Friday, 30 October 2020

Westbury by Arabella Sheen - EXCERPT 7

 




Westbury

A Traditional Regency Romance

Arabella Sheen


Can Miss Georgina Morton surrender her independence and accept the Duke’s love?

Miss Georgina Morton, at the age of four-and-twenty, with a modest annual income of four hundred pounds, believes she has no need of a husband and can manage quite nicely without one. Yet within a matter of weeks, she’s betrothed to Giles Glentworth, the Sixth Duke of Westbury, and bound for Regency London.
Set in rural Wiltshire and elegant, fast-paced London...a runaway ward, a shooting at midnight, and a visit to fashionable Almack’s, are only a few of the adventures Georgina enjoys while falling for the Corinthian charms of the Duke.



Chapter Two     Excerpt 7   continued…


Some years ago, Georgina’s parents had hired a house in Claremont Square for the London Season. They had taken her to London with the intention of presenting her to society so that she might find a suitable man to make a match with and marry. Georgina had done all the things a debutante should do. She’d gone to balls, danced the night away, and she’d made lots of new friends.
It was whilst paying a morning visit to one of her friends―Clarissa Davenport―that Georgina first encountered “Cousin Giles.” He had been known as the Marquis of Glentworth, and her encounter with him was anything but pleasant.
At the time, Georgina hadn’t known who the Marquis of Glentworth was, and it was only later in the season when someone pointed him out as being none other than the next Duke of Westbury, that she discovered his true identity.
Having called upon Clarissa to indulge in a delightful tête-à-tête about a ball they attended the night before, Georgina left her friend’s house and was making her way back to Claremont Square on foot when the Marquis of Glentworth almost knocked her down with his phaeton.
He was considered London’s most eligible bachelor and thought of by the ladies of the ton as the undisputed dandy of the Season. But that didn’t matter to Georgina. All she remembered about the Marquis was that he was the most arrogant, high-handed man she’d ever met, and he’d behaved atrociously toward her.
Whether he’d seen her crossing the road or whether she’d stepped off the curb too quickly was irrelevant. It was the fact that he’d chosen to give her a dressing down in public that riled her.
There was no doubt the Marquis veered his horses away to the side of the road with great skill. And his competence in avoiding an accident was excellent. But she felt there was no need for him to have shouted her down in such an ungentlemanly fashion in front of passers-by. He’d been completely and utterly discourteous.
His displeasure with her was apparent, and people at the roadside, witnessing their altercation, had been thoroughly entertained by her discomfort. For her it was an excruciatingly painful and embarrassing event. And she’d been disconcertingly mortified.
“You there,” the Marquis had called out. “Where are you bound in such a hurry? I assume you know you have crossed the road with unseeming recklessness?”
The Marquis was a fine figure of a man. Handsome enough, with a crop of thick, raven-black hair swept back from his brow in the style known as a Brutus. His features, although not rugged, were strong and compelling. And his penetrating eyes, by startling contrast, were of a cool steely grey that was mesmerising. But his good looks and manly attractiveness did not sway her from the fact that his gentleman-like behaviour wasn’t up to scratch or that he was shouting, giving her a dressing down in public.
Flustered and on the point of apologising for her hasty action, Georgina remained silent. When she heard his angry words and the tone of voice in which he spoke, she pointedly ignored his outburst and concentrated solely on straightening her lopsided bonnet. But when his horses moved, restlessly shaking their manes for attention, her bonnet, which had by now fallen from her head and dangled by its ribbons down her back, was completely forgotten.
Drawing near to where the high-perch phaeton stood, and with total disregard for her safety, she’d gone to the front of the carriage, taken the horses’ bridles in her gloved hands, and tried to calm them. Stroking their forelocks, she’d spoken soothing words before fixing a steely glare of disdain upon their owner.
Never before had she been more thankful for all the hours she’d spent in her bedchamber as a young girl, standing in front of the mirror, practising and perfecting the art of delivering the harshest of stares imaginable. Any lesser man than the Marquis would have baulked at her glower, but her unflinching look seemed not to affect him.
“Had you been more attentive, sir, there would have been no need for you to have pulled so harshly on these reins. You might have ruined their sensitive mouths.”
“Let me tell you, young Miss, no one has ever dared question me on the treatment of my horses before. You are the first person to do so.”
Georgina was surprised by the incensed and irate reaction of the Marquis. She’d ruffled his feathers.
“Really? You astonish me, sir. Perhaps someone ought to have done so before.”
He adjusted his grip on the reins. “I pride myself on giving my thoroughbreds only the finest. Nothing is of more importance to me than my horses’ wellbeing. They always have the best of everything. The best stables, the best grooms, the best fodder, and I never leave them standing outside in the cold waiting on my pleasure. Never. How dare you say I might have ruined their mouths?”
Bravely ignoring his outburst, Georgina began gingerly inspecting the horses, searching for any damage that might have been caused. There was none. But that was of no account.
Although the Marquis had skilfully handled his animals as any Corinthian, it was of no consequence to her. Her hackles were raised, and she was on the warpath. Given half the chance, she was ready to accuse him of anything and everything because of the way he made her feel and because of the telling off he’d given her.
“Had I not been vigilant, madam, my greys could have floored you, and the world would be minus your beauty.”
Georgina thought she detected a hint of tightly control sarcasm about this man, but giving him the benefit of the doubt, she decided she might be wrong. There was such an air of condemnation about him that she doubted he would ever have the inclination or the ability to stoop so low in order that he might indulge himself in something as meaningless and trivial as cynicism.
“I’m realistic enough to know I’m not a beauty, sir. I agree I may have momentarily lost my wits when crossing this road and that I might have been quite inconsiderate to these magnificent horses, but I’m not so stupid as to believe you when you call me a beauty.” Georgina tilted her head proudly in the air. “I must inform you that on more than one occasion I’ve been told my looks are passable, but a beauty I’m not. And never shall be.”
Giles had regarded her with a measuring look and then he’d laughed in disbelief. “Never before have I paid a woman a compliment and had it thrown back at me. I’m intrigued to know what kind of modest, self-effacing woman I’m talking to.”
“I’m not self-effacing, sir. I’m only truthful.”
“Then if you tell me you are not a beauty and inform me that my judgement is to be questioned, I must insist on having a closer look―for my eyes must be deceiving me. Come, step up into the carriage and allow me to inspect you.”
Giles drew off his gloves and tossed them onto the seat beside him. He reached down a hand to help her up, but with a shake of her head, she refused.
“Sir, I will not,” she said, affronted. “And you cannot make me.”
“Don’t fly into high fidgets. If you will not come to me then I shall have to come to you.”
With great agility, the Marquis tossed the reins of his phaeton to his tiger, the small groom who rode behind the carriage, and springing down, approached.
Even though Georgina trembled at his unexpected nearness, she stood her ground. Squaring her shoulders, she faced him full on, unafraid.
“I stand corrected,” he said, containing his merriment. “Allow me to revise my assessment.” Placing his fingers beneath her chin, he had tilted her head first sideways then up and down as he inspected her features. “You’re quite right. And I must with great reluctance agree with you. You do indeed have indifferent eyes, and your nose―it is only just passable. But I shall stand by my first impression concerning your lips. They are truly beautiful. So beautiful, that I deem they must be kissed. But perhaps we must save that for another time. Instead, I shall…”
And before Georgina realised what was happening, the Marquis had captured her hand in his and had raised it to his lips.
There had been no chance for her to move away or resist.
Someone amid the crowd of onlookers let out a loud roar of approval, but Georgina, ignoring the shouts of encouragement, began to struggle against the Marquis’s determined grip.
Her heart beat furiously in her chest. “Unhand me, sir,” she’d said. But the Marquis had paid no heed to her protests.
Instead, his hold had tightened further, and lifting her into his arms and tossing her carelessly onto the high perch of his phaeton, he’d climbed the steps of the carriage and positioned himself beside her.
Once again taking control of the reins, he’d asked, “Where to?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she’d said, quite vexed.
“Where are you living? For I’m sure, that if I were to leave you here, you would soon be knocked over again. Or worse. Next time you might manage to get yourself killed.”
“Thank you,” she’d said between gritted teeth as she tried to maintain her countenance. “But I believe I can find my way home without your assistance.”
Wriggling on the seat, she removed the gloves upon which she’d been sitting and offered them to him but he completely ignored her activities and comments. With an adroit, dexterous flick of the wrist, he whipped the reins on high and set the horses in motion. Georgina couldn’t help but admire his skill with the ribbons as he controlled the high-steppers. His hands, adorned only with an elaborately embellished sardonyx signet ring on his left hand, were set off to perfection by the brown, white and tan bands of the precious stone, but they looked too soft to have the ability to control such powerful animals. But he could handle them well, and he did―with great expertise.
“This is not about you being able to find your way, madam. It is about the fact that you’re on the streets of London, unaccompanied. I trust you realise that I might not be available to save your reputation on another occasion such as this.”
Georgina couldn’t help herself. She scoffed at his remarks.
“Guff, sir!” she’d said crossly. “That is flimflam and nonsense. You think walking these streets unaccompanied and without my maid has done me harm? Let me inform you that by taking me up in your phaeton, you’ve placed me in a far worse position. I’m here with you―alone. More than likely this jaunt will be the ruin of me.”
“On the contrary, madam. It’s not every day I permit a female to ride beside me, and I suspect being seen in my company is going to do you a great deal of good.”
And so it was, that in great style, and accompanied by the Marquis of Glentworth, who was indeed a complete stranger to her, Miss Georgina Morton was dropped unceremoniously at the door of the hired house her parents had leased in Claremont Square.
Throughout the remainder of her London Season, occasionally, and through no doing of her own, she caught fleeting glimpses of the Marquis. She also heard ample gossip linking his name to that of Charlotte Bambridge. There had been rumours of a wedding, but that was all it must have been―rumours—because Abigail had said that Charlotte Bambridge was now Lady Thornton.
And as for the Marquis of Glentworth, all Georgina knew from what her father once read aloud from the public declarations in his much-valued journals, was that the Fifth Duke of Westbury had died, and that his son, Glentworth, had inherited the title.
The Marquis of Glentworth was now the Sixth Duke of Westbury.
Could ‘Cousin Giles’ be the Sixth Duke of Westbury? And if so, Georgina believed the difficulty of finding Abigail’s next-of-kin might be solved.
Georgina was going to have to make a difficult choice: to betray Abigail’s trust and contact the Duke or to wait until Abigail was discovered by her relatives, as she must eventually be.
After great deliberation, a difficult decision was made, and having sent off a letter informing the Duke of his cousin’s stay at Rose Hill House, Georgina didn’t anticipate a reply for at least a se’nnight―if not longer. She knew titled people such as Dukes and Earls were notorious for being constantly away from their estates, and she assumed the present Duke of Westbury was no exception.
Georgina felt the only course of action open to her was to sit and wait and see what happened. But meanwhile, there was the urgent problem of how to engage and entertain the Duke’s ward so that Abigail willingly remained at Rose Hill until the Duke arrived.


Disclaimer, Copyrights and Publishing
Any names or characters have no existence outside the imagination of the
author or are used fictitiously, and actual events are purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied,
stored in a retrieval system known or hereinafter invented, without
written permission of the publisher.


Copyright © 2019 by – Arabella Sheen
Published by priceplacebooks

All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-9575698-4-3


About Arabella Sheen


Arabella Sheen


Arabella Sheen is a British author of contemporary romance and likes nothing more than the challenge of starting a new novel with fresh ideas and inspiring characters.
One of the many things Arabella loves to do is to read. And when she’s not researching or writing about romance, she is either on her allotment sowing and planting with the seasons or she is curled on the sofa with a book, while pandering to the demands of her attention-seeking cat.
Having lived and worked in the Netherlands as a theatre nurse for nearly twenty years, she now lives in the south-west of England with her family.
Arabella hopes her readers have as much pleasure from her romance stories as she has in writing them.

Social Media






BUY LINKS: 
Amazon – Nook – Kobo – Smashwords – Apple – etc.: https://books2read.com/u/mla2xB


Wednesday, 28 October 2020

Welcome to RNA - NWS member - Helga Jensen-Forde

I’m delighted to welcome Helga Jensen-Forde, a New Writers’ Scheme member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, to my blog.




For those unfamiliar with the RNA - New Writers’ Scheme, the scheme offers unpublished writers the chance to network with fellow writers, agents and publishers…and includes many more membership benefits.


Hello Helga – Thank you for joining me on Arabella’s Blog and Chit-Chat, today. As we whizz through a few Questions & Answers, hopefully, readers and followers can gain an insight into some of the things that matter to you as a writer. It's a chance for all of us to get to know you a little as you make your way towards the publication of your novel. So, let's get started... 😊

 

Arabella:  How did you hear about or discover: The Romantic Novelists’ Association - New Writers’ Scheme?

Helga: As a journalist, I was already a member of The Society of Women Writers and Journalists. Then someone at a writing seminar mentioned The Romantic Novelists’ Association. As I write romance I knew this sounded exactly what I needed in my life. I subsequently discovered the New Writers’ Scheme and, as fiction writing was new to me, I jumped at the chance to join.




 


Arabella: Egg and Chips, Tea and Cake, or a Chocolate Treat?

Helga:  Oh, for those who know me they will know that answer. Definitely chocolate treats, although tea and cake come a very close second!

 


Arabella:  What is your romance genre and why have you chosen this particular type of novel to write?

Helga:  I write romantic comedy. I feel quite strongly about this genre because the world can be such a stressful place and, at times, bad things happen. I want to make the world a nicer place with comical stories. My dream is to make people laugh out loud and brighten their day with the comedy I write.

 

Arabella:  Do you have anyone supporting your writing endeavours? Friends, family, writing groups, etc?

Helga:  I am currently studying for a Creative Writing MA. Through the course there are workshops where the students critique each others writing. This has been an invaluable process. The feedback has been extremely helpful on my second book that I am now writing.


Arabella:  Which season of the year do you most enjoy and why?

Helga:  It depends where I am. Definitely summer in the UK. I lived in Dubai for over twenty years, where the cooler winter months were definitely the best. However, wherever I am, as long as the sun is shining that makes me happy.  



Arabella:  So…you are a member of the RNA’s – NWS which means you are in the throes of writing the next bestseller.

No spoilers and without revealing too much about your plot… (otherwise someone might pinch your great story ideas before they’ve been published… J ) Tell us briefly about the romance you hope to submit to the RNA’s - New Writers’ Scheme for a friendly critique, before approaching an agent or publisher with your completed manuscript.

Helga:  The first chapter of my novel, Temptation at Tiffany’s, was a winning entry at the Emirates Literary Festival Montegrappa First Fiction competition a few years ago. It is about the story of Amelia, a Pinot Grigio and Nutella loving woman (any similarity to me is purely coincidental!) When looking through an old suitcase, Amelia finds the telephone number of a handsome man she met twenty years before, whilst on holiday in New York. Now suddenly single, she considers whether she should track him down and finally agree to that date he asked her on and was too nervous to accept. Let’s just say that what comes next is a transatlantic adventure!

 

Thank you so much for sharing something about yourself with us, Helga. It certainly sounds as if you’ve had many adventures whilst travelling the world.

Meanwhile, best wishes for any NWS works in progress, and I hope Temptation at Tiffany’s soon finds a home with the romance publisher of your dreams.

Arabella

www.arabellasheen.co.uk


About   Helga Jensen-Forde




Helga Jensen-Forde is a Danish/British journalist and author. Her first book, Temptation at Tiffany’s, was a winning entry at the 2017 Montegrappa First Fiction competition at Dubai’s Emirates Literary Festival. The romantic comedy is now with a number of agents and publishers and Helga is currently looking for representation. Whilst waiting to publish Temptation at Tiffany’s, Helga is working on her second book and a Creative Writing MA, whilst continuing to work as a freelance journalist.

Having lived in the Middle East for the past 25 years, the former airline stewardess is now in the UK to complete her MA before deciding where to jet off next.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: Helga Jensen Forde Author

Twitter: HelgaJensenF


Friday, 23 October 2020

Westbury by Arabella Sheen - EXCERPT 6

 




Westbury

A Traditional Regency Romance

Arabella Sheen


Can Miss Georgina Morton surrender her independence and accept the Duke’s love?

Miss Georgina Morton, at the age of four-and-twenty, with a modest annual income of four hundred pounds, believes she has no need of a husband and can manage quite nicely without one. Yet within a matter of weeks, she’s betrothed to Giles Glentworth, the Sixth Duke of Westbury, and bound for Regency London.
Set in rural Wiltshire and elegant, fast-paced London...a runaway ward, a shooting at midnight, and a visit to fashionable Almack’s, are only a few of the adventures Georgina enjoys while falling for the Corinthian charms of the Duke.



Chapter Two    Excerpt 6   continued…


A few days later, while sat one afternoon in the sunny walled garden, they were sharing a tête-à-tête when Georgina heard some vital information concerning Abigail’s guardian.
“I’m so pleased the dresses fit you,” Georgina said. “It would have been awful if you had to continue to wear that ill-fitting gentleman’s outfit.”
Abigail smiled. “It was kind of you to have given me so many lovely gowns. I’m only amazed you can suffer to part with them. I adore pastel colours, don’t you? And this one I’m wearing is simply perfect for me. I promise to return them to you when I have something of my own to wear.”
Abigail smoothed out the soft material of the emperor-styled morning dress she wore, and Georgina thought Abigail did indeed look delightfully charming in the gown.
“There’s no need. I insist you keep them. The gowns were bought several years ago for my London Season, and I’m sure I’ve outgrown them. My only concern is that they might be a little dated in style and fashion. I expect you’re used to much finer things.”
Georgina was unwilling to accept further thanks for the gowns, and wished to change the subject. She tried to introduce other avenues of conversation, but it was not to be. Abigail was determined to have her say.
“Do you know, you’re far more generous to me than my guardian. You have given me so many nice things, whereas he gives me nothing at all.”
This was the first time Georgina had heard talk of a guardian.
“Giving you a few of my old gowns cannot be counted as generosity,” said Georgina. “In fact, it is you who is doing a service by taking them off my hands. And I’m positive that, in his own way, your guardian is a kind-hearted and benevolent man. Is that not so?”
Georgina hoped she might discover a little more about Abigail’s background, and she did.
“Oh, no, Georgina! You’re wrong! Completely wrong!” replied Abigail with avid conviction. “Cousin Giles is very old fashioned in his ways, and although he might have a large house and is comfortably off, he is extremely tight-fisted. We have to ask him for everything, and he is particularly reluctant to give. You on the other hand are truly a kind and generous person. Look how you cared for me when you found me stranded at the inn. I dread to think what would have happened had you not chanced by.”
Abigail shuddered with horror as her gruesome experience with the stagecoach and its coachman was recalled.
“I’m sure you would have managed on your own,” said Georgina, in an attempt to alleviate Abigail’s distress. “Eventually, one of your relatives would have followed and found you.”
Abigail rolled her eyes heavenward. “I think not.”
There was a woeful look in Abigail’s eyes that Georgina could not ignore. “Why is that?” She kept her tone deliberately level.
“Well, I didn’t exactly tell them where I was going. And as I’ve never been permitted to venture out on my own, I imagine they will not for one moment think I would dare travel such a great distance or that I would go in search of my Great Aunt Wilhelmina. They will probably assume I’m still in Bath, hiding with friends.”
Georgina was curious. “Are you really so dependent on your cousin that you have to apply to him for everything?”
“Oh, yes―truly I am,” whispered Abigail confidingly. “I’ve been told that I have some money which my parents left for me in trust, but Cousin Giles will not permit me to know how much it is. Nor will he allow me to spend it. He was used to say it was entrusted to him for safekeeping. And he tells me I must come of age or wait until I am leg-shackled to a husband before it becomes mine to do with as I wish. Did you ever hear such a thing? Leg shackled indeed! How dare he say such an awful thing to me? Everyone knows I will only ever marry for true love.”
It was from this innocent imparted confidence that Georgina learnt that Abigail had an austere cousin named Giles, and much to Abigail’s annoyance, he acted as her guardian and banker.
“How dreadful for you,” Georgina said in a consoling manner. “To be deprived of your inheritance and forced to marry to gain it. How monstrous he must be!”
The more Georgina heard of this Cousin Giles the less inclined she was to like this unknown person.
“Cousin Mary, who is Cousin Giles’s sister, says that when she overspends the allowance her husband has given her, she applies to her brother for extra funding. But he is so tight-fisted and mean with handing over the ready that it’s like squeezing blood from a stone. Although it’s not the most genteel thing for her to have said, I must say it’s completely true. You see, I know from experience Cousin Giles has plenty of money, yet he is quite a skinflint when it comes to parting with his wherewithal.”
“But surely payment of your Cousin Mary’s debts are for her husband to solve.”
“True, but Cousin Giles has such a great fortune that it would be of no consequence to him if he paid all her bills. He’s simply reluctant to part with his fortune. And because of this, I decided I would travel to London and seek advice from Great Aunt Wilhelmina on how best to proceed. There are some things that are absolutely essential for a lady’s comfort and must be bought if she is to be seen in society. Do you not agree, Georgina? Do tell me that travelling to London and seeking out my Great Aunt is the right thing to do.”
After careful consideration, Georgina replied, “Well, to be truthful, I don’t think I could do what you’re doing. I would be too scared to venture from Avebury on my own. And I’m also sure your guardian―Cousin Gileshas a valid reason for withholding your allowance. He seems horrid, but surely he cannot be all bad. After all, someone at some point thought he was a good person. At least good enough to entrust you into his care.”
Georgina tried to be diplomatic, but secretly she thought, if what she had heard was true and Abigail’s guardian was indeed withholding sufficient funding, then it was completely dishonest of him to do so.
“Another thing that is most, most, most vexing is that Cousin Giles will not permit Mr Bentley to pay his addresses to me,” said Abigail in a forlorn manner. “I’ve been forbidden all contact and told to sever all acquaintance with him. You might not believe this, but I have formed quite a fondness for Mr Bentley, and I’ve very nearly given him my heart. But Cousin Giles believes he is not good enough for me and says Mr Bentley’s family isn’t at all well connected.”
Georgina was heartily sick of hearing about Cousin Giles. The man was dictatorial and seemed to have power over everyone around him. Not only did he hold Abigail’s purse-strings tightly shut, he was also determined to decide who Abigail could—or could not—see. As for Cousin Mary, apparently she worshipped the ground her brother walked on despite his withholding funds. Abigail was indeed in an unfortunate position.
faint puzzled frown of bewilderment crossed Georgina’s brow. “Surely Mr Bentley’s lack of family connections is not sufficient reason for your cousin to stop you from seeing him. If Mr Bentley is a man of character and a true gentleman, then surely that is of more importance than his rank.”
“Oh, no, Georgina. I can assure you that is not so. Cousin Giles is an expert when it comes to knowing with whom to associate and whom to avoid. You see, he is invited to all the best ton parties and balls of the season. Everybody knows Cousin Giles, or at least they want to know him. And all the unmarried debutantes are after him. I’m told he is quite a prize―although I cannot think so myself. Eight-and-twenty is far too old to be considered eligible, do you not agree?”
As Georgina was all of four-and-twenty, an age when most young ladies were considered to be on the shelf and no longer in their first bloom of youth, she thought it prudent to remain silent.
“Every year he gives a ball at his country home, and these occasions are beyond compare. His balls are considered to be legendary, and generally, only the crème de la crème of society are invited. Invitations are like gold dust, and women consider themselves extremely fortunate if they are able to attend. When he asks to see their dance cards, they simply swoon.”
“Really?” was Georgina’s dry retort. The man sounded insufferably obnoxious.
“I can assure you his home is most marvellous. It’s so spacious even I cannot comprehend how one man can rattle around in it on his own. Although to be fair, he does have my Aunt Henrietta residing with him. If Mr Bentley and I were to marry I would dearly love to have a home such as the one Cousin Giles has. It’s enormously splendid.”
Georgina, ever eager to fight a good cause, was more than willing to take up arms and do battle to defend the innocent. And in her opinion, Abigail was both vulnerable and an innocent.
Abigail wanted her freedom; she wanted her inheritance, and she wanted Mr Nathan Bentley, and Georgina was willing to help her achieve those desires if she could.
Anyone who would dare stop another from doing as they wished—which was exactly what Cousin Giles appeared to be doing―should be held accountable for their actions. And Georgina was quite prepared to do this, if and when she saw the man. She detested the thought of anyone having power over another, and she was willing to help Abigail gain her independence. Not just because she liked Abigail and had come to look upon her as a friend but because Cousin Giles sounded like a most arrogant, pompous person with overbearing manners, and he needed to be taught a lesson.
“I hope I meet this cousin of yours sometime,” Georgina said with fury smouldering in her eyes. “No man should part another from their true love, and if you have formed a real affection for Mr Bentley…”
Normally Georgina wasn’t the type to put herself forward, but if she thought an injustice had been done, she was prepared to crusade for another.
Thinking Abigail inconsolable and grieving the loss of her true love, Georgina was willing to fight the causeIf need be, she would go in search of this Mr Bentley and advise him on a course of action to overcome all obstacles.
“Cousin Giles believes what I feel for Mr Bentley cannot be real love, and he should know. I once saw him at a ball held at the Bath Assembly Rooms. He was dancing the Cotillion with Lady Charlotte. When I happened to whisper to Cousin Mary that perhaps there was soon to be a wedding, Cousin Mary said it couldn’t possibly be. Because although her brother was besotted with Lady Charlotte and pursued her for his own amusement, he couldn’t offer marriage as she was already married to Lord Thornton and had been for a number of years.” Abigail broke off from what she was saying and hurriedly covered her mouth with her hands. “I’ve said too much,” she exclaimed.
But it was indeed too late. Georgina had been listening, and she’d gleaned some vital information.
Instantly alert, Georgina asked, “Do you mean Lady Charlotte who was once known as Charlotte Bambridge?”
Bambridge?” echoed Abigail. “The name does sound familiar, so more than likely she was called Bambridge before she married. But I’m not sure. Do you know of her?”
The pieces were falling into place and Georgina believed she had discovered the hidden identity of Cousin Giles.
The names, Giles and Charlotte, when coupled together, had a ring of familiarity, and Georgina wondered if “Cousin Giles” could be someone with whom she was already acquainted.


Disclaimer, Copyrights and Publishing
Any names or characters have no existence outside the imagination of the
author or are used fictitiously, and actual events are purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied,
stored in a retrieval system known or hereinafter invented, without
written permission of the publisher.


Copyright © 2019 by – Arabella Sheen
Published by priceplacebooks

All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-9575698-4-3



About Arabella Sheen


Arabella Sheen


Arabella Sheen is a British author of contemporary romance and likes nothing more than the challenge of starting a new novel with fresh ideas and inspiring characters.
One of the many things Arabella loves to do is to read. And when she’s not researching or writing about romance, she is either on her allotment sowing and planting with the seasons or she is curled on the sofa with a book, while pandering to the demands of her attention-seeking cat.
Having lived and worked in the Netherlands as a theatre nurse for nearly twenty years, she now lives in the south-west of England with her family.
Arabella hopes her readers have as much pleasure from her romance stories as she has in writing them.

Social Media




BUY LINKS: 
Amazon – Nook – Kobo – Smashwords – Apple – etc.: https://books2read.com/u/mla2xB

A Gentleman in Love - Arabella Sheen - Excerpt 2

A Gentleman in Love by Arabella Sheen A Christmas wedding and a growing passion. Will a political scandal destroy their love? Desperate to e...