When Daniel Dereham makes his first appearance in London, it doesn’t take long for English aristocratic tongues to wag with curiosity. Who is this rich, gorgeous mystery man?
Lady Anne Sexton needs a wealthy husband to hold onto the Grex estate and restore it to its former glory. If marrying Dereham allows her to stay in her home, then she’ll do what she needs to do.
Is it a business arrangement…or potentially the start of something more?Genre: FICTION / Romance / Regency
Joan Wolf is our #2 bestselling author. She is a USA Today bestselling author. Her royalty earnings are consistently in the thousands of dollars each quarter.
Anne was brushing her beloved old mare’s blood bay coat when Toby, the only groom left on the estate, came to tell her that her father had returned from London and wished to see her. She mustered up a smile and handed Molly’s lead to Toby. “Take her back to her stall and make sure she has fresh water,” she said.
“Of course, my lady.” Toby, who had to be at least sixty, sounded injured.
Anne put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know you would never forget the water, Toby. I’m just a little…concerned at the moment. And not about Molly.”
He gave her his toothless smile. “That’s all right, my lady. I’ll take good care of the princess here.”
Anne flashed him a smile, then turned to walk across the paddock, past the stables and up the dirt road to the house. Her old governess, who had been with her since she was five, was waiting at the door. “He’s in the library,” she reported tersely. “Didn’t look happy.”
Percival’s lost money at the races. The thought flashed instantly into Anne’s brain. Her brother had been losing races ever since he went away to school. Granted, in Percival’s case, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Anne’s father, the Earl of Grex, had been losing races for a lot longer than his son.
Anne moved gracefully down the hall to the small parlor, one of the few rooms on the ground floor that was still usable. She pushed open the door and saw her father standing in front of one of the tall windows, his back toward her. “You wished to see me, Papa?” she asked.
He swung around to face her. The Earl of Grex was a tall man with a red face and a well-established stomach. He was scowling. “There you are, Anne. Come in, come in, I must speak to you.”
Already translated. Translated by Aline Herold
Already translated. Translated by Brenda Acero