Read Online Lady Myddelton's Lover by Evangeline Holland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Evangeline Holland
Tags: Romance, Historical, Historical Romance, Romantic Comedy, Anthologies, Collections & Anthologies, Victorian, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages)
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servants during the First World War
SUMMER 2013 : A Gentleman of Consequence : Prequel novella set in the spring of 1910, wherein society beauty Cecilia Feversham accepts a wager to make the ugly Earl of Marston fall in love with her after her spurns her attractions.
AUTUMN/WINTER 2013 : Mine Is The Night : Book 1 set in autumn of 1915, wherein Captain Huw Towyn seeks redemption in the arms of his reluctant fiancée, Leonore Feversham, a former ugly duckling turned respected VAD nurse.
Sneak Pe ek at Mine Is The Night
Ten hellish months in muddy Flanders have burnt away and blasted clean Captain Huw Towyn's resentment over the marriage arranged for him by his parents to Leonore Feversham, the youngest daughter of his father's oldest—and wealthiest—friend. Leonore, however, has not spent the past year pining Huw's absence, having defied her overbearing father by running away to London to nurse in a military hospital. Now that she has tasted independence and real work, Leonore is anxious to extricate herself from this unwanted marriage, which will jeopardize her opportunity to nurse in France.
What she does not expect is for Huw, darkly handsome and quite unlike the careless rogue he was before the war, to reject her demand for a mariage blanc —an unconsummated honeymoon—in order to obtain an annulment! With only ten days between his return to the Front, Leonore must keep her wits about her if she is to resist his seductive presence on their altogether too intimate honeymoon in the wilds of Wales…
London—September 13, 1915
Emerging from the train at Victoria Station after ten months at the Front was rather like stepping into another world, and Captain Huw Towyn stared about the cavernous area as he stood on the platform, disoriented by the unfamiliar familiarity of it all. The butt of a rifle slamming into his shoulder jolted him from his stupor and he turned his head to catch the stuttered apology from the corporal with the ear that had not been deafened by shellfire. He followed the corporal's progress down the platform after nodding his acceptance of the apology, and then averted his eyes when he saw the man sweep a small woman into his arms. His eye fell on another embracing couple, and still another, in between the NCOs and Tommies greeting one another with hearty hales and wives and children greeting their returning soldiers.
There was no one here to greet him, sweetheart, chum, or family. His fault of course, since he had not sent a telegram announcing his expedited leave, but he could not shake the pang of discontent over the absence of excited smiles, warm hands and eager arms…or a pair of solemn brown eyes. He lowered his eyes to his valise beside his feet at that thought, the leather carry-all heavy with his clothes, sleeping bag, camp bed, shaving kit, housewife, and his books. There was no point in dawdling on the platform—no one was going to materialize based on his thoughts—and Huw reached for the handle of his valise to make his way out of the railway station.
The night, unseasonably warm for autumn, made him turn down the collar of his trench coat as he walked the darkened streets from Victoria Station to Chelsea. He could have easily taken a taxicab to his sister Morgan's flat, but the notion of cramming himself and his valise into another enclosed space after twelve hours in a rattling truck-train across Flanders and another train across Kent, was agitating. He palmed the brass key she sent him in her last post, anticipating a hot bath, a soft bed, and a chilled bottle of the Boy to loosen the knot of tension in his shoulders. He winced at the flash of light from the headlamps of an oncoming motorcar, his faculties sensitive to the point of aching after months at the Front, and took a step back onto the kerb he meant to cross just as the automobile inched
SUMMER 2013 : A Gentleman of Consequence : Prequel novella set in the spring of 1910, wherein society beauty Cecilia Feversham accepts a wager to make the ugly Earl of Marston fall in love with her after her spurns her attractions.
AUTUMN/WINTER 2013 : Mine Is The Night : Book 1 set in autumn of 1915, wherein Captain Huw Towyn seeks redemption in the arms of his reluctant fiancée, Leonore Feversham, a former ugly duckling turned respected VAD nurse.
Sneak Pe ek at Mine Is The Night
Ten hellish months in muddy Flanders have burnt away and blasted clean Captain Huw Towyn's resentment over the marriage arranged for him by his parents to Leonore Feversham, the youngest daughter of his father's oldest—and wealthiest—friend. Leonore, however, has not spent the past year pining Huw's absence, having defied her overbearing father by running away to London to nurse in a military hospital. Now that she has tasted independence and real work, Leonore is anxious to extricate herself from this unwanted marriage, which will jeopardize her opportunity to nurse in France.
What she does not expect is for Huw, darkly handsome and quite unlike the careless rogue he was before the war, to reject her demand for a mariage blanc —an unconsummated honeymoon—in order to obtain an annulment! With only ten days between his return to the Front, Leonore must keep her wits about her if she is to resist his seductive presence on their altogether too intimate honeymoon in the wilds of Wales…
London—September 13, 1915
Emerging from the train at Victoria Station after ten months at the Front was rather like stepping into another world, and Captain Huw Towyn stared about the cavernous area as he stood on the platform, disoriented by the unfamiliar familiarity of it all. The butt of a rifle slamming into his shoulder jolted him from his stupor and he turned his head to catch the stuttered apology from the corporal with the ear that had not been deafened by shellfire. He followed the corporal's progress down the platform after nodding his acceptance of the apology, and then averted his eyes when he saw the man sweep a small woman into his arms. His eye fell on another embracing couple, and still another, in between the NCOs and Tommies greeting one another with hearty hales and wives and children greeting their returning soldiers.
There was no one here to greet him, sweetheart, chum, or family. His fault of course, since he had not sent a telegram announcing his expedited leave, but he could not shake the pang of discontent over the absence of excited smiles, warm hands and eager arms…or a pair of solemn brown eyes. He lowered his eyes to his valise beside his feet at that thought, the leather carry-all heavy with his clothes, sleeping bag, camp bed, shaving kit, housewife, and his books. There was no point in dawdling on the platform—no one was going to materialize based on his thoughts—and Huw reached for the handle of his valise to make his way out of the railway station.
The night, unseasonably warm for autumn, made him turn down the collar of his trench coat as he walked the darkened streets from Victoria Station to Chelsea. He could have easily taken a taxicab to his sister Morgan's flat, but the notion of cramming himself and his valise into another enclosed space after twelve hours in a rattling truck-train across Flanders and another train across Kent, was agitating. He palmed the brass key she sent him in her last post, anticipating a hot bath, a soft bed, and a chilled bottle of the Boy to loosen the knot of tension in his shoulders. He winced at the flash of light from the headlamps of an oncoming motorcar, his faculties sensitive to the point of aching after months at the Front, and took a step back onto the kerb he meant to cross just as the automobile inched
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