Authors: Cynthia Wright
It was still early when the white columns of West Hills appeared on the horizon, rising over the bare treetops. The yellow carriage was right behind him as he cantered down the drive.
Priscilla stood on the veranda, looking attractively nervous. The robe of her emerald green silk gown was parted to reveal a pale muslin underskirt tiered with narrow ruffles, while her lovely breasts curved above the low, round neckline. Only a woven shawl protected her from the crisp February air and she took care that it was held open across her bodice. As Lion came toward her she smiled at him coquettishly, dropping her eyes when he raised her soft white hand to his lips.
"You are looking exceedingly lovely this morning, Miss Wade. I am honored by this personal welcome!"
His eyes lingered on her bosom in a way that made her blush, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks. "You are too kind, Captain Hampshire... but now that we're betrothed, won't you call me Priscilla?"
He grinned. "Nothing would please me more. Now—are you ready to leave? Where are your things?"
Flustered, she hurried past him into the marble entry hall. A large assortment of trunks and boxes filled the area, and Lion let out a low whistle, at the sight.
"Ah—Priscilla, I was not able to bring an extra wagon for the baggage due to the weather, and I fear that if we attempt to load all of these onto my carriage, the wheels would sink out of sight in the mud!"
Her expression was horrified. "Sir, I hope you are not suggesting that we leave any of my possessions behind! I was given to understand that I could bring whatever I wished!"
Lion raised an eyebrow coldly, deciding that his fiancée was beginning to resemble a petulant child. "That, my charmer, was before I realized that you owned more possessions than even one of my ships could carry!"
"How insufferably rude you are!" she shrilled.
"Perhaps you had better become accustomed to it or else cease your spoiled tirades. Now, if you still want to travel to Philadelphia, I suggest that you choose two of those trunks and one bandbox. Anything else you need I will purchase for you after we arrive."
She bit off her next complaint as a vision of the fashionable dress shops in America's largest city flashed in her mind. Suddenly her face was sweet and lovely again as she edged closer to Lion until he could smell the heady scent of magnolia that clung to her. "I really must apologize for my behavior, Captain Hampshire. Why, if Mama were alive, she'd thrash me for speaking that way to you! I can't imagine what came over me. I certainly wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression of your future wife!"
"Don't worry," he replied with an ironic smile, "I won't form any inaccurate opinions."
Her crimson lips were turned up to him and Lion took his cue, lightly tipping her chin back with a lean finger. Priscilla closed her eyes, waiting, and was surprised to feel his mouth touch hers so lightly that for a moment she thought she had imagined it. Hesitantly she peeked out from under long lashes and found Lion smiling down at her in an odd way. There was a frost in his eyes that confused and vaguely frightened her.
Removing his hand from her chin, he inquired, "Where is your brother? We should say our farewells and be on our way."
Priscilla flushed, stammering in a false, high voice, "Well, it is quite the most peculiar thing! He seems to have eaten something at breakfast which did not agree with him and has taken to his bed!"
Lion watched her closely, raising an eyebrow. "It is fortunate that you were not similarly afflicted."
"Yes!" She glanced around agitatedly, half expecting James to recover from his sabotaged meal and appear on the stairs to find her out.
"Where is your maid? Call her so that we may take our leave."
He went outside to summon the coachman to help with the trunks and Meagan popped out from behind the highboy in the parlor. She wore a demure gray dress and matching pelisse, giggling softly with excitement as she pulled the hood over her black curls.
"What a marvelous adventure this is! I am looking forward to practicing this small deception on your self-assured fiancé!"
Priscilla was wild-eyed. "It will never work! He will know—"
"Not if you can manage to collect your wits and stop acting so guilty! Besides, what does it matter to him who your
maid
is so long as you have one?"
Lion came through the door then and Meagan immediately stared at her feet, assuming an attitude of meek subservience.
"I thought I told you to call your maid," he said sharply. "What trunks have you decided on?"
In her panic Priscilla pointed to two of them at random, then hurried over to Meagan's side. For a moment Meagan feared she might attempt to hide behind her. Lion stared at the two of them while the coachman carried out the cowhide trunks.
"What the devil is going on here? Where is your maid?"
"H-here," Priscilla gasped and Meagan wanted to pinch her.
He strode across the floor to peer at her, then drew off the hood on her pelisse. The long black hair spilled down her back and recognition sparked in Lion's eyes.
"It's you!"
"Romance the way it was meant to be," raves Kathe Robin of Romantic Times Magazine about Cynthia Wright's 13 "classic" historical romances.
A reader says: "Her warm, adventurous, loving stories match Kathleen Woodiwiss in sensuality, but have a wholesome sweetness and zest all their own."
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Cynthia Wright launched her career as a bestselling novelist with the publication of CAROLINE, when she was twenty-three. She went on to write 12 more beloved and acclaimed historical romances set in Colonial America, Regency England & America, Medieval England & France, and the American West. Seven of these, the intertwined Raveneau Novels and Beauvisage Novels, have special places on the keeper shelves of readers around the world.
Cynthia's novels have won many awards from Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur, but her favorites are messages from readers like this one: "Your books show love the way you want your own relationship to be: real AND romantic!" After taking a break from writing for several years, Cynthia is excited to be back as an "indie" author, bringing all 13 of her novels back as eBooks (newly edited, with gorgeous new covers!). She will also release a new Raveneau novel, TEMPEST, in 2012.
Today, Cynthia lives in northern California with her husband, Alvaro, in a 1930's Spanish cottage. When they aren't riding their tandem road bike or traveling in their 1959 vintage airstream, she loves spending time with her family, especially her two young grandsons. Cynthia is also a college student who says, "It's never too late to re-write the story of your own life!" Cynthia invites readers to join her at her website:
cynthia-wright.com
And on Facebook:
www.facebook.com/cynthiawrightauthor
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