ball with champagne flowing, beautiful, assured ladies in
gowns which would, for some, cost the equivalent of six months' food. He smiled
to himself. Little did they know.
But, he caught his breath. For all his envy, he
knew the Marquis was good to him, always gave him his due, and sometimes more
for his wife and children.
Yet, for all that, he knew that it was people like
the Marquis and the Marchioness who were the reason why his life was haunted by
shadows, why sometimes the vision of the gallows filled his dreams.
Standing alone, Cooper began to think of what he
knew of the history surrounding this place. Built during the reign of Henry
VIII while he was still married to the tragic Jane Seymour and intended to be
the later home of his heir, it was a beautiful building where nothing had been
spared. The walls, the windows, the altar in the chapel on the ground floor
were all a miracle of workmanship, lined and fluted in gold. The rooms were
spacious, light and there were many. Twenty-four bedrooms, seven sitting rooms,
the kitchen in the basement of the building was apparently the largest ever
designed with the big fireplace holding a spit big enough to cook a whole ox or
deer.
It was said, although he doubted it, that during
Elizabeth I's reign, she visited Karidan with her entire household when it was
sensible to be away from her home for a while, but finding a very poor deer
population, she moved to Berkeley Castle where she knew there were many deer.
Before she left Karidan she told the Lord that she would send him a number of
deer and because she had been so comfortably housed, she would increase his
title from Lord of Karidan to the Marquis of Karidan, and the present Marquis
was a descendent of this long aristocratic line.
During her stay at the castle, history books tell
us, she used her first skill with bow and arrow and, to the horror of the Lord
of the castle, she shot thirty-six of his prize deer.
Shaking his head, Cooper returned to the present
and banned those thoughts. What did ancestry mean to him anyway?
If he could see inside that house, however, he
would indeed be greeted by music, dancers, the well-bred conversation between
men and women, the light laughter, characteristic of the young ladies enjoying
themselves at their first ball. Among those young ladies were the two daughters
of the house and several of their close friends, feeling alternately grown up,
sophisticated or overwhelmed, shy. The Lady Cassandra now seventeen, and her
sister the Lady Charlotte nearing her sixteenth birthday, were the daughters of
the Marquis and the Marchioness, while the Lord Augustus of Sharpfield, a cousin
of the Marquis, held sway among friends, the other side of the ballroom. The
other young ladies similarly aristocratic, showed little sign of wonder but
were obviously enjoying the party, which this time was celebrating Cassandra
and Charlotte's Aunt's fiftieth birthday. She was almost a permanent visitor,
although she had her own mansion and staff some fifty miles away. She loved her
time at Karidan, enjoyed the company, but, although she would never say it
within hearing at her home, the Marchioness's cook was infinitely preferable to
her own. She looked now at her two beloved nieces, seeing two beautiful young
women, smiling and talking animatedly to their friends. She knew the girls'
gowns, as had their mother's, been made by Madame Frederica, a French
seamstress, who had created many beautiful gowns for the Marchioness and her
friends. The young ladies, of course, had all been presented at Court, welcomed
by the Prince who definitely approved of pretty young ladies. Not for nothing
had he been called The Prince of Pleasure. Her two young nieces had their dance
cards, beautifully engraved, hanging from their wrists and were excited but shy
as the young men came to claim their dance.
They had each danced before sitting down at their
chosen table, when Lady Charlotte nudged her sister, saying, "Who is that
lovely young gentleman talking to Augustus? I've never seen him before."
"Well," replied the Lady Cassandra,
"I'm surprised you have not met him. His parents own 'Birkham Manor' not
far from here. He is Lord Dominic of Birkham. I believe he has been touring
Europe after leaving Cambridge, but he has been home for a few weeks I
think."
"I wonder what he has been doing with himself.
I am sure we should have seen him before this."
Cassandra went on to say that as far as she knew
no-one had mentioned him, although maybe her parents knew him because he was
here at Karidan at the ball for dear Aunt Agatha. Cassandra remembered that she
had heard of his beautiful horse, a black stallion which was, apparently, the
envy of all who knew of him.
"Perhaps Papa or Mama knows the family. I'd
like to meet him, wouldn't you?" Charlotte asked.
"Yes, I think we'll find out a little
more."
It was while these two young ladies were wondering
about him that Dominic began his own story to Augustus and Charles. He was
laughing as he said, "I had been looking forward to spending three years
at Cambridge. Good company, plenty of fun and opportunities. I was not wrong.
There were of course obligatory essays and papers, but the tutors were
terrific. More like friends than anything. Like us they enjoyed some fun and a
drink or two. Quite frankly they were nearer our age than one could have
expected. There were rules of course, but only those which kept the College on
an even keel. It was suggested that I should take up fencing and I believed
that to be a good idea. I had not tried anything like it before, but it really
appealed to me; developing muscles I didn't know I had."
Charles interrupted. "I tried that once but I
was absolutely useless; no sense of balance. Naturally, I gave it up as a bad
job."
"Bad luck, but you should have kept going, it
was good fun. Anyway, I was introduced to the professional and he was happy to
tell me a bit about the history of the sport and suggested I came to the
exercise class the next morning. So, interested but a little perturbed as to
what I had let myself in for, I met the like-minded fellows, a pleasant group
of men. Firstly, I was given a rope and was told to skip for ten minutes
without stopping. That was taxing to start with, but when I managed to get my
breath back, I found I had enjoyed it. It gave me a sense of achievement.
Despite the effort, I was looking forward to doing it again. The next session,
I was told, would be an introduction to how one handles the foil. I felt
confident that I could master that. It seemed easy enough. And I really enjoyed
the exercise. I knew then that taking up fencing was a good thing. It was great
fun and after our strenuous exercises, it was down to the bar for a well-earned
beer."
"Well I was wondering when the beer came
in."
"Ha, you would, Augustus. I was feeling quite
content with my new life in Cambridge. It was amazing how my interest in
fencing grew until I was giving up several seminars a week to attend practice
and much to my surprise, I was getting quite skilled and becoming stronger and
fitter.Although I never imagined I would progress to professional fencing, it
gave me more than I had expected including self-confidence and simply an
enjoyment of using my body in a way I had never done before and pitting my
strength and skill against an opponent.
"But," Dominic continued, "I haven't
mentioned Claire. A rather delightful young lady who had taken my eye. She had
two excellent character traits. One a great sense of humour and the other
enjoyment of any new activity. Her full name was the Right Honourable Lady
Claire Phlemorton-Bragg. She told me that her father had just bought her a
beautiful Palomino stallion. She had not had the chance to ride him yet but
suggested we take a ride together. Happily, I agreed and so it was, a few days
later we set off on a cross-country ride. Her horse was very frisky, but she
handled him well but unfortunately, at the third jump he refused, throwing his
rider into a muddy puddle. She swore that it was my fault and when she saw me
laughing at her, she was not at all pleased and that, my friends, was the end
of the romance."
1 comment:
Welcome to my blog. I hope you have a great tour.
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