Pompous SchemesAuthor: Ayr Bray
Book Description:
Thrown from his horse, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam is left to traverse the remaining fifteen miles to Pemberley on foot. Richard never imagined the first carriage to cross his path would contain the one woman he thought he would never see again.
Lady Aimée de Bourbon the only child of Prince du Sang Geoffroy de Bourbon, Marquis of Agen had captured and nearly broke Richard’s heart four years earlier. He had loved her and planned to give up his bachelor ways, but her father intended her to marry a royal, not an English Earl’s second son. Now Lady Aimée is affianced to Señor Duarte de Cortázar, a lesser Portuguese royal.
While lost in his thoughts of his prior love, the carriage is robbed, Lady Aimée’s dowry stolen, and Lord Agen is injured. Colonel Fitzwilliam directs the driver to take them to Pemberley where Mr. Darcy and his wife Elizabeth take them in and offer refuge and a place to heal.
Ancient customs of Dom Duarte’s family forbids marriage without the dowry present at the wedding and now with the dowry stolen, Lady Aimée and her father fear the de Cortázar’s will call off the marriage. But Lady Aimée intends to have love and will let nothing stand in her way, even if it means hurting the man she once professed to love.
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About the Author"From an early age I have always been fascinated by the written word and the mood and atmosphere it creates for a reader; especially those books that affect me and transport me to some far-off place. These are the elements I strive to create in my books. My books in many ways record what most affects me: my feelings and experiences with family, friends, and those I have run into on my life's journey. My hope is that in my books you will find something that touches you, something which will resonate in your soul and remind you that you are strong and can overcome anything, especially if you have the support of loving friends and family." - Ayr Bray
Ayr Bray is from the Pacific Northwest, but travels as much as possible so she doesn't have to deal with the cold. Ayr loves to hear from readers.
Connect with her at her website http://www.ayrbray.com or on Facebook at http://goo.gl/kAAO3u and
Excerpt
Chapter 6
The clacking of balls in the billiards room down the hall drew Aimée from her gloomy thoughts. She glided towards the sound, her steps muffled by the luxurious carpet.
When she neared the door, she paused and peered inside. There was Colonel Fitzwilliam, alone, playing billiards in his shirt-sleeves. She watched as he took a shot, the ball landing squarely in the cornerpocket. His satisfaction showed in the slightest curve at one corner of his mouth.
Aimée thought his expression adorable—in a manly way, of course. She remembered the week they had spent together in Aberdeen. She had enjoyed his flattering attentions, though she had known they could come to nothing. He was a second son of an English Earl and she the only daughter of a French Marquis. Their countries were at war and she, as a realist, had known their love could never be no matter how their hearts were touched.
Seeing him now, relaxed as he was, made her appreciate the time they had spent together, but it did not make her long for him. She had never been in love with him, though she had once thought otherwise. What she had felt for him had been no more than childish infatuation.
The clacking of balls in the billiards room down the hall drew Aimée from her gloomy thoughts. She glided towards the sound, her steps muffled by the luxurious carpet.
When she neared the door, she paused and peered inside. There was Colonel Fitzwilliam, alone, playing billiards in his shirt-sleeves. She watched as he took a shot, the ball landing squarely in the cornerpocket. His satisfaction showed in the slightest curve at one corner of his mouth.
Aimée thought his expression adorable—in a manly way, of course. She remembered the week they had spent together in Aberdeen. She had enjoyed his flattering attentions, though she had known they could come to nothing. He was a second son of an English Earl and she the only daughter of a French Marquis. Their countries were at war and she, as a realist, had known their love could never be no matter how their hearts were touched.
Seeing him now, relaxed as he was, made her appreciate the time they had spent together, but it did not make her long for him. She had never been in love with him, though she had once thought otherwise. What she had felt for him had been no more than childish infatuation.
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