RELEASE DAY DECEMBER 1
Title:
A Marriage of Inconvenience
Author:
Christine Young
Email: achristay@aol.com
Genre: Historical Romance
Excerpt
Heat Level: 1
Book
Heat Level: 4
Buy
at: www.roguephoenixpress.com
A
REGAL BEAUTY
When
the duchess decides to wed her to a wastrel and a fop, Ravyn Grahm takes
matters into her own hands and declares her engagement to another man. Instead
of fessing up and telling her great aunt what she has done, she goes through
with the pretense. Aric Lakeland is the bastard son of an earl and has a
dangerous reputation. But Ravyn is willing to do most anything to keep the
duchess from discovering the lie.
A
DEVIL-MAY-CARE SMUGGLER
He'd
bought land in America, looking to put down roots and end his life of
adventure, but Aric Lakeland got more than he bargained for when he encountered
a beautiful heiress who made a promise she didn't want to keep. But the promise
could not be undone and standing between them were more obstacles than either
ever dreamed. Aric had made plans to spend the rest of his life in America and
that was at odds with Ravyn's plan of living in England and running her
father's estate. Now, he'll have to choose between his dreams and the woman he
loves more than life.
EXCERPT
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.”
