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“Tell us the one when Mama and Granny Regina save you, Papa,” Reggie asked around a mouth full of peppermint sticks.
“Hmm. Let me think. How does it go?” Samuel said, as he always did.
“Once upon a time,” Reggie supplied eagerly.
“Oh yes,” Samuel said. “That’s it. Once upon a time, there was a fierce judiciary monster.”
“With purple skin. He had purple skin, Papa.”
“Yes. Purple skin and sharp teeth.”
Wide eyed, Reggie nodded.
Ellie had heard the story, a simplified and not very accurate, but quite entertaining, version of events, many times.
In the tale, she and the Dowager, whom the girls thought of as their grandmother, battled the fierce judiciary monster and saved Samuel. Making faces at Baby May to keep her entertained, Ellie listened to Reggie help her father tell the story.
Samuel was correct. Ellie could battle her new composition any time. Such a beautiful summer’s day was definitely best spent with their girls.
The End
I hope that you enjoyed ‘Wildflowers and Wiles’.
You’ll find a preview another of my books ‘Grace’s Story’, after the About the Author section.
About the Author
Summer Hanford is an author of Regency Romance, Adventure Romance, Pride and Prejudice retellings and High Fantasy. She lives in New York with her husband and compulsory, deliberately spoiled, cats. The newest addition to their household, an energetic setter-shepherd mix, is not yet appreciated by any of the three cats, but is well loved by the humans. For more about Summer, visit www.summerhanford.com.
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CAPTURED BY A DUKE
Freedom is within her grasp… if she truly desires escape
When Lady Annabel sets out to introduce herself to her betrothed the day before their wedding, she doesn’t count on being waylaid by highwaymen. Kidnapped, but not without recourse, Annabel shoots her abductor and escapes. Too late, she discovers she might not want her freedom.
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Here is your preview of
Grace’s Story
Chapter One
Dressed head to toe in black, a sheer veil concealing her face, Grace peered around the corner of the dark corridor. She held her breath and issued a prayer that she wasn’t right. She couldn’t be. She believed with every fibre of her being that William loved Lanora. That he was not the sort of gentleman who would sneak out, cavorting, while his once-again-pregnant wife slumbered.
A tread sounded up the hall. Grace jerked backward. She pressed against the silk clad wall of William and Lanora’s London home. Through the shadows of the adjoining corridor, a shape passed. Grace stuck her head out to watch a lean, darkly clad form stride away. She counted to six and followed.
Slowing at the next turn, she peeked around the corner. Passing through the circle of light cast by a single lit sconce, William Greydrake, Marquess of Westlock, turned down another passage. Grace clamped her hands over her mouth to hold in an exclamation of dismay. She’d wished so fervently to be wrong. To discover that one of the footmen, overzealous, roamed the house at night, even though William didn’t require his townhouse patrolled. Dropping her hands and running on tiptoe, she hurried after him to the next turn.
William reached a divide in the corridor and took the left hall.
Grace’s emotions did a fresh summersault. To the left lay the kitchen. Maybe this night, and all the other nights she’d heard him walk down the hall of late, he merely went to fetch Lanora something to eat. Some midnight snack her rounded state demanded.
But why not send a servant? To let the staff rest? To show Lanora his love? Grace tiptoed to the split in the corridor. Peering around the corner, she found the kitchen door swinging closed.
