Aric Lakeland dodged
foot-traffic along the boulevard in a crazy attempt to keep up with the
bouncing erratic carriage he followed. The day was intolerably hot and his mood
was no better. He resented this mission. He’d left a cool pub and a cold brew
to sweat beneath the hot sun.
His idea of fun was not
traipsing after a notorious gambler and womanizer. Nor did he want to baby sit
a spoiled debutante.
Yet, he’d promised. A wave
of guilt washed through him.
Sweat beaded on his
forehead, dripping down his face. He swiped it with the back of his hand and
sidestepped, nearly knocking packages from a lady just exiting a dressmaker’s
shop.
“You owe me, my friend. When
this is done, I will collect,” he swore beneath his breath and began thinking
of all the favors he might ask of his half brother.
The carriage he followed
turned a corner and disappeared from sight. He plowed into a lamppost, swore
again and raced through the crowds. Richy Richmond did not deserve this absurd
protection. Richy could deal with his own affairs. The other part of his half
brother’s request bothered Aric. He did not want anything to happen to the lady
he followed. His half brother had reason to believe Richy might do something to
compromise her. His gut instincts had never been wrong. Ravyn Grahm, cousin to
his half brother’s wife, was in serious trouble.
Richy’s carriage came to an
abrupt halt. Richy jumped from the vehicle. His cane in hand, he strode toward
a dress shop Aric had reason to visit on occasion.
Aric watched, fascinated as
the scene unfolded. He started forward but noticed Richy race to protect the
women Aric followed.
“You ruffians! Get your hands off me!” The white-haried Duchess shrieked, her
age-lined face mottled with rage, pushing at two little guttersnipes who seemed
more intent on shoving the elderly woman around than stealing the packages she
carried.
Ravyn swiped her parasol
across a boy’s head and turned to the other, her eyes blazing, shooting violet
blue sparks.
“Stop it!” she cried out,
raising her parasol again and again. “Take that! And that!”
Amused, Aric leaned against
a lamppost similar to the one he had run into earlier in his race to keep
Richy’s carriage in view.
He crossed his arms over his
chest, grinning as he watched Ravyn batter the boys who had had the audacity to
try and harm the Duchess.
He chuckled, prepared to
step in if needed but it appeared the two women had the situation under
control. Ravyn, he mused, the regal, classy lady who seldom had a hair on her
gorgeous head out of place was decidedly disheveled. Her cheeks were flushed,
her hair flowed beautifully from its perfectly coiffed hairdo. Her jacket
sleeve was torn and to his amazement, she grinned as if she were having the time
of her life.
“Go on, get,” Richy stepped
in, shooing the two boys away. He grabbed hold of one of the boy’s arms and
shook him. “Patrol,” he yelled, looking around for help. The boy stomped on
Richy’s foot. Surprised, Richy let go. “Bloody hell! Come back here. Little brat,” he yelled as
the boy ran off.
Aric cocked an eyebrow,
watching and wondering what would happen next, knowing Richy had a card up his
sleeve. He had not forgotten he was supposed to be watching Richy, nor had he
forgotten the man had suffered innumerable losses at the gaming tables and the
racetrack the last few days and he might do something to Ravyn.
Aric pushed away from the
lamppost and strode toward the women and Richy. He watched Richy change
demeanor. Suddenly instead of rescuer, he was attacker. Aric’s heart stopped
for a moment then raced.
Richy wrenched Ravyn against
him, pulling her close, her arm behind her back, his mouth close to her ear as
if he whispered something to Ravyn.
“Let go,” Ravyn cried out,
twisting and thrashing her arms. It seemed to be the opposite scenario as
moments before. The crowds that had previously closed around the women had now
dissipated.
“Let go,” Ravyn cried
again.
“You’re mine, Ravyn,” Richy
said in a low well-modulated voice. “You should have realized it months ago and
I’d have won the wager. But instead, you ignored me. You taunted me and
sometimes you pretended to care while other times you turned up your pert
little nose when I walked by.”
“What do you think you are
doing? Let go of me!” Ravyn cried out, hatred now in her stormy
violet eyes.
To Aric, she sounded
incredulous, perhaps confused. But strangely, not afraid.
“We--“he paused a
moment--“are going to Gretna Green. We are getting married and I will inherit
your estate. You will be mine.”
RELATED BOOKS:
REVIEW:
Title: Allura Genre:
Historical Author: Christine Young
Reviewer: Chrissy Dionne
Reviewer Email: RJChrissyDionne@yahoo.com
Christine Young’s ALLURA is
a delightful historical novel full of suspense, lovable characters, humor and a
budding romance between two characters determined not to fall in love. Allura
and Hunter’s stubborn, determined natures allowed for some interesting scenes
as they attempted to get one up on each other. As a modern day woman I felt bad
for Allura because technically her husband would dictate every aspect of her
life and the freedom she loves would be a thing of the past. Hunter is
unbending as far as to how he believes a wife should behave but falling in love
changes him and his perception of Allura. Hunter and Allura are the main focus
of this story but there are secondary characters whom I absolutely adored and
would love to revisit in future novels (hint, hint). Especially the youngest
sister Aiden and Hunter’s trusted friend Blade. He doesn’t believe in love and
she’s determined to do whatever’s necessary to get him to notice her. SNIPPET—
Allura has come to treasure her freedom and the adventures she shares with her
sisters and her cousins but her father’s decision to find her a husband
threatens that freedom. He’s placed an ad in the times in search of a man
strong and smart enough to discover where exactly it is that the girls venture
when they leave the safety of the castle.
-
BLURB:
Allura McClellan is horrified by her father’s decision to take out an
ad in the Times awarding her to the man strong enough and smart enough to win
her hand and uncover her secrets. She’s an intelligent young woman who
takes great delight in the freedom allotted to her by her father. She’s well
aware that marriage would effectively curtail the adventures she’s shared with
her sisters and cousins.
Hunter Gray is nothing like the other men who’ve arrived to vie for
Allura’s hand in marriage and everything that goes along with it. However, he
is the first to refuse to concede defeat and pursue her despite her attempts to
disguise her true appearance. It’s her temperament that is of more concern to
him than her looks. Hunter has worked all his life with the hope of someday
owning his own land. Now that it looks like there’s a very real possibility
that everything he’s ever wanted is within reach nothing is going to deter him
– including Miss Allura’s disagreeable disposition.
Amorica Hepburn was sent to London to find a husband. However, finding
a man was the last item on her agenda. With her two cousins, Amorica wagers she
can dissuade her suitor before the others. Despite her efforts she discovers a
chemistry that cannot be denied. Suddenly she is the arrogant man's wife,
pledged to a marriage neither desire. But swept off to his ancestral home above
the Dover cliffs and into his strong embrace, Amorica is soon possessed by a
raging passion for the husband she had vowed to despise…
Damian Andrews couldn't afford to trust the emerald-eyed spitfire who
happened upon his secret. Amorica's hatred of all men of his kind only inflames
the war that rages between them. Still, he can not control the intense desire
his stubborn bride inspires, or make her surrender to his will until he has
conquered the headstrong beauty on the battlefield of love…
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