Historical romance/romantic suspense, CALL ME DUCHESS is the second novel of the Windword Trilogy.
To be released by Eternal Press - January, 2011
Grippingly suspenseful and romantic, CALL ME DUCHESS, is a stunning, young woman’s journey to find love in 1870 London while a dashingly handsome chaperone, a heinous villain, and her own lofty aspirations stand in her way. Left penniless by their father, Marguerite Wiggins and her sisters must find husbands during the London season or work as governesses by season’s end.
Determined to become the next Duchess of Wallingford, Marguerite is a woman in love who must make the difficult decision between following her heart or attaining her lifetime dreams and ambitions as a depraved rapist seeks to make her his next victim.
When the stranger turned around, a soft gasp escaped her as she recognized him immediately. His features were hard and chiseled, just as she remembered. He was to be her chaperone—him?
Ashton James’ eyes grew openly amused once he recognized her. With a wry smile, he strolled forward and extended his hand. “Ah, yes, your chaperone,” he said as though he could read her thoughts.
The warmth of his hand and the burr of his manly baritone sent a tingle up her spine. She stood stock-still, instantly mesmerized, as she looked up into his deep dark, brown eyes. He was so devilishly handsome, he nearly took her breath away.
“Hello, Meggie,” he drawled, releasing her hand.
Samantha eyes shifted from Marguerite to Ashton James. “You know my cousin’s name? I was not aware you were acquainted with one another.”
Under his watchful gaze, Marguerite felt herself blush. “I don’t know him,” she managed to shrug and say offhandedly. “Mr. James thinks he knows me, but he doesn’t know me at all. A train ride does not a person make,” she noted haughtily.
It was evident by the confused looks on the Hardwoods’ faces that she was not making any sense, but Marguerite could not help herself. She did not want to be affected by him, but it was hard to remain coherent when this stranger was so close…except that he was no longer a stranger. His name was Ashton James, and he had suddenly become her chaperone.
Satisfied that she had put him in his place, Marguerite turned her back to him, eager to get away.
“So long, Meggie,” she heard him call out.
Meggie, indeed—the audacity of the man! He was but a mere employee of Uncle John’s. How dare he address her in such a familiar way? “Don’t call me Meggie. I don’t like it,” she said over her shoulder as she walked out the door.
“Would you prefer I call you Duchess?” he asked, a trace of laughter in his deep-timbered voice.