Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection
Page 84
Adelante Sp. Onwards
A demain Fr. Until tomorrow
Adieu Fr. Goodbye
Af Odin! D. By Odin!
Afon Dyfrdwy W. River Dee
Ahora Sp. Now
Aingeal IG Angel
Alaunt gentil Fr. Breed of hound
À l’Irelande! Fr. To Ireland!
Allons-y! Fr. Let’s go!
Alto! Sp. Stop!
Amici I. friends
Amour Fr. Love
Ange Fr. Angel
Anoche Sp. Last night
Ap (or Ab) W. Son of
Arrête Fr. Stop!
Arthrite Fr. Arthritis
Auf Weidersehen G. Goodbye
Au revoir Fr. Goodbye
Au secours! Fr. help!
Aux armes! Fr. To arms!
Ave Maria, gratia plena L. Hail Mary, full of grace
Barm OE. Yeast
Basta Sp. Enough!
Bella I. Beautiful one
Bébé Fr. Baby
Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus L. Blessed be Almighty God
Benedicti L. Blessed
Bien Fr. Good
Bienvenidos Sp. Welcome
Bienvenu(e) Fr. Welcome
Bliaut Fr. Medieval long sleeved dress
Brychan W. Woven blanket
Cairdis IG Friendship
Camilla Sp. Litter, stretcher
Camino Sp. Road, way
Céard sa diabhal IG What the devil!
Ceilliau W. Testicles,
C’est moi Fr. It’s me.
Chansons courtoises Fr. Courtly love songs
Cisoires Fr. scissors
Codex L. journal
Cog -type of ship
Colonus, pl. Coloni L. Bondservants, later known as serfs
Commote W. area of administration in Wales
Comte Fr. Count
Comtesse Fr. Countess
Corre! Sp. Run!
Couilles Fr. Testicles
Críost IG Christ!
Croeso-i W. Welcome
Cuirass(e) Fr. Breastplate armor
Currach IG coracle
Cú G.Dog
Cymru W. Wales
Cymraeg W. Welsh language
Da Dad, father
Dadaidh S. Daddy
Dañjer! Breton word for danger
Demesne Fr. Estate
Demoiselle Fr. Miss, unmarried woman
De rien Fr. You are welcome
Derrière Fr. Bottom, backside
Dewch yn W. Come in
Dia IG God!
Dieu Fr. God
Dios Sp. God
Ddoe W. Yesterday
Dormitorio Sp. Dormitory
Dors bien Fr. Sleep well
Draugr D. Revenant, lost soul
Droit de seigneur Fr. right of a nobleman to take a virgin before her husband on their wedding night
Dros Cymru W. For Wales
Duw W. God
Duwiau W. Gods!
Dwale OE medieval drug for pain (see note below)
Eke OE. Extra chamber added to the bottom of a beehive
El Diablo Sp. The Devil
Enceinte Fr. Pregnant
Enchanté Fr. Enchanted; delighted
Enfant Fr. Child. Mes enfants=my children
En route Fr. On the way
Entrez! Fr. Come in!
Epiphany Revelation; showing;
Esches Fr. Chess
Et L. And
Exactement Fr. Exactly
Excusez-moi Fr. Excuse me, I am sorry
Fág an bealach! IG Clear the way
Faol G. Wolf
Fardeles Sp. Pigs’ livers
Fils Fr. Son
Fortæl mig D. Tell me
Foutaise Fr. Shit
Fromage cremeux Fr. Cream cheese
Fy Nuw W. My God
Gaeilge Gaelic
Garderobe Fr. Latrines, privy
Ghiniúna IG male genitalia
Godemite OE. Saxon expletive, God Almighty
God hund D. Good dog
Godisgood OE. Yeast
Go hÉirinn IG To Ireland!
Gottes segen G. Godspeed
Gott sei Dank G. Thanks be to God
Gracias Sp. Thank you
Gräfin G. Countess
Grandmaman Fr. Grandma
Grandpère...Fr. Grandfather
Gut! G. Good!
Hackle OE. Conical shaped protection for beehives
Hallowmas Triduum Three day celebration of Hallowe’en, All Saints’ & All Souls’
Hermano Sp. Brother
Hore OE whore
Ich bin es G. It’s me.
Ich liebe dich G. I love you
Il Papa I. Pope
Ja G. Yes
Jardin Fr. Garden
Je m’excuse Fr. I am sorry
Je t’aime Fr. I love you
Je vous demande pardonne Fr. I beg your forgiveness
Jongleur Fr. Minstrel, juggler, medieval entertainer
Kitgut OE catgut
Kommen G. Come!
Knarr D. Merchant ship used by Vikings
Labhandair IG Lavender
Laks D. Smoked salmon
Lamellar Armour made of leather plates
Là Fr. There
Le Bon Dieu Fr. The good Lord
Lentement Fr. Slowly
Le roi est mort Fr. The king is dead
Léine S. Shirt worn by men and women (Gaelic)
Liebling G. Sweetheart, darling
Livre Fr. Old French currency unit
Lladrones Sp. Thieves
Llys W. (plural Llysoed) A building that served as a royal court for a commote in Wales.
Ma chère Fr. My dear
Majestad Sp. Majesty
Majesté Fr. Majesty
Mal de mer Fr. seasickness
Mamá Sp. Mother (affectionate)
Maman Fr. Mother (affectionate)
Mantilla Sp. Lacy head covering
Ma petite Fr. My little one
Mea culpa L. My fault; I take the blame
Méchant Fr. Naughty
Meine damen und herren G. Ladies and gentlemen
Mein Gott G. My God!
Mein Schatz G. My darling, my sweetheart
Meine Tochter G. My daughter
Merci Fr. Thank you
Merde Fr. Swear word; shit;crap;damn it
Mère Fr. Mother
Meth OE. ordinary mead
Metheglin OE. Spiced mead (for nobility)
Mi amor Sp. My love
Mignonne Fr. Little one
Milagro Sp. Miracle
Milord Fr. My lord
Minnesinger G. Minstrel
Misericord L. Chamber where monks received their punishment for misdeeds
Mistiltan OE mistletoe
Mo croí IG My heart
Mo mhac S. My son
Mo nighean S. My daughter
Mon capitaine a tombé Fr. My captain has fallen
Mon petit Fr. little one
Mon seigneur Fr. My lord
Mo stór IG my darling
Motte Fr. Raised part of early Norman fortifications
Muette Fr. Feminine version of muet=mute
Nein G. No
Nej D. No
Noblesse Fr. Nobility
Oes W. Yes
Oncle Fr. Uncle
Oreillons Fr. Mumps
Oubliette Fr. a small cell where prisoners were forgotten Fr. Oublier=to forget
Oui Fr. Yes
Pacharán Sp. Sloe liqueur
Padre I. Priest
Parbleu Fr. Good heavens
Parler Fr. To speak, discuss
Pauvre Fr. Poor
Pax L. Peace
Perdóname Sp. Forgive me
Père Fr. Father
Peregrinati L. Pilgrims
Petit baiser Fr. a little kiss
Phoques Fr. Seals
Pik D. Shaft, manhood
Plantagenista L. Broom plant
Playd S. Woven garment, not tartan (came much later); o
ften brown
Potel OE medieval stoppered container
Porquería Sp. Filth
Por supuesto Sp. Of course
Prie-Dieu Fr. Kneeler, prayer stool
Que diable! Fr. What the devil!
Rebec medieval stringed instrument
Refugio Sp. Place of refuge, shelter
Regarde Fr. Look!
Reina Madre Sp. Queen Mother
Rex L. King
Rien Fr. Nothing
Rundlet OE. small barrel or cask
Rute G. Shaft, manhood
Rwy’n Cymraes W. I am a Welshwoman
Rwy’n dy garu di W. I love you
Salaud Fr. Bastard
Schwarze ritter G. Black Knight
Sea IG You are right
Seigneur Fr. Lord
Selkie Seal that has become human
Seneschal Fr. Senior officer, seneschal
Shamshir -curved Arabic sword
Sieg G. Victory
S’il te plaît Fr. If you please
Siwrne dda W. Good journey
Sí Sp. Yes
Sjaund D. Ritualistic funeral ale in Norse inheritance traditions
Skep OE. Man made beehive made of straw
Soeur Fr. Sister
Soule Fr. Medieval game involving kicking and hitting balls
Soyez les bienvenues Fr. Welcome, ladies
Sølje D. Traditional Norse silver brooch
Stridsøkse D. battle axe
Sunt L. They are
Sûrement Fr. surely.
Tá grá agam duit IG I love you
Tais-toi Fr. Be quiet, silence.
Tante Fr. Aunt
Tant pis! Fr. Too bad
Tarse OE. Male genitals
Tendresse Fr. Tenderness; “soft spot”
Tiarna IG Lord
Trouzes breeches, trousers
Truite Fr. Trout
Turaid S. Tower (Gaelic)
Tutto bene I. All is well
Ty bach W. Latrines
Uisce beatha IG whiskey
Verch W. Daughter of
Vite Fr. Quickly
Vive la reine Fr. Long live the Queen
Vous parlez francais? Fr. Do you speak French?
Walhaz- derogatory Saxon term meaning foreign; the word Welsh derived from it
Willkommen G. Welcome
Windlass hoisting mechanism with a crank handle, e.g. to hoist a bucket from a well
Yr Arglwydd W. My lord
Zut Fr. Expletive. Darn it.
FAMILY TREE
ENCHANTED BY THE EARL
AMANDA MARIEL
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Chapter 1
London 1813
The creak of carriage wheels pulled Rose’s attention away from the garden, where, kneeling in the beds, she inspected the bright blooms she had tended all spring. Lady Julia Thorne’s elegant barouche pulled to a stop outside the cottage Rose shared with her elderly grandmother. Heartbeat accelerating, Rose stood and dusted her hands on her apron, leaving streaks of dirt behind.
A tall gentleman with raven hair and eyes the shade of the mid-summer sky stood near the open carriage door. Rose caught herself staring at the strong lines of his jaw as he handed her client, Lady Julia, down from the carriage.
Her pulse quickened as her visitors drew nearer. She kept her gaze on the gentleman--he was the handsomest she had ever beheld. When he looked her way, Rose's cheeks burned at being caught ogling him so unabashedly. Lady Julia smiled as Rose approached. “Miss Woodcourt, I’ve come to select the cloth for my new frocks. Did you manage to get the samples I requested?”
“I called upon the linen-drapers on Cheapside yesterday,” Rose returned cheerfully. She was always glad to see Lady Julia, who had become much more to her than a client. “Please come in.” Walking up the front walk to her home, she pulled open the weathered door.
Lady Julia moved past her in a swish of green organdy. Her companion stopped on the old plank-board porch. “I’ll wait here if it is all the same to you, miss.” His breathtaking grin revealed straight white teeth.
Rose stared, awestruck by his good looks. The door handle slid from her palm, causing the door to slam. She jumped at the noise, her nerve endings crackling.
He pulled the wooden panel back open, blue eyes twinkling. “Allow me, miss.”
Warmth flooded Rose’s cheeks as she took a step toward the opening. A flush spread to her neck. Taking a breath she inhaled his heady aroma of clover and sage.
“What is your name, miss?”
“Rose Woodcourt.” She glanced at his hand and noticed a signet ring glinting upon his finger. She quickly added, “my lord.”
Of course he was a lord and she a bird-witted fool for reacting so strongly to him. It would best serve her to remember her place in society. Lords did not go about courting common misses. They dallied with them until they grew bored, tossing them aside when the affair no longer held their interest. Rose’s indignation stirred at memories of poor Annie. A rakish earl cast her old friend away after he had gotten her with child. Abandoned and afraid, Annie came to Rose for help. But alas, there was nothing to be done. Annie died bringing forth that odious man’s son.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Woodcourt.” He offered a smile. “I am Hunter Thorne, Earl of Aubry.”
Rose dropped into a low curtsy, holding his gaze. Try as she might, she could not stop looking at him.
A ball of nerves unfurled in her stomach as she accepted his offered hand. A moment later, she pulled her hand free. “Excuse me, Lord Aubry, but Lady Julia is waiting.”
Upon entering her workroom, she found Lady Julia perched on a faded high-back chair. The sweet aroma of fresh bread wafting through the cottage, coupled with the teacup in Lady Julia’s hand, told Rose her grandmother had seen to Lady Julia’s comfort before returning to the kitchen. “Please forgive my disheveled state. I am afraid I lost track of time.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Shall we?” Lady Julia smiled.
Rose hurried to her shelves and scooped up several bundles of cloth. “Yes, of course. Here are samples for your consideration.” She placed the pile on her sewing table. “The linen-draper assures me these are the newest available. Some came directly from the Orient.”
Rose watched Lady Julia lift a swatch of blue organdy. The very shade of Lord Aubry’s eyes. The pair shared the same eye color and shade of hair, the same smile. Were they related? As hope set its hooks in Rose’s heart, she cast away her fancies. She should banish him from her mind lest she wind up like poor Annie. “What a lovely shade, my lady.”
Gran’s voice rang out from the entryway. “I said you shan’t disturb Rose. Mr. Wolfe, you mustn’t go in there.”
Good heavens! That reprobate, Dewitt Wolfe, had darkened her stoop again. Would he never leave her in peace?
“Please excuse me for a moment, Lady Julia.” With her heart thumping, Rose moved to the door. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She had broken their betrothal and made her position clear. Yet he refused to accept her decision.
Mr. Wolfe stopped mid-step. Gran came just short of colliding into his backside. “Ah, there you are, my dear.” His mouth twisted into a grin. “I have come to--”
Frustrated beyond reason, Rose forgot she had company. She cut him short, speaking sharper than she intended. “I know why you have come. You need not go on. I have given you my answer.” As she stared into his beady brown eyes, her stomach roiled. “I will not marry you, Mr. Wolfe.”
Flashing a tight smile, Wolfe marched toward her, his du
ll brown hair disheveled and sticking out from under his tall beaver hat. “You will marry me.” He reached into his pocket and whipped out a folded document. “I had hoped you would not force my hand thusly.” He held the folded parchment out to her, his darkened gaze bored into hers. “The unpaid mortgage to this humble dwelling, my dear. Should you refuse to wed me, I will sell your home out from under you.”
Rose grabbed the document, peeled it open, and scanned the print. Her stomach rolled over, and a knot formed in her throat. She crumpled the parchment in her fist before glaring at him. “You cannot. This is nothing but a trick. Papa paid off the mortgage years ago.”
“I can and I shall.”
Something sinister flickered in his eyes. His stony glare sent a chill through her bloodstream.
“Do not allow this brute to force your hand, Rose,” Gran said, dabbing her eyes. “All will be fine. Even if we lose the cottage, we will find a way.” Gran shook her head, freeing a few strands of graying auburn hair loose from her bun.
Oh, how Rose wished that were so. But the cottage was all she had left of her childhood and her parents, after the carriage accident that claimed their lives. How could Mr. Wolfe gain proof of an unpaid debt that had been settled years ago? She sucked in a breath and squared her shoulders.
“I will prove this is a farce. My answer is still no. I will not marry you. Please leave us in peace.”
When she turned to walk away, he caught her arm, spinning her back to face him.
“The document is legal,” he sneered. “Your dear father never finished paying his debt. I own this cottage due to the breach of this contract.” He stepped closer. “You should be thanking me for saving you from debtors’ prison.”
She jerked her arm free and took a step back from him. Looking up into his cold dark eyes, she mustered all of her courage. “Mr. Wolfe, let me be clear. I will never marry you.” Not backing down from his glare, she straightened herself and lifted her chin. “Leave my home at once, Mr. Wolfe.” Rose stood her ground and fought her tears. She refused to allow Mr. Wolfe to see how upset he made her.
“I would be happy to do so…as soon as you agree to become my wife.”
Lord Aubry stepped up behind him. “I am certain Miss Woodcourt asked you to leave the premises, sir.”
His rich voice wrapped around Rose like a warm shawl on an icy night. Her limbs tingled in response, as she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She could not cry in front of them. She would perish of embarrassment if she did.
Without changing his facial sneer, he bit out his retort. “Who are you to give me orders?” Mr. Wolfe spun to face Lord Aubry. His shoulders slumped as he dropped into a bow. “Forgive me, my lord. I am afraid you came upon a private matter and tempers are high.” He straightened before tossing a glance over his shoulder at Rose, his lips pressed into a tight line.