It is always a pleasure to give a shout out to for a good friend and its a very happy release day for the lovely Amy Rose Bennett and her Regency Noir Romance LADY BEAUCHAMP'S PROPOSAL... a runaway countess and the Scottish highlands... does it get any better?
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LADY BEAUCHAMP'S PROPOSAL
A runaway countess finds love when she least expects it…but
she can’t hide from her past forever.
Elizabeth, Lady Beauchamp, fears for her life. When she
discovers her dissolute and long-estranged husband has syphilis—and he wants to
beget an heir no matter the cost—she flees to a remote part of Scotland to
begin a new life as the widowed governess, Mrs. Beth Eliott at Eilean Tor
Castle.
When Mrs. Eliott unexpectedly arrives on his doorstep, the
reclusive and recently widowed Marquess of Rothsburgh is both irritated and
intrigued. No longer in need of a governess—his young daughter now resides with
his sister’s family in Edinburgh—he proposes the beautiful widow fill a
position of a different kind…
Torn between staying true to her marriage vows and her
wanton attraction to the devilishly handsome marquess, Elizabeth struggles
against the temptation to become his mistress. But living a lie is not easy
when you have fallen in love. And secrets always have a way of coming out…
READ AN EXCERPT
Set-up: Elizabeth, Lady
Beauchamp—after leaving her husband and now in disguise as the widowed
governess, Mrs. Eliott—arrives at Eilean Tor Castle, where she hopes to gain
employment within the household of James Huntly, the Marquess of Rothsburgh.
At last, she heard the
unmistakable sound of bolts being pulled back, and then the door was thrown
wide. A bright lantern was thrust toward her face, blinding her. She raised a
hand to her eyes in a futile attempt to shield them and squinted upwards. An
extremely tall man was holding the lantern aloft; she could discern little else
about him as the intense light in her eyes obscured her vision.
“What do you want, woman?” The
man’s voice was a low growl.
Elizabeth drew a deep breath and
summoned her most imperious voice. She had come so far and she would not be
cowed by an obnoxious servant. “I seek an audience with Lord Rothsburgh. Is
your master at home?”
“What the deuce for?”
She immediately bristled at the
insolence in the man’s tone. “I’d have a care to mind your tongue, sir. And
lower that lantern. You’re hurting my eyes.”
The light was immediately
lowered, and Elizabeth was able to see a little more of the man who seemed to
be filling up the whole doorway. He must have been at least six foot four, with
black hair that fell across one eye. She also noted that he was informally
dressed in a loose, white cambric shirt that was open at the neck, black
breeches and boots. The marquess obviously had low standards when it came to
fitting out his staff in proper livery.
“Well, aren’t you going to invite
me in?” she demanded.
The man—she assumed he was some
sort of sloppy butler or footman—let out a snort of laughter. “What on earth
for?”
She scowled and drew herself up,
raising her chin. She would not be laughed at by the hired help. “I understand
there is a vacancy for a governess. I’ve come to offer my services to Lord
Rothsburgh.”
“Have you indeed?” There was
still an annoying undercurrent of laughter in the man’s voice. Nevertheless, he
stepped aside and made a grand sweeping gesture with his free hand. “Then by
all means, come in.”
Elizabeth picked up her skirts
and started to step forward when the toe of her boot caught on an unevenly laid
flagstone on the threshold. With an unlady-like squeal she pitched forward
toward the floor—until she was deftly caught about the waist by the vulgar
butler. With a gasp of half-shock, half-embarrassment she found her midriff was
bent across his muscular forearm, whilst her side was crushed roughly against
his wide chest. One of her hands had involuntarily fisted into the linen sleeve
of his shirt where underneath she could detect the bulk of a sizeable,
iron-hard bicep.
The scent of the man flooded her
senses; warm male, whisky and the tantalizing scent of exotically rich soap; it
reminded her of sandalwood, leather and a spicy note she couldn’t quite
place—perhaps it was cloves. She took all of this in within the instant that
she was suspended above the floor before the man righted her. She took a step
away, her cheeks flaming. “I’m so sorry, sir. How clumsy of me. And I’ve made
you all wet…Mr.…”
The man’s arm lingered across her
waist. Perhaps he thought she would fall again. She noticed he had dark eyes;
his gaze travelled over her face, studying her. She must look a sight.
“James,” he said, his eyes holding
hers. In the dim light she couldn’t work out if they were dark brown or black.
ABOUT AMY ROSE BENNETT
Amy Rose Bennett has always wanted to be a writer for as long as she can
remember. An avid reader with a particular love for historical romance, it
seemed only natural to write stories in her favorite genre. She has a passion for creating
emotion-packed—and sometimes a little racy—stories set in the Georgian and
Regency periods. Of course, her strong-willed heroines and rakish heroes always
find their happily ever after.
As an unpublished author, Amy has been a finalist in contests in both
Romance Writers of Australia and Romance Writers of America. In 2013 and 2014, she has achieved a place in
the top three of Romance Writers of Australia’s Emerald Award, and her debut
Regency romance novel—‘Lady Beauchamp’s Proposal’—was the winning entry in the
historical section of two Romance Writers of America Chapter Contests in
2013—the Chicago North Fire and Ice Contest and the San Francisco Heart to
Heart Contest.
Amy is happily married to her own Alpha male hero, has two beautiful
daughters, a rather loopy Rhodesian Ridgeback and a Devonshire Rex cat with
attitude. She is a Speech Pathologist, but is currently devoting her time to
her one other true calling—writing romance.
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