Living in an older New England home with no central air or air-conditioning in the sweltering, humid summers is never fun. Which is why, ironically, when I was getting into bed one summer night, Lady Katherine Adamson chose that precise moment to fall through the frozen Thames River…and so began her story. Perhaps it was my own desire to feel something, anything cool—but in that hot summer night, “For Love of the Duke” was born. And now, I’d love to share the blurb and an excerpt. I’ll be offering a free copy to one commenter!
For Love of the Duke—Official Blurb
After the tragic death of his wife, Jasper, the 8th Duke of Bainbridge buried himself away in the dark cold walls of his home, Castle Blackwood. When he’s coaxed out of his self-imposed exile to attend the amusements of the Frost Fair, his life is irrevocably changed by a fateful meeting with Lady Katherine Adamson.
With her tight brown ringlets and silly white-ruffled gowns, Lady Katherine Adamson has found her dance card empty for two Seasons. After her father’s passing, Katherine learned the unreliability of men, and is determined to depend on no one, except herself. Until she meets Jasper…
Only, as Katherine begins to love Jasper, she finds the arrangement agreed upon is not enough. And Jasper is left to decide if protecting his heart is more important than fighting for Katherine’s love.
Author Biography—Christi Caldwell
USA Today Bestselling author, Christi Caldwell blames Judith McNaught's "Whitney, My Love," for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and try her hand at writing romance. She believes the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections and she rather enjoys tormenting them before crafting a well-deserved happily ever after!
Christi makes her home in Southern Connecticut where she spends her time writing, chasing around her feisty six-year old son and caring for her twin princesses in training!
Christi loves to hear from readers. To learn more about what she is working on, you can find her on Facebook at Christi Caldwell Author, Twitter @ChristiCaldwell, or visit her website www.christicaldwellauthor.com
And now, an excerpt from “For Love of the Duke”!
He settled his large, hand over hers.
“I suggest unless you merely want to trade death by drowning for death by the wheels of a carriage, that you release the handle, madam.”
His flat, emotionless tone conveyed boredom. Why, he might as well have been commenting on the weather or offering her tea.
Katherine snatched her hand back, feeling burned by his touch. “You are a m-monster,” she repeated.
He tugged free his wet gloves and beat them against one another. Drops of water sprayed the carriage walls. “Your charge grows unoriginal and tedious, madam.”
And in that moment it occurred to Katherine just how ungrateful she must seem. The towering stranger might be a foul-tempered fiend, but he’d saved her. Her lips twisted. Whether he’d wanted to or not.
“Forgive me, I’ve not yet thanked you.” She took a breath. “So thank you. For saving me. From drowning,” she finished lamely.
His shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “I’d hardly ruin the amusements of the day by watching you drown beneath the surface of the Thames.”
She expected she should feel outraged, shocked, appalled by those callously delivered words…and yet, something in his tone gave her pause. It was as though he sought to elicit an outraged response from her. Instead of outrage, Katherine was filled with her first stirrings of intrigue, wondering what had happened to turn his black heart so vile.
Katherine did not rise to his clear attempt at bating her. “My name is Lady Katherine Adamson.” Pause. “I imagine I should know the name of my rescuer.”
He said nothing for a while, and Katherine suspected he had no intention of answering her. She sighed and reached for the curtained window.
“Jasper Waincourt, 8th Duke of Bainbridge.”
Her eyes widened. “You are a duke,” she blurted.
He arched a single, frosty black brow at her. “You’d be wise not to make designs upon my title, madam. I’d not wed you if you were the last creature in the kingdom.”
She blinked. Oh, the dastard. Katherine jabbed a finger at him. “And you, well I wouldn’t wed you if you were the last creature in the world, and the King decreed it to spare my
His lips twitched. But then the firm line was back in place, so that she suspected she’d imagined the slight expression of mirth. “It is good we are of like opinions, then, madam. We are here,” he said.
She angled her head. And then the carriage rocked to a halt.
The sudden, unexpectedness of the stop, propelled Katherine forward, and she landed in an ignominious heap atop the duke’s chest.
It was as though she’d slammed into a stone wall. All the breath left her. She looked up at him through her lids…