Minerva cleared her throat and smiled when the woman turned around to her. The clinking armbands, the long hair falling freely down her back, and her colourful dress were unmistakable.
“Good day to you, Marie-Rose,” Minerva said politely. “As you can see, your prophecy has come true.”
“Your Highness,” the Roma woman said and sank to her knees. Up until now, Minerva had never anticipated how triumphant a gesture of respect could be. “I never doubted it.”
“Did you come to collect your reward?”
To her surprise, Marie-Rose shook her head so vehemently that her black locks flew in all directions. “No,” she replied. “I just wanted to catch a glimpse of you and make sure that those shadows that darkened your fate have disappeared for good.”
Minerva did not really know what to say. A part of her wanted to believe that the woman was telling the truth, but the rational part of her nature remained sceptical.
Either way, Marie-Rose had not only been right in her prognosis about Minerva’s rise in social status, but she had also been correct in another part of her prophecy.
She raised her hands and removed the diamond encrusted earrings she was wearing. “These are for you,” Minerva said.
Majestically, Marie-Rose took the two pieces of jewellery into her hands and looked at them briefly, before she stuck them into her bodice. “That’s very generous of you,” she declared.
“Do not mention it.” Minerva played down the issue. She had the feeling that she owed fate something. Her family, particularly her mother, were doing well. Robert’s brother was on his way to recovery. She herself had found the man of her dreams, whom she loved and honoured.
She was aware that she had been very lucky, and earrings were just a small price to pay, to keep it that way. “Farewell,” she said to the woman and nodded towards her, before she turned around. She didn’t fancy hearing yet another prophecy.
Minerva called for Sally, who reluctantly left the coach driver behind, and asked her to bring her the notebook with the now finished novel. It just about fit into her little bag, and she wanted to use her honeymoon to begin her next book. She had finished Lady Marianne de Lacey’s story. In her new book, she wanted to try and honour Julianna’s memory by writing down her story – unrecognizable, yet with the visible, tangible truth behind the words. She wanted to make sure that the ghost they had heard crying at night, would become a spirit that was heard laughing on some nights instead.
The End
Dear Reader,
Are you wondering who the mysterious Lady Annabell Carlisle is, whom the duke called an “adventurous and imaginative young lady”? Then you might look forward to the next suspenseful Regency novel by Audrey Ashwood: “The Cold Earl’s Bride”, to be released in early 2020.
In the meanwhile, I am delighted to inform you about another publication: Please make the acquaintance of Grace Curtis in “To Steal a Duke’s Heart” and follow her exciting search for happiness and love. Grace sets her sights on handsome George Blackmore, the newly appointed Duke of Cromford. However, fate seems intent on keeping them apart. When the duke’s younger brother develops an interest in Grace’s friend, Grace is determined to bring the pair together so that she might see the Duke again – and steal his heart…
Find a short reading sample of both books on the next pages.
Would you like to stay informed about upcoming books in this series? Then please sign up for Audrey Ashwood’s release notifications here. You will receive a short message via email, as soon as the next book is available on Amazon. Perfect for everyone who doesn’t want to miss the next new publication. Subscribers will receive a chance to read them for free.
Yours,
Audrey Ashwood
Sneak Peek – The Cold Earl’s Bride
To be released in early 2020
They took everything away from him.
His reputation as an honourable gentleman.
His hope for peace.
His faith in love.
Nevertheless, there is one thing that nobody can take from the merciless Marcus St. John, Earl of Grandover – his desire to take revenge on the men who wish for his demise. He is so very close to identifying the mysterious mastermind who is pulling all the strings in the background.
But then he stumbles into a cleverly designed trap, where he is suddenly forced to marry a woman who is clearly an instrument of his enemy.
The longer the ruthless earl has to watch this foe in his own house, the greater his doubts become about the role she is playing. She is smart and beautiful, and somehow, she touches his innermost being in a way that had long since been forgotten. Is it possible that she has completely clouded his mind and confused his heart?
Just when he starts to believe that he can see through her clever little game, the cards are shuffled anew…
Mysterious – emotional – magical. The new romance novel by Audrey Ashwood is yet another book that takes place in the midst of the colourful Regency era. An ideal read for anyone who loves sentimental but courageous heroines, as well as confident and strong heroes.
Reading Sample
This was not good.
The two of them had plotted something. But what was it? The movement of the palm leaves across the room steered her attention back to Marcus St. John. He had stepped out from behind the leaves. Since Felicity and her viscount had distanced themselves from him a little, he had been forced to give up his hiding spot, if he did not want to lose sight of them. Just for a split second, her gaze met his. His piercing blue eyes sent a chill down Annabell’s spine. This man was cold, ruthless, and he was up to no good. But why was he so very interested in her sister? And why had nobody else noticed the Earl of Grandover’s rather strange behaviour?
Had Felicity secretly entranced St. John, who was now consumed by jealousy because he saw her dancing with the viscount? Annabell knew that her sister could be somewhat reckless, but she did not believe that Felicity would dally with two suitors at the same time. Then again, what did she know about the art of finding a husband?
Before she could think about it anymore, the musicians stopped their piece. The dance partners stopped moving and bowed towards each other. Normally, the viscount would have accompanied Felicity back to her mother’s care, but he did not do that. Annabell’s heart started to beat heavily within her chest as she saw Viscount Greywood manoeuvre her sister skilfully past all the other guests. He also managed to escape every single attempt to strike up a conversation. She stretched her neck to follow their path, but it would not be long before they would both be out of her sight.
Annabell looked over towards her mother, who was still engaged in a seemingly engrossing conversation with the vicomte. Where was her father? She definitely did not wish her father’s anger to be directed at her sister, but… thank goodness! Annabell thought in frustration, he was nowhere to be seen. She tried everything she could to not lose the two conspirators – which is what they undoubtedly were in her eyes – from her sight. If she were to go over to her mother and wait patiently until the duchess deemed it appropriate to interrupt her conversation with the vicomte, Felicity and the viscount would be long gone.
Her eyes darted towards her left. The darkly-dressed figure of St. John seemed to melt into the shadows. If it had not been for his light-coloured and slightly too long hair, she most certainly would not have seen him. The earl had also taken it upon himself to follow the two.
Annabell ducked her head towards a servant, who was offering refreshments. Her throat felt as dry as the desert, but she had no time to down a glass of expensive champagne. Apart from the fact that it was not very becoming for a lady at a social gathering such as this to drink like a drunk in a tavern, she also did not dare to drink even one drop of alcohol. Especially not now that she needed a clear head to save her sister from making a huge mistake.
This she was absolutely certain of: Felicity did not have anything intelligent on her mind right now and the viscount even les
s so than her.
Annabell pushed through the throng, almost relentlessly, which would have caused her mother to reprimand her, but at this point, she did not care about that. Her stomach was in knots as she saw the viscount’s dark hair and her sister’s reddish-blonde curls disappearing towards the garden. In hindsight, Annabell was even angrier at herself, than at her sister. The signs had been obvious. Tonight, Felicity had chosen her most boring and practical dress. It also happened to be the darkest coloured dress she could find. That way it would be so much easier to disappear into the night with the viscount. Annabell’s heart raced. She simply had to prevent her sister from making a grave mistake!
Outside on the terrace, the cold of the British spring evening embraced her. In one spot, where there was a small piece of bare skin between the dress and the glove, unsightly goose bumps were immediately raised. How could she have been so stupid! While running down the stairs from the terrace, and stumbling after the eloping love birds, she remembered her sister’s mood swings over the last few weeks. Felicity had been either overly happy or extremely sad, which Annabell now decided were the typical signs of seriously falling in love, even though she had never experienced it herself. It was thus – if the poets were to be believed. Annabell turned around to face the gradually dimming sound of voices in the house, but nobody seemed to have noticed her hasty exit into the garden. At least that was one thing that had not gone wrong. On the other hand, who would even care if her reputation was ruined? Annabell herself did not even care that much.
The two figures before her seemed to melt more and more into the darkness in the centre of the garden with each step. Annabell did not even try to mute her steps behind them, and she saw that her sister had hesitated and turned around. Annabell was almost certain that she saw a silent plea in Felicity’s eyes or at least doubt, but that was, of course, nonsense and nothing other than wishful thinking on her behalf. With this much distance between them, and in the dark, it was impossible for her to make out more than just general movements. The viscount slowed his steps and spoke insistently to Felicity. Her sister’s posture expressed hesitation. Then Rupert Greywood stepped so close to her that both of them blurred into a seemingly single shapeless figure right before Annabell’s eyes. She thought that she could see the viscount looking in her direction, and it was almost as if he needed to assure himself that she was still there, before they continued on their way.
She was extremely relieved that she was not wearing voluminous skirts or a tightly laced corset, which would have made the pursuit even more difficult. Obviously, fate decided to quite literally throw a stone into her path at that moment, because Annabell stumbled and almost fell onto her knees. She stood up and looked in the direction where she had last seen the pair.
Felicity and the viscount had disappeared as if they had fallen through the face of the earth.
* * *
St. John cursed silently as he watched Greywood with this young woman, who seemed to have just stumbled out of her nursery, as they disappeared into the garden. Even in his thoughts, he refused him his noble title, which was obviously wasted on such a worthless fellow as Greywood, at least as far as he was concerned. This damned man was his only lead, and he had hoped that tonight he would be able to follow him to one of his meetings. However, at this moment, Greywood seemed more interested in seducing this girl than working on his other, much darker plans. One day his lawlessness would lead to Greywood’s demise.
An idea shot through Marcus’s head, but he did not have enough time right now, and all he could do was memorise it for later. The bastard was attempting to disappear. The chance that Marcus would achieve his goal tonight was out of the question, thanks to this girl, but he wanted to make sure nonetheless. He decided to follow them unobtrusively anyway. Maybe he would see or hear something that he would be able to use later. He could still feel the gaze of the young woman who had also been hiding and watching the two lovebirds from a distance. The shock he had felt when he first saw her was still vibrating through his body. For a split second, he had thought that he was seeing a ghost, sent to him by some vengeful god. Her hair, her mannerisms, and the way she observed her surroundings so attentively and with barely noticeable amazement – even her controlled gestures reminded him of the woman who… He shook his head, angry at himself, and it took everything in him to push those painful memories away.
If he had not known better, he would have believed that she had also come here to watch Greywood. But she was much too calm and collected for a potentially jealous former lover. In addition, although the muted colour of her dress and her young pale face were extremely attractive, this rather noticeable contrast would not be something a secret observer would have chosen. Only when he noticed the worry written all over her face, did he realise that it was the young girl whom she was most interested in. For a moment, Marcus was distracted by his pity for this woman. The girl on Greywood’s arm was as good as lost, even if she and her female guardian did not know it yet.
He watched her, as her chestnut brown hair, which was styled slightly out of fashion, finally disappeared into the massive crowd of heads, and then he continued his pursuit of the viscount. To his left, he saw Lady Wetherby almost running towards him, with her two daughters in tow. Without hesitation, Marcus took a sharp turn, nodded towards the Duke of Titchfield, and then followed Greywood out onto the terrace. The restless flickering of the outside torches made it almost impossible to focus on anything, but he managed to make out the waving seam of the dress before its wearer once again disappeared into the shadows.
Just as he had suspected, Greywood was leading the girl towards the stables. This suggested two conclusions, Marcus thought, as he followed as silently as he could. Greywood either wanted to seduce the girl right there, or he planned to take her to one of his doss houses and take his time with her. He was not a man who cared much about discretion. If he felt like it, he would simply find a corner somewhere inside the stables, and if someone were watching, then he would not care less. Whatever the case, it was not his – St. John’s – task to prevent any of it, nor was there anything he was able to do without giving up his hiding spot.
Some leaves rustled behind him, but when he turned around, he could not see anything that could have caused the noise. Calm down, he told himself. It was impossible that one of his enemies had followed him here. He had taken every possible precaution to remain unnoticed.
A subtle movement showed him the way to continue. However, instead of moving towards the stables, away from the main house, as he had suspected, the two turned right and made their way deeper into the garden. One of his friends had once called him “overly cautious to an almost absurd magnitude,” but tonight this caution would serve him well. He had memorised the floor plan of the house and its surrounding parks, just to be prepared for any situation. This was the reason that he now suspected that he knew where Greywood was going. In the centre of the garden was a pavilion, which was perfect for what he was planning to do.
Marcus stood still. Now that he was almost sure that Greywood was only interested in an amorous pursuit, he knew that he might as well just turn around and wait for the bastard to come back. So, what was it that made him follow the pair even further? Up until now, it had always served him well to trust his instincts, and he decided again, this time, to do just that. After a short moment of internal debate, he stepped from the gravel path onto the grass to dampen the sound of his steps. The moonlight broke through the clouds only sporadically, which worked as much in his favour as it worked against him. However, since he did not change old habits easily, he had dressed once again in rather dark clothing, which made him virtually invisible.
He started to move forward. In moments like these, his long years of experience of working in the shadows was an enormous advantage, since it allowed him to separate his body and his mind. Searching his surroundings for anything unusual, while making cold-blooded, quick decisions had always helped him to survive. Once more he thou
ght he heard a noise that did not seem to fit with this night and his surroundings. Still, his eyes did not see anything that would have made him feel uneasy.
Finally, he could make out the shape of the pavilion in the darkness. Only a few steps separated him from his target. While he was thinking about how close he would be able to get to these two, and also about how odd it was that the woman in Greywood’s arms did not make a sound at all, the hairs on his neck stood up. But it was already too late. He bounced against something soft, which he immediately recognised as female breasts that had been laced up only scandalously loosely. Before Marcus could wonder about the reason for his displeasure, he felt a burning sensation on his cheek. A tender hand in a white glove pulled back, but not fast enough for him.
His fingers enclosed the tiny wrist, and he ignored the protesting and the painful scream as he pulled the woman towards him. “What have you done with my sister? Where is Felicity?” a voice, which under normal circumstances could have sounded rather pleasant, hissed into his ear. Now, under the vibrating alto, he could hear only two things: fury and fear.
Once more the memories hit him with full force. What he heard was a similar sounding female voice, which belonged to a different time and a different place.
“Be still,” he ordered as he listened to the darkness. Most likely, her scream had already alerted Greywood, but he still wanted to avoid any extra attention. He knew that all the gossip and the stories about his transgressions, as well as the rumours about his past, had given him a rather dubious reputation. However, an attentive observer would almost certainly ask the question why Marcus had run out into the gardens at all.
“I do not think so,” the strange woman replied defiantly. “Not until you have told me where Felicity is.”
Miss Honeyfield and the Dark Duke: A Regency Romance Novel Page 21