Devil's Run Scandalous Miss Brightwell series
By Beverley Oakley
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A rigged horse race - and a marriage offer riding on the outcome. When Miss Eliza Montrose unexpectedly becomes legal owner of the horse tipped to win the East Anglia Cup, her future is finally in her hands â but at what cost?
George Bramley, nephew to the Earl of Quamby, will wager anything. Even his future bride.
Miss Eliza Montrose will accept any wager to be reunited with the child she was forced to relinquish after an indiscretion â even if it means marrying a man she does not love.
But when the handsome and charming Rufus Patmore buys a horse from her betrothed, George Bramley, whose household her son visits from the foundling home, her heart is captured and the outcome of the wager is suddenly fraught with peril.
**This is book 3 in the Scandalous Miss Brightwell series, though it can be read as a stand-alone.
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Excerpt:
This excerpt begins after Eliza has just plunged into the lake to rescue three drowning children and their nanny. Having dragged them â and herself â to shore, she makes a shocking discovery.
Chapter Two
Eliza had forgotten what it felt like to enjoy a manâs attention. Heâd started to dry her in a vigorous attempt to warm her but then his touch gentled and he simply stared down at her.
The wonder in his eye as he murmured words of praise was a rare sensation. Embarrassed, she turned away. Yes, turned away because she could not afford to be so obviously disquieted by another man when she was affianced to George Bramley who stood a few feet away from her. He was also staring but there was no softness in his countenance.
Hoping to avoid any more gestures of admiration or kindness from Mr Patmore, Eliza politely extricated herself and put out her hand to arrest the progress of the Foundling Home lad whom Nanny Brown was pursuing with a piece of dry linen.
His impish grin reminded her of young Miss Katherineâs, Lady Fentonâs daughter. Clearly the two had had a great adventure unlike Young George who was lying on his stomach upon the grass, shaking with sobs.
âDid you drink a lot of water, Young George?â Eliza asked, looking down at the crying boy but he ignored her. âI said we shouldnât go out! I said!â He pounded his fists. âNo one ever listens to what I say!â
Eliza shared a wry smile with the rather lovely Mr Patmore whom she found still staring at her but, as he looked about to approach her again, she turned her back on him and instead brought the Foundling Home boy to stand in front of her now that sheâd succeeded in catching him. Eliza would not have Mr Bramley â or anyone else â accuse her of encouraging the attentions of a man not her betrothed.
âJack â thatâs your name, isnât it? Well, youâll have something to tell them back at the Foundling Home.â Sheâd seen him only from a distance and now, mud bespattered and with his hair matted over his forehead it was difficult to make out his features though she knew from various anecdotes that young Jack distinguished himself for keeping Miss Katherineâs wilfulness in check and peace between Katherine and her cousin, Young George.
Jack stood obediently before her as he started to wring out his threadbare shirt. âNah, Iâm fine, mâlady,â he said, glancing up to reveal a pair of small white teeth in a freckled face. âBut thanks for savinâ me, anâ all.â
Eliza was about to let him go. Releasing her grip a second later might have changed the course of her life, she thought later that evening, and perhaps it would have been better if she had. Why repeat the trauma sheâd already experienced?
But for now she was acting on instinct and instead of letting him go when it would have seemed natural, her grip on his wrist tightened while the air in her lungs disappeared, and she had to open and close her eyes three times before she was ready to believe what she saw.
âGideon?â There seemed still no air to say his name. A great pressure was building in her head. Finally she was able to gasp in a breath, forcing herself to resist the urge to draw him into her embrace and wail her joy.
And pain.
How many other boys of seven years sported a tiny extra claw on their left hand? Or had been thrust into the cold, unloving world of the Foundling Home, she thought bitterly.
He stopped what he was doing to look at her uncomprehendingly and she added faintly, âThough thatâs not what they call you, of course.â
An amused look crossed his face, making him look older and wiser than his seven years. Nearby, the weeping and wailing George was a puling infant. Smiling at her was a little man.
He pushed out his chest and said in a tone that was neither boastful nor self pitying, âThereâs some âat call me Devilâs Cub, or bastard, but at the manor here they call me Jack.â
Devilâs Cub? The sixth finger accounted for the nickname, of course.
âMiss Montrose?â In the distance, Lady Fenton was calling her. Eliza was suddenly shaking like one suffering the ague. âJack,â she repeated in a whisper, still staring at him as she clenched her own fists. Was the child tormented by his deformity? It looked as if not much troubled him though Eliza couldnât remember how many times Eliza had been told the sixth finger was Godâs punishment upon her bastard babe.
âMiss Montrose! Come away! Susan is waiting in the house with a warm bath and blankets. You must be chilled to the bone!â
Vaguely, she could hear the sounds of concern all around her but all Eliza could focus on was the impish face before her: that of her lost child.
~*~*~*~*~*~ Author Info:
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Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.
Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someoneâs honour â or a worthy damsel from the noose â itâs time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.
Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.
You can get in contact with Beverley at:
NOTE FROM CONNIE:
Here are the line ups for the month of August. Note that if you visit each blog and leave a comment, I'll enter your name for a chance to win a $5.00 gift certificate of your choice - Amazon or Barnes & Noble. If I have 10 authors who blogged in August, and you leave a comment on all 10 blogs, I'll enter your name 10 times for a chance to win. Check back often, as I will update and add more authors as they sign up. August 4 Summer of Seduction Anthology August 7 Ann Everett August 8 Diana Rubino August 9 Ayla Ruse August 10 JJ Montgomery August 11 Janice O'Hara August 14 Barbara White-Daille August 15 Patricia Preston August 16 Beverly Oakley August 17 Caris Roane August 18 Zara West âAugust 21 Monique DeVere August 23 Adrian Kraft August 29 Izzy Szyn August 30 Ayla Ruse
4 Comments
Alicia Dean
8/16/2017 05:37:24 pm
Sounds like an emotional read. What a lovely cover! Best wishes!
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8/16/2017 08:01:09 pm
sounds like a really good book!
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