Thursday, February 19, 2015

What I learned this week.

This past week was a mixed bag of national pride and "What, another winter storm?" 
I live in Canada, and on the 15th of February we celebrate Flag Day. And the second Monday is, for most provinces, Family Day. Well, except the province in which I live. It's called, "Family Shovel out the Driveway" Day.
Just kidding. I love my country. I chose to become a Canadian citizen at age 18 and I served in the Army. I love that I live near where the man who designed the Canadian flag lived. 
But the harsh realities of winter have really knocked me back onto my snowpant-covered posterior. It's hard to love winter with all its pretty white snow when the door you'd opened to let the dog out has pressed its design against a seven foot drift and the snow is over 5 feet all the way to the end of the drive. 


But I recently came into contact with a man who hates our country. He's living in a drafty home that he struggles to keep heated, and thinks his country doesn't care. Now, he may be one of those who complain about everything, anyway, (we all know that type) but he also tests my personal faith. 
In everything I am to pray. So I prayed for him. And I prayed for my own struggles against disliking winter. I won't ever leave my country. My brother lives Down Under, and he loves his country. But we both know neither country is perfect. There isn't a perfect one, but I do know that I am to be joyful in all circumstances, even like today as I clean out the cement-like snow at the end of the driveway. 
Being joyful isn't being happy. It's experiencing the love of Christ. Rick Warren says it well:

 
Joy is the settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be all right, and the determined choice to praise God in every situation.

 Meeting that negative man and meeting winter head-on should not take away my joy, it should force me to seek it all the more. I will continue to pray for both of us and I will continue to pray for my country, and that the peace of Christ comes to all nations, mine and yours.


Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Cover Reveal: Family of Her Dreams

Keli Gwyn here to share the cover of my first Love Inspired Historical, Family of Her Dreams, a June 2015 release.

The arrival of a cover is a high point for an author. That image will represent the story to our readers. As such, it's quite important.

I came across a pin on Pinterest recently that poked fun at the old adage: "judge a book by its cover."

Click photo to go to image source.
The books in the photo are wrapped in brown paper, given a brief description and tied with string.

There's an element of mystery, sure, but I wouldn't be drawn to book displayed that way. Would you?

A cover not only draws me in. It tells me what kind of story to expect.

When someone sees the cover of a Love Inspired Historical, they expect a romantic tale that takes place in days gone by. The darker Love Inspired Suspense covers hint at action-packed adventures with lives in jeopardy, daring escapes and couples besting the bad guys. The contemporary Love Inspired covers promise sweet romances of today.

A good cover is as inviting as a front door swung wide open, inviting readers to step into a story world where they'll spend several satisfying hours.

Love Inspired's covers are some of the best in the business. When I saw the cover their design team created for Family of Her Dreams, I squealed with delight. Did they do a great job, or what?


Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited 
Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited
® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
or its affiliated companies, used under license

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Spotting That New Release


  • Hi Everyone,

I was so excited to see my newest release, A DAUGHTER'S RETURN, in my local Wal-mart along with the other LIH's that came out this month! I think that's as exciting as receiving the first copies of my book. I'll be looking at the other two Wal-marts I sometimes go to this week to see if they are on the selves there, too. And I'd love to know if you've seen it in your area.

This story was special to me because we've known about Rebecca since the beginning, and wondered what happened to her. Even after she was found, we didn't know everything and this is a new beginning for her.

I love writing the Bordinghouse Betrothal series for LIH! And I so enjoy doing research for them. I just turned in the next story in this series (no title just yet) but it will be a November release. I was thrilled to write Christmas into it and much of my research revolved around Macy's. I loved finding out that they were doing their Christmas windows long before my story which takes place in 1897. They had a Santa Clause in their store before then, too. And they were very good to their employees. One of them, Emily, lives at Heaton House and I think she may have to have her own story one of these days.  Do you think a window dresser would be an interesting occupation? I'd love to hear your thoughts and suggestions for occupations you'd like to see represented in this series!

Until next time,
Janet Lee Barton

Monday, February 16, 2015

Craftie Ladies - Love Inspired Historical February 2015 Releases


Listed below are the upcoming releases from our talented Love Inspired Historical writers here at Craftie Ladies of Romance.  To purchase any of these wonderful books, just click on the book covers.  And to learn more about the authors, click on their names.


A DAUGHTER’S RETURN
  
Finding her way home
Having fled her privileged upbringing for a failed romance, Rebecca Heaton knows her pride has kept her from returning home. Now at her mother's boardinghouse in New York City, she's determined to forge a new life for herself--and her daughter. She just never expects to find a new love in the process… 

Ben Roth has always been compelled to help the downtrodden—including single moms like Rebecca. But if the past has taught him one thing it's that offering his trust can lead to disappointment. Could these two wounded souls make one another whole…and come together as a forever family?

Boardinghouse Betrothals: Hearts taking shelter—and forging new beginnings


SHELTERED BY THE WARRIOR
By BARBARA PHINNEY

Her unexpected guardian

Baron Stephen de Bretonne's sworn duty is to serve the king—and that means finding the Saxons plotting against the throne by any means necessary. Protecting a Saxon woman and her half-Norman child? Merely a means to that end. 

But the lovely Rowena proves to be more than just a pawn in his plan. And his admiration for her could ruin everything if he can't stifle his feelings.

While Rowena must begrudgingly accept Norman protection for herself and her baby, she knows better than to trust any man. Yet in the face of danger, can she also open her heart to her unlikely protector?

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Craftie Ladies - Love Inspired Historical February 2015 Releases

The Engagement Bargain
by Sherri Shackelford
Make-believe betrothal 

Rock-solid and reliable, confirmed bachelor Caleb McCoy thought nothing could rattle him—until he discovers he needs to pose as Anna Bishop's intended groom. After saving her life, his honorable code bid Caleb watch over the innocent beauty. And a pretend engagement is the only way to protect her from further harm. 

Raised by a single mother and suffragist, Anna doesn't think much of marriage—and she certainly doesn't plan to try it herself. But playing Caleb's blushing bride-to-be makes her rethink her independent ways, because their make-believe romance is becoming far too real… 

Prairie Courtships: Romance on the range

Saturday, February 14, 2015

My Lady Valentine Part 12 - The End



I'm Jolene Navarro and I'm going to share with you the final scene of a great battle and the love of Lady Elizabeth and  Baron Drake. Happy Valentine's day!  

     With Drake’s warm hand on her upper arm, Elizabeth scanned the room for her sister. What she found were faces full of terror, women screaming and running. Her heart lodged in her throat. Villains had invaded her home on a day of love and joy.  She didn’t have time to hide behind Drake. The ground would soon be turning red with the blood of innocents, innocents she was responsible for.
     While her own blood pounded in her ears, she left the security of Drake’s presences and ran to her Man-of-Arms. The look of devastation on his face scared her. She quickly gave him orders to move the knights to the west wall and send out men to close all entrees, she thought of every single lesson her parents had taught her. She couldn’t afford to miss anything.  The flow of invaders had to be stopped. She demanded a few guards to take the women and children to the Abby. 
     Metal clashed on metal.  Drake forced the enemy out of the hall with the might of his sword, his training in full evidence with every fast and swift move. Her stomach rolled in fear. He fought viciously, as if these were his very own people. The easy going charmer had vanished, Drake was now a brave warrior her people needed. The clanging of metal weapons and screams of pain crowded her head.
     Her sister, where was Patricia? Looking toward the courtyard she saw her, under the thorny vines of the hibernating rose bushes. Next to her was Thomas. Her brother had arrived!  A touch on her arm startled her and she swung around. Aunt Jane stood there, tears in her aunt's eyes. “I’m so sorry. I knew. I did, but I wanted to pretend everything would be….I hoped he…” Her aunt collapsed into her arms, sobbing. “I thought he would forgive me.”
     She moved her aunt to the dark alcove she had just been in with Drake. Thomas joined them with Patricia in tow.  “Aunt!” His voice stern. “Why did you stay silent? They could have been better prepared.”
     Confused, Elizabeth looked at her distraught aunt. The frail women reached a hand out to Thomas. “I didn’t want to believe he would do this. I knew he wanted revenge, but I didn’t know he hated us this much. Oh God, please forgive me.”
     He brother stepped back and lifted his sword. “Claude, the man pretending to be Viscount Nicolas, is Aunt Jane’s illegitimate son with Richard, Nicholas’ father.” He looked at Elizabeth.  “Your marriage was to heal and bring peace to the families.”
    Elizabeth's mind spun. “What---“ 
     Thomas cut her off. “I just found out myself.” Turning from them, he whistled. A young, curly haired noble, Burke, who was attending the festivities, ran to them.  His silk tunic already bloody and torn.
     “I was so worried. We were looking in every room for you.” His gaze stayed on Patricia the whole time. “We have a safe place for you and your family.” He nodded to Thomas. “I’ll make sure they get there.”
     Sword ready to swing, Thomas ran without a backward glance. 
     Patricia wrapped her hands around Burke’s arm. “Will you stay with us? This is so…so horrible I can’t even…” She stared crying on his sleeve as he put an arm around her shoulder.
     “Of course my lady.” He finally looked up and acknowledged Elizabeth and Aunt Jane, who was still crying so hard she couldn’t talk. “Stay close to me and I will get you to safety.” He reassured them, taking Aunt Jane to his other arm.
     Elizabeth didn’t have time to be safe. She needed to help, to find a way to protect her people. Heading to the court yard she didn’t argue or wait for permission.
     “My Lady you can’t go that way. I’ve been charged with your safety. You’ll only get in….”
She started running along the wall to the staircase. She had a plan. It might be the end of her good reputation, but her people’s safety was worth it. For a mere moment she thought of Drake and how he would react to her secret. Her brother had always told her she was the best he had ever seen. Of course, he also made her vow to never let anyone know about their training. As she took the stairs, she knew she would have to sacrifice the chance of being wife to such a noble man if it meant he and others would live.


     Drake switched the sword to his other hand and drew a fortifying breath. He couldn’t afford to weaken.  A great burden had been lifted from his heart when he saw Thomas join Elizabeth. Her brother would make sure she was safe.  The tip of an axe caught his arm as he spun and lunged. Another enemy down.  As his sword danced with another, Drake tried to locate the false Nicolas. If they could find him the battle would come to an end.  Another spin, another enemy.
     His lungs burned as he forced air in and out. Stay calm, anticipate, swing, hold, and lunge!
     From the left, a giant of a bear charged at him, on the right a man with the look of a viper struck. This was it. He would die on the field of honor without ever telling a woman the truth of his heart. Never to tell Elizabeth his love for her.
     He lifted his sword and met the bear, preparing for a hit. He was startled when the lean viper fell limp into their fight instead. An arrow protruding from his forehead. Just as quickly the bear fell. Another deadly arrow.
     Stunned, he looked for his guardian angel over his shoulder and found Elizabeth standing tall, as tall and timeless as the mountains surrounding her home, the familiar look of sternness on her face. He had never enjoyed the company of flirty, giggling girls, no matter how pretty.
     Now he knew why. His heart had been waiting for his serious and intelligent love. Her bravery caused his heart to slam against his chest. She pulled the string taut and he watched the arrow hit another mark. a man attacking her brother’s back.
With this area cleared of invaders, he ran past the court yard. Thomas joined him and they jumped into the battle, caging the uninvited guests into a corner of the keep. Arrows from the walk above now took down enemies one at a time.  Drake smiled. When they did claim victory it would be due to it one fiery lady of the keep.
He took the opportunity to scan for the leader of this crash. The imposter had to be around somewhere waiting to strike.
     An arrow missed its mark falling harmlessly to the ground.  His heart stopped as he looked up to make sure she was unharmed. 
     “NO!” The fake fiance held Elizabeth by the neck as he dragged her away. She was kicking and clawing. The fighting around him faded out as he became focused on one goal.  Get to Elizabeth and kill the man harming her.
     Running faster than his heart could beat, Drake dodged swords and clubs before he paused at the steps. What if he wasted time searching in the wrong place? Taking a deep breath he scanned the area. Then he heard it. Elizabeth trying to call his name. A man’s oath. Good, she must have found a soft spot. 
Sword drawn, Drake had to cut through a thick wall of twisted vines full of thorns in order to get his love.
      Finally stepping into the clearing he found Elizabeth pushing at her attacker.  
     The man wheezed in pain as he dodged more of the fair lady’s kicks. “This fortress will be mine, even if you don’t—“
     “Unhand her.” Drake gripped his weapon with both hands. His injured arm throbbed and a wound in his leg shot pain up his back. With heavy breaths, he focused on the enemy. “I killed you once, I’ll kill you again.”
      The man sneered and threw Elizabeth to the ground.
      Run, please run. She did. She stood and fled. He sent a prayer of thanks that she listened and one for her safety.
He slowly turned in a wide circle and waited for the other man to attack. his strength quickly waning. If he could make his enemy do all the work he might get to see Elizabeth in the sweet light of morning sun. He might get the chance to tell her of his love.
     The enemy lunged and swung, hitting Drake in the shoulder. With a block of his sword, Drake drove the other man back. In circles they went, stabbing, blocking.
     A hit to the leg brought Drake to his knees. This was it, he would not be seeing his true love again. Lifting his sword, he refused to make this easy for the imposter.  The false Nicholas laughed as he started to bring his own sword down when an arrow threw him backwards. He landed on his back, staring at a sky he would never see again.
     Spinning around, Drake tried to raise and greet his hero, but his legs gave out and his world went black.
***
     Elizabeth leaned against the wall. The cool breeze dancing through her hair. She turned her face into the sun, letting the warmth embrace her. Drake would be leaving soon. He had fully recovered from his injuries.  Injuries he had sustained while protecting her people.
     And protect them he did.
     All the women and children were safe. They had lost three of their warriors, but the enemy and lost many. She still had a hard time sleeping, seeing the death she herself had brought to men. Men that she knew were going to kill people she loved, but still killing did not come easy.
     Life wasn’t so clear cute in what was right and wrong anymore. Her Aunt’s secret had sifted what she thought to be true in her family.  Aunt Jane had been a mere girl when a handsome nobleman had made promises he knew he wouldn’t keep and then ravished her, never bothering to tell Aunt Jane he was married.  When she found herself with child, the family took the baby from her and hid him. That son had lived his whole life consumed by anger.
     Elizabeth sighed. They all agreed Aunt Jane’s tragedy would remain a family secret. With Nicolas, his father and now Claude dead too, it didn’t matter anymore and Aunt Jane had suffered enough.
     If it weren’t for man like her father, her brother, and Drake, she might decide to hate the whole gender. Patricia’s new love, Burke, seemed to be of the same good caliber.True men of God.
     Drake. Her mind drifted to him a great deal. Sitting by his bedside as his body fought off an infection had become her daily routine. Now he was up and no longer needed her. She felt a little lost. She loved working in the gardens and on tapestries, but the restless she ignored before had become stronger.
     “I see someone else dares brave the cold for a breath of air,” said a deep voice to her left.  “I’m surprised.  Not many maidens I know venture beyond their tapestries for such a pleasure.” His charming smile baited her to smile back, even if it wasn’t proper. This time she did. He had taught her that smiling was so much better than scowling at the world.
     She allowed her gaze to take in this seemly laid back charmer with chestnut brown hair, a bit too long. When she had first seen him she had thought he was in need of a trim. Now, all she thought of was running her fingers through the tousled mess. She had grown fond of his mischief. Maybe she needed some of that back in her life. “I’m sure I’m very much unlike the many maidens you know.”
     He chuckled. “True. Not that I know that many. My business of war has made me a bit unsuitable for the company of most maidens. I find I prefer the more serious kind of lady. I have never met any female and very few men that are as accurate with a bow and arrow as you proved to be in the heat of battle.”
     She turned red and looked away. What had she been thinking when she started to flirt with him? That he would be interested in such an unladylike maiden as herself? Not likely.


     He motioned for them to continue walking along the parapet, just like the first day, as if they were a promised couple walking along together.  “Sir, you seem to have forgotten again, it is not proper for us to be alone.”
     “If my memory is correct you have spent many hours alone in my bedchamber with me.”
     She gasped, horrified he would say something like that to her. “Just because I shot an arrow like a man is no reason to insult me.”  She would not look at him. She couldn’t and the thought that she might cry was actually more horrifying.
     His callused hand gently touched her arm. “Truly, Elizabeth, my indent was not to insult or embarrass you. My sense of humor does get me in trouble, see why I’m not suitable for fair company.” He touched one finger to her face and with slight pressure turned her toward him. “You are amazing. You know we claimed victory because of your skill and bravery. I’m alive and so are many others, including your brother because of the talent he encouraged you to practice. You should never hid or be ashamed of your ability."
     She almost believed him.
     He smoothed out the wrinkles her frown caused. “I have your father and brother’s permission to be here, alone with you.” He went down on one knee.
      Her hand went to her mouth that was now hanging open. He lifted a yellow ribbon towards her. As she went to touch it a strong wind took the silk strip. They both grabbed for it, but it danced higher.
     Drake laughed and ran after it. He returned with a smile and the ribbon, the blue sky behind him. From a silk bag he pulled out a flower, a perfect red rose. Again, he dropped to his knee. “I know St. Valentine’s Day is over, but ours was a little interrupted.” He looked up and just stared at her for a bit. “You are the most beautiful ---“
     “Oh, Drake. Please don’t lie to me. I know there are many good qualities about me, but I’m not even the pretty sister, let alone the most beautiful maiden. You don’t need to flatter me with sugary tributes. I …like you a lot and I hope you would …return the feelings.” Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears. She held her breath. Waiting
     He raised on perfect eyebrow and the corner of his fine-looking lips pulled up, causing the dimple to cut a line in his cheek.
     She sighed.
     “Are you done?” His deep voice had traces of humor laced in the simple question.
     She nodded.
     He handed her the rose and then tied the yellow ribbon around her wrist. “I ask your permission to spend the rest of my days convincing you that you are my nirvana, the beauty that settles my heart and gives my peace. You are brave and beautiful. You insult my honor or sight by implying I’m either a liar or weak in the eyes, I assure you I’m neither.”
     She held her breath. Maybe she had found a home for her heart.
     He took her hand. “I pledge my love, my honor and my life to you.” He licked his lips and swallowed. “Will you be mine?”
     “Yes!” Oh, she was going to cry. “I’ve waited so long for you and you…you seemed too good to be true.”
He stood and pulled her close than spun around with her, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and joined his laughter with her own, the joy couldn’t be contained. She laughed and cried. It would be just one day of many that she would find joy in his arms. 
“Not sure about the too good to be true part. I’m sure I’ll find all sort of ways to drive you to madness.” And his first attempt worked when he pressed his lips to hers.
     They lived happily ever after and many years later they would tell their great grandchildren the story of their first Valentine's day together. How love conquered evil.

The End.

Friday, February 13, 2015

My Lady Valentine Part 11



“Then we must prove that Viscount Nicolas is a fraud,” Elizabeth directed her statement toward Baron Drake.

“Your aunt,” he remarked. “She must have met him before.”

“She’s resting.” Elizabeth had thought much the same thing. If her aunt had sensed something amiss, surely she’d have warned them. “Perhaps on the morrow she’ll feel more inclined to speak.”

“Perhaps.” He set his jaw in a grim line. “Unless tomorrow is too late.”

With the treacherous game unfurling, Elizabeth remained on her guard. Around them voices swirled and the music ebbed and flowed. The merriment continued, unheeding of the danger. “You don’t think Viscount Nicolas, the impostor, has something villainous in mind?”

“Your brother has done a fine job with the castle.” Baron Drake’s questioning gaze took in the tapestries lining the enormous walls fashioned of roughhewn stones. “The construction will surely aid in the defense of the structure. But with no men to guard these walls, his efforts are for naught.”

The accusation in his voice raised her hackles. “My brother left a contingent of men. He’s most concerned with my safety and the safety of his keep.”

“He’s left you to oversee the festivities alone. What better time to attack?”

A drunken man lurched by, spilling his wine at Baron Drake’s feet with a mumbled apology. No one paid them any mind. The guests were too sated from the feast and too relaxed from the copious amounts of wine served.

Elizabeth stared at the boisterous crowd of people in growing horror. Baron Drake was correct. They were weak and exposed. The portcullis had been raised for most of the day. How many servants and revelers had passed beneath the gate unchecked in that time?

“Where is Baron Nicolas now?” She glanced toward where she had seen him last, and her stomach clenched. “He’s gone.”

Baron Drake caught her hand, tugging her along behind him. She lifted her skirts, her feet flying to keep up with his swift pace. He halted before a darkened alcove and faced her, catching both of her hands in his own. The intensity of his gaze stole her breath away.

“Elizabeth…If something happens...I…”

Sudden, panicked screams overwhelmed the music and Baron Drake's husky voice. Her knees weakened and a haze of fear clouded her vision.

Sir Drake unsheathed his sword from his scabbard and thrust her behind him. “The keep is under attack!”



Thursday, February 12, 2015

My Lady Valentine - part 10


Lacy Williams here with today's installment:


“…what does a man say to the man he believes he killed?”

“Only that I would be willing to do it again. A lady’s honor must be upheld.”
Whether it was his sister or Lady Elizabeth.
Drake held his sword loosely, its weight familiar in his hand. In this crowded hall with guests milling—and many watching the tableau unfold with wide eyes—he could not swing it without risking endangering those around.
Had his blunt words upset Lady Elizabeth?
He dared to look away from the viscount to glance down on her. Where he had expected a scowl, like the one she’d bestowed on him so easily earlier, he witnessed the fine tremble pass Lady Elizabeth’s lips.
She was frightened.
Before this moment, he’d believed she might be glad at the reappearance of her betrothed. But it seemed she knew of the viscount’s rumored cruelty.
And after spending most of the day with her helping finalize Lady Jane’s plans for the festival, he knew he couldn’t walk away and leave her to the viscount’s machinations.
If this man was the viscount. He hadn’t recognized Drake or Lady Elizabeth until his companion had identified them.
Nicholas glared, his gaze flicking between Drake and Lady Elizabeth. Now that Drake knew Elizabeth had no desire for the match, he must do something.
“I was promised this dance,” he said as the music swirled above the noise of the crowd.
He sheathed his sword and swept Elizabeth into the crowd, leaving Nicholas behind. Instead of moving into the dance patterns, he guided her across the floor to the opposite side of the hall and into a shadowed alcove that afforded some privacy.
He hadn’t meant to literally sweep her away but realized his hands rested at her hips and they stood too close for propriety’s sake.
And he wanted her closer.
Her soft breaths warmed his chin. Only the smallest of spaces separated them. He could easily close the distance and kiss her parted lips…
Which was why he forced himself to release her.
“Your brother should be here protecting you.” His words emerged sharper than he’d intended, maybe as protection to himself. But seeing her uncertain made him want things he couldn’t afford to want.
And her chin came up, that fierce, familiar scowl reappearing along with her backbone. “I can protect myself.”
Perhaps not.
“My man is looking into the viscount’s presence here.” And whether the viscount was truly who he claimed to be. “Something isn’t right with his sudden appearance. Where has he been these past years?” And why hadn’t he recognized Drake?
She looked past him, out to where the assembled crowd still danced and made merry. “Mayhap my aunt knows something. Her episode came on when she learned of his presence. I’ll seek her counsel in the morn.”
But until then, who would watch over Elizabeth?


























Wednesday, February 11, 2015

My Lady Valentine Part 9

 Louise M. Gouge

Although the poser strutted into the Great Hall with the same gait, the same posture, and even the same arrogant smirk on his identical face, Drake knew straightaway that this was not Viscount Nicolas, the man with whom he had dueled, the man whom he had undeniably killed.

With his own eyes, Drake had observed the writhing death throes of Nicolas. He’d watched as the lifeblood flowed from the man’s chest and neck, his corpse turning pale in death, and his eyes staring lifelessly into the blazing sky. Drake had sufficient experience in battle to know death when he saw it. This imposter did not even bear a scar from the deep wound to his cheek that Drake had inflicted.

Further, when the man scanned the occupants of the hall, briefly stopping to gaze at Drake, his eyes didn’t flicker with recognition, much less the hatred with which Nicolas had ever viewed Drake. Nor did he settle a knowing gaze upon his supposed betrothed, Lady Elizabeth, who stood beside Drake. Who was this man? A twin brother? A cousin? Some village wench’s by-blow whom his father sired and then trained to be Nicolas’s double in case of an emergency?

That thought shocked Drake more than he wished to admit. Had he killed the double instead of the actual viscount? After all, the duel had been precipitated upon an insult to Drake’s sister, not the behavior of a gentleman to a lady of noble birth. Drake had acted immediately, not bothering to check his opponent’s breeding. Challenge made, challenge accepted, swords drawn and Lydia’s honor avenged, all within the space of a half hour. Drake’s adversary had exhibited great cunning with his weapon sufficient to warrant his claim to the title. But even a village brat could be trained to the sword. Was this, then, the real viscount? Surely not.

The sycophant at the man’s elbow tugged upon the viscount’s sleeve, and the imposter leaned in his direction all too willingly, perhaps even familiarly. Drake held a certain affection for his closest servants, but none of them expected to be treated with like regard in such exalted company as a Valentine Ball for nobles and aristocracy. The sycophant whispered to Nicolas and nodded toward Drake and Lady Elizabeth. The two then made their way across the crowded hall, the viscount shoving important people aside as he strutted toward them.

Drake eyed his comely companion. Only moments ago, she’d taken his arm and accepted his escort into the Great Hall, albeit somewhat dejectedly, and he’d vowed to make her grant him one of her glorious smiles. Yet now she clutched that arm almost in desperation. A soft gasp, followed by a soft sigh escaped her, and Drake’s heart swelled with emotion, even as his hand went to his sword. He would protect Lady Elizabeth just as he’d protected his sister. She had but to indicate her displeasure with her supposed fiancé. For his part, Drake saw no affection in the viscount’s eyes as he looked at the fair lady, only the vilest and most improper attraction, which alone deserved nothing less than a duel for her honor.

They stopped in front of Lady Elizabeth, and the interloper took her hand, raising it to his lips for an elaborate kiss. “My dear betrothed bride, at long last we meet. You are nothing short of ravishing, just as I was promised by your good father.” He touched her ivory cheek with one finger, running the crooked appendage down the length of it to her chin. Drake clutched the hilt of his sword.

“Hmm,” the rake continued. “We must hasten our wedding, poppet, for I am eager to beget an heir. Are you of the same sentiment?”

Lady Elizabeth started at his improper address. “How dare you…?”

Drake inched his sword from its scabbard.

“Ah.” Nicolas, or whoever he was, stared now at Drake. “There you are. Now, tell me sir, what does a man say to the villain who has killed him?” He chuckled in an evil way. “Indeed, what does a man say to the man he believes he had killed?”

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

My Lady Valentine, Part 8 by Patty Smith Hall

  

 Elizabeth stood with her back to the looking glass the next evening as Mary, her maid fussed with the hem of her gown, a velvety mixture of emerald and gold her mother consigned the village seamstress to made for the celebration of Saint Valentine. A vain attempt to snare a husband, especially if the rumors of Viscount Nicolas’s arrival were true.
      

A scowl wrinkled her forehead. Nay, the viscount had laid in his grave these last two years, killed as he’d slain others, at the edge of another man’s sword. Then who was this imposter masquerading as Viscount Nicolas? What devious plot had resurrected him from his eternal sleep?
 

“Mi lady,” Mary rose, a bright smile lighting her wrinkled face putting a glow in the woman’s plump cheeks. “King Henry himself could not have a lovelier lady by his side tonight than you.”
    

The frustration that had plagued Elizabeth most of the day lifted slightly at the compliment. “Thank you, Mary, though I do not believe Queen Matilda would welcome such a comment.”
 

“Nor his majesty. It is said the king is quite besotted with his new bride.”
    

Elizabeth had heard such rumors also. “A love match as well as a political one.”

“A blessing from God himself.”
 

Unlike her own betrothal to Viscount Nicolas. Her father had arranged the marriage, certain it would provide stability to their keep as the war between King Henry and his brother, Richard raged around them. A warrior, her father had described the viscount, who would protect their joined lands, yet treat Elizabeth with kindness if not love. 

Elizabeth had no such expectations. Word of Viscount Nicolas’s brutality, his violence against his own people had been whispered in the kitchen and stables of the keep, the fears of her father’s people growing as the wedding grew near, so much so, Elizabeth had taken her concerns to her father.
 

She drew in a deep sigh. Her father had been unmoved by her arguments. She was, he’d reminded her, simply a woman, not bound by the same responsibilities of his gender. The betrothal had been agreed upon by the king. Only death could release her from the agreement. When news of the viscount’s death reached their keep, the only emotion Elizabeth felt was blessed relief. She was free until another advantageous marriage could be arranged. 

“Do you approve of your appearance, mi lady?”
 

 Elizabeth turned and stared into the looking glass, a flutter of satisfaction sending a quiver feminine pride through her heart. The deep green folds of the gown fell into pleasant lines around her hips, the gold tunic she wore beneath peeking out at her bodice and swirling around her legs as she turned from side to side. Matching ribbons of velvety green and deepest gold held the thick ropes of her hair in a long braid, shards of light dancing along each curl.     

Would Baron Drake think her comely?

She shook the thought away. “It will do.”

Disappointment flashed in the older woman’s eyes but quickly vanished as she fiddled with Elizabeth’s sleeve, the playfulness back in her gaze. “It’s said you’re to be partnered with Baron Drake tonight.”
 

An opportunity to silence any rumors before they took root. “Yes, though only as a favor to the duchess. She rest easier knowing the baron is at my side.”
 

“You looked to be enjoying the gentleman’s company as you worked together today.”
 

“Yes.” She had, more than she’d expected. Drake had been helpful, charming everyone from the kitchen maids to her aunt , asking Elizabeth’s opinion on matters of politics and faith, challenging her in a way no man had ever considered, pushing her to think in ways she’d never thought before. The sense of sadness when they’d parted this afternoon had caught her by surprise as did the softening of her heart when she’d turned back to look upon him one more time.
 

Elizabeth swallowed against the sudden knot in her throat. Affection was an emotion she could ill afford, not with her own responsibilities to her father’s people. No, she must spend this evening searching for the truth surrounding ‘Viscount Nicolas’s’ return.  

And say good bye to Baron Drake.

Popular Posts

Write for Love Inspired Romance?

Write for Love Inspired Romance?
If you do and would like to join this blog, please contact either Margaret Daley or Pamela Tracy

Total Pageviews

Blog Archive