Miss Foxworth's Fate (12 page)
Read Miss Foxworth's Fate Online
Authors: Sahara Kelly
Tags: #Regency, #Regency historical, #lovers, #mesmerism
She turned her head again and looked at him through the shadows, her eyebrows lifted with the unvoiced question.
“You were missing out on
love
.”
She wished she could see his eyes in the darkness and read the emotions she heard in his voice. They would flicker with heat and warmth and put her under his spell once more.
She snorted to herself. As if she needed any help on
that
particular feeling.
He cuddled her, stroking, soothing, murmuring how much he loved her and all the wonderful things they could spend the rest of their lives doing. And it would probably take that long, because the man certainly seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of wickedly wonderful suggestions.
She squirmed as he breathed a particularly delicious thought into her ear. She blushed. “Philip. Is such a thing truly possible?”
He laughed. “Abby, for us, all things are possible.”
She couldn’t help an answering grin. “Oh good.” She spread her arms and hugged him, taking enormous comfort from the steady beat of his heart as it quietly thumped beneath her head.
“But you’ll have to agree to marry me, first, of course.”
She stilled.
“Face facts, Abby. You’ve compromised me quite dreadfully. If you don’t make an honest man of me, what the devil will our children think?”
“They’ll think...” She smiled. “They’ll think that their father is a wicked, wicked man who can’t keep his hands off their mother.”
Philip’s arms tightened. “And they’ll be absolutely right.”
“Or, they might just believe that I was mesmerized. And I was.”
He yawned. “I never mesmerized you, darling. You mesmerized
me
.”
She smiled and settled herself comfortably. She’d surrendered to love. A new life was starting for her. A life filled with laughter and joy.
She’d been mesmerized all right. One glance at Philip Ashton had been all it took for her to know, deep in her heart, where her future lay.
In his eyes.
*~~*~~*
In the dark corridors of Foxworth house, an elderly figure moved quietly away down the dimly lit passage to her suite of rooms.
The murmur of voices had ceased behind the door to which she quite shamelessly had been pressing her ear. A grin curled her wrinkled lips, and her cane made little sound on the carpeted floor.
The Dowager Countess of Wexford was pleased. Her granddaughter had finally found a man she could love.
The wrongs of the past, for which she felt horribly responsible, were on their way to being righted.
And if they kept
that
sort of behavior up, she might just live to dandle her first great-grandchild on her knee.
Now, the most important question remained.
What the devil was she going to wear to the wedding?
THE END
About the Author
Sahara Kelly is always happy to explain that her spelling errors aren’t really errors, since she was born and raised in England, where an extra “u” is quite in order. She likes to think it adds
colour
to her writing. Sadly, it’s not a widely held belief in the United States, so she’d like you to know she still retains a lot from her English childhood even though you won’t see much of it in her spelling.
Arriving in America with her almost-complete collection of Leslie Charteris’ Saint novels and a passion for Monty Python, Sahara’s new life eventually expanded to include a husband, offspring, citizenship, and a certain amount of acclimation to her new surroundings. (She still cherishes that extra ”u” though.)
After more than two decades of writing, Sahara is now enjoying the greater freedom offered to authors by the rapidly expanding independent publishing scene. Being freed of restraints has opened doors—for Sahara and many other writers. There are now no impediments; no obstructions barring the path from writer to reader. Which is, in many ways, exactly as originally intended when that first storyteller sat on a rock outside her cave, tugged her bearskin around her shoulders and smiled at her kids across the open fire with the words “Once upon a time...” (or however it sounded several million years ago.)
To find out more about Sahara Kelly and her writing, please drop by and visit
her website
.
This is where Sahara shares none of the intimate details of her life, but will present you with a list of books she'd like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages accompanied by drinks with umbrellas in them. She’ll send you a postcard. Thank you.
When not dreaming of lazing on tropical beaches, Sahara has a relatively active social presence on the Internet. Take a look:
You can check her backlist of Amazon releases by visiting :
And if all that isn’t enough, you can stay on top of what’s on the way from Sahara’s fertile imagination by subscribing to her newsletter and keeping up to date with everything going on by clicking
here
. She doesn’t send them out too often, so you won’t be swamped with unwanted mail. Sahara loathes that and refuses to inflict it on anyone else so you can go ahead and subscribe without worrying about it.
Also by Sahara Kelly: (*- co-written with S.L. Carpenter)
Discreet Madness
§
The Viscount and the Witch
My Lady Vampire (Anthology)
Madam Charlie
The Gypsy Lovers
Letting Off Steam
Winding Her Up
Stripping Her Gears
My Renaissance Romance
Hired Help*
Open House
Suite 69*
An Unkindness of Ravens
A Watch of Nightingales
A Siege of Herons
My Wish
My Prize
My Hero
Faerieland Needs YOU
Sally Ann
Suliana
Thanael
So Into You*
And many more…
*~~*~~*
§ =
Amazon Kindle Best Seller, Spring 2015
*Several of the above titles were co-written with friend and writing partner S.L. Carpenter. Together, they have a dozen or so books available, each featuring their trademark touches of humor and heat. Their most recent release is a brand new stand-alone story titled
So Into You
.
This, and a whole bunch of Sahara Kelly’s other books, can be found online for your eReader at your favorite vendor. Quite a few are also in print. No excuses, people. You can add her stories to your bookshelves physically or digitally. Go get ‘em.
*~~*~~*
Sahara would like to mention that she’s recently initiated a new collaboration with her writing partner, S.L. Carpenter. They have blended another of their shared passions — art — and formed an online graphics business focusing on the complicated world of writers. If you’re interested in seeing what they get up to when they’re not writing something twistedly hot and sexy, they’d like to invite you to come visit their business at the link below and check out some of the amazing cover art currently being created by S.L. Carpenter. They’re certainly never bored…
Keep reading for a brief glimpse into the exciting Regency erotic romance that has stirred up Amazon readers…
Discreet Madness
By Sahara Kelly
EXCERPT
Chapter 1
Looking at her reflection in the tall mirror, Miranda Montvale realized that this scheme was complete and utter madness.
The neckline of her dress was definitely too low. She tugged, but nothing would make it rise more than a fraction of an inch and she was desperately afraid that if she sneezed her nipples would make their debut.
It had to be one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. She turned to the woman seated behind her. “Are you sure about this dress, Letty?”
Letitia Randolph stood and stretched, pushing her hand to her lower back to ease the ache.
“I mean, being
enceinte
, you might be prey to some odd fancies, you know...”
“Miranda, this is
not
an odd fancy. Nor is it actually
my
idea.
Nor
do I get ‘odd fancies’. I am expecting a child, not insane. Although I must admit there have been times when I’ve wondered if they were one and the same...” she sighed and eased her bulky body back onto the chair.
Miranda turned back to the looking glass. “Well, it still looks indecent,” she complained, twisting this way and that to see her reflection.
Letty sighed. “It’s supposed to look indecent. How are you going to catch Nicholas Barbour’s attention, let alone seduce him into bed, if you don’t look indecent?”
Miranda bit her lip.
“Look, ‘Randa, if you don’t want to go through with this, I’ve told you that John and I will raise the money for you somehow...”
Miranda immediately shook her head, sending fiery curls shimmering around her neck and shoulders. “You and John are the closest thing to family I have. You have your own responsibilities and problems, and I’ll not be the one to add to them. This plan will work. I know it...”
“I hope you’re right. I still think that attempting to win ‘The Barb’s’ bet is a dangerous and silly plan. But I understand.” Letty looked down and smoothed her hand over her belly. “In fact, I have to confess that if it hadn’t been for John, well...I might have thought about...just thought about, you understand...”
Miranda turned smiling eyes on her friend. “You mean you’d have joined the eager throng of women determined to satisfy Nicholas Barbour?”
“Well, he is rather delicious-looking, all that hard muscle under those exquisitely cut jackets, and his thighs...Mmm.”
“Letty.” admonished Miranda. “You’re a married woman.”
“Yes, I know,” grinned Letty. “That’s a rather obvious fact right now,” she glanced down at the next generation of Randolphs. “And I’d never consider doing anything at all with anyone other than John, but let’s be honest, Nick Barbour is one glorious specimen of manhood.” She licked her lips.
“A specimen who, apparently, is unable to reach his own satisfaction.” Miranda gazed at her reflection.
“So ‘tis said. Have you seen him?”
A brief impression of midnight blue eyes, wind tossed hair and an arrogant air flashed through Miranda’s mind. “Only once—while riding. He galloped past at a furious pace. And oh my, he did have very strong thighs...” She blushed.
“That’s not the only thing that is supposed to be strong. You know why they call him ‘the Barb’?”
“Because of his similarity to a Barbarian, I would suppose,” answered Miranda, tucking a wayward curl into its correct position.
“Oh no,” chuckled Letty. “It’s because his—um—equipment is rather like a horse’s. You know, that famous Arabian stallion...The Barb?”
Miranda turned wide eyes on Letty. “Really?”
“Really.” This time it was a definite giggle. “Of course, having been married, you’ll not be shocked, right?”
Miranda snorted inelegantly.
Letty bit her lip, annoyed at herself for reminding her dearest friend of the disastrous marriage from which the death of her husband had liberated her.
“Marriage meant little in the way of physical activities for me, Letty. We’ve discussed that before.”
“Yes, I know, and the fact that Lord Montvale was old enough to be your grandfather certainly didn’t help.”
“And you don’t understand how he could only have...have taken me once. It’s the truth. After that first time he never touched me. He’d just—look.”
Miranda blushed still at the memories of standing nude before her elderly husband in a pose of his choice, being examined by him and his trusty eyeglass. Even though he hadn’t laid a hand on her, there was something infinitely more uncomfortable about being examined while naked than being
held
while naked.
“Well, it’s distinctly odd. And it did nothing to prepare you for Nick Barbour, that’s definite,” nodded Letty.
“It sounds as though there is little that would prepare anyone for Nick Barbour,” said Miranda ruefully. “If there wasn’t the matter of ten thousand pounds riding on this silly bet, do you think I’d go within two miles of that man?”
Letitia gazed at her friend, standing tall and proud like an Amazon warrior in black velvet. Privately she considered Miranda an excellent match for Nick Barbour, but knew she’d never be able to voice the opinion out loud.
Carefully, she considered her next words. “Lord Nicholas Barbour has offered ten thousand pounds to the woman who can satisfy him
while he is within her body.
That should tell you something right there. They say he’s very big, Miranda. So big that none of his mistresses thus far have been able to take him to the point of release inside their bodies. Do you understand?”
“Oh yes, I understand very well...” a small smile curved Miranda’s full lips.
“And?”
“Let me worry about that, Letty. For ten thousand pounds, I can be the best henhouse for the biggest cock to roost in.”