Arabella Sheraton grew up on a diet of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and many other writers of that period. From Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, Arabella has found both enjoyment and inspiration in sparkling, witty Regency novels. She also loves history and generally finds the past more fascinating than the future. Arabella wrote her first Regency romance to entertain her aged mom who loved the genre. Arabella is honoured to share the adventures of her heroes and heroines with readers.
In this charming traditional Regency romance novella, Patience Cherwell is resigned to a life of spinsterhood. Therefore, when her young friend, the lovely Lorna Hartley, comes to stay for a London season, she decides the eligible, handsome Lord Blackwood is the perfect match for Lorna. Granted, Lord Blackwood, at forty, is much older than the vivacious 20-year-old Lorna, but Patience is determined to help her young friend make a good match. So why isn’t she happy when his lordship and Lorna seem to like each other’s company? The problem is that Patience is already madly in love with his lordship!
An unexpected invitation arrives for Lorna and Patience to attend Lord Blackwood’s Valentine Ball. This is the perfect moment for him to propose to Lorna. Mysteriously, a corsage arrives from an anonymous admirer. Who is it for? And what will be the outcome for the wearer at Lord Blackwood’s Valentine Ball?
This novella is the prequel to The Lady’s Revenge.
For her part, Patience had noticed everything about Lord Blackwood in one massive burst of clarity, as if his physical proximity heightened all her senses. The cleft in his firm chin, the somewhat tired look in his eyes that might be the sadness Henrietta mentioned, the way his coat fitted him so well across the breadth of his shoulders, his height which made her feel small and delicate, and the manly aura he exuded. He wore subtle spiced cologne water that she found appealing and strangely sensual, although she had pushed that wicked thought away, lest it cause more blushes. His eyes were hazel, flecked with green, and he had long dark eyelashes and straight black brows. It was futile to be the least bit interested in Lord Blackwood because he was not at all attracted to her. His smile for Lorna was caressing—or did she just imagine it?—and his glance fell upon Lorna’s fiery tresses and rose petal complexion with tenderness—or did she imagine that as well?
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