Arabella Sheraton grew up on a diet of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and many other writers of that period. From Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, Arabella has found both enjoyment and inspiration in sparkling, witty Regency novels. She also loves history and generally finds the past more fascinating than the future. Arabella wrote her first Regency romance to entertain her aged mom who loved the genre. Arabella is honoured to share the adventures of her heroes and heroines with readers.
A witty traditional Regency romance that will captivate fans of the genre.
When Helena Wainwright accompanies her two young nieces and her nephew to stay at Rotherham Park with their new guardian who is their uncle, the Duke of Rotherham, she agrees to remain for six months to help the children adjust to their new life. She finds the handsome, charming Duke of Rotherham to be the most insufferable, self-opinionated, domineering and arrogant man she has ever met. Unhappily, the duke also holds an unflattering opinion of Helena. “Wayward was the only word to describe such a determined, contrary, and obstinate young woman who defied him at every turn regarding the upbringing of his wards. He would be very glad to see her go.”
The Duke of Rotherham is contemplating making Miss Emily Fanshawe, a beautiful, and (everyone thinks) well-bred young woman an offer of marriage. However, Emily has terrible secrets to hide, besides having a clandestine lover. Helena discovers Emily's secrets and does not know which way to turn. If she reveals the truth to protect the duke's social standing, she will betray Emily, with dire consequences. Besides, the duke seems determined to marry Emily, simply to prove a point, even though his godmother, Lady Mildred Ormsby has suspicions the Fanshawes are not who they say they are! Emily’s mother is hell-bent on marrying her daughter off to a rich, preferably titled, man. She will let nothing stand in her way, even stooping to abduction and possibly murder.
Can Helena win in the face of heavy odds and the machinations of a wicked schemer? And will she want the Duke of Rotherham for herself when hidden elements of his romantic past come to light?
Snippet:
He held the glass to her lips. She reached for it and, as their fingers touched, an indefinable thrill shot through her. He must have felt something as well because he frowned as he held the glass. He placed his other arm around her, holding her steady while she sipped the wine. Then he placed the glass on the table and turned her to face him within the confines of his arms.
“Poor Cousin Helena,” he whispered. “How much we depend on you, and how much I have taken you for granted.”
Helena said nothing. She felt frozen to the spot; his fingers burned her bare skin with a kind of cold fire. She stared into his eyes as the seconds ticked by. Helena dared not move. She suppressed an irresistible and overwhelming urge to reach up and kiss him. His firm lips, the tiny nick where his razor had cut his chin, the harsh lines around his mouth, his dark eyebrows now drawn together in a bewildered frown… He looked as if he, too, did not understand what was happening.
Helena’s heart thumped with loud, slow beats that she was sure were audible in the silent library.
“Helena.” His voice was hoarse.
He lifted one hand and stroked the side of her face, and then he placed his fingers under her chin and tilted it upwards. It was inevitable that they would kiss, and it would be the worst thing in the world. She was leaving Rotherham Park. Rotherham would more than likely offer for Miss Fanshawe. Yet, as if in the power of some spell or enchantment, she was reaching up for his kiss, already longing for the touch of his lips against hers…
“Poor Cousin Helena,” he whispered. “How much we depend on you, and how much I have taken you for granted.”
Helena said nothing. She felt frozen to the spot; his fingers burned her bare skin with a kind of cold fire. She stared into his eyes as the seconds ticked by. Helena dared not move. She suppressed an irresistible and overwhelming urge to reach up and kiss him. His firm lips, the tiny nick where his razor had cut his chin, the harsh lines around his mouth, his dark eyebrows now drawn together in a bewildered frown… He looked as if he, too, did not understand what was happening.
Helena’s heart thumped with loud, slow beats that she was sure were audible in the silent library.
“Helena.” His voice was hoarse.
He lifted one hand and stroked the side of her face, and then he placed his fingers under her chin and tilted it upwards. It was inevitable that they would kiss, and it would be the worst thing in the world. She was leaving Rotherham Park. Rotherham would more than likely offer for Miss Fanshawe. Yet, as if in the power of some spell or enchantment, she was reaching up for his kiss, already longing for the touch of his lips against hers…
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