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Misty eyed, she watched him turn toward the door. Less misty eyed, she watched him tug uselessly at the doorknob. “Blair, don’t play the fool. I loved reliving our courtship, but my plans for tonight involve more space than we’ve got here.”
Instead of facing her, he slumped against the door, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “My darling lassie, history repeats itself. The door’s jammed. We’re stuck here until Mills comes to let us out.”
She stared at him, not quite as horrified as she should have been. “Truly?”
He drew himself up and faced her. “On my honor, truly. I’d have thought your uncle would get the lock fixed after last year’s fuss.”
“Perhaps he’s hoping to catch Caroline an earl, using the tactics that worked for me.”
Blair gave a huff of laughter. “God help the poor fellow, whoever he is. But what the devil are we to do now?”
She found herself smiling at her dark and dangerous husband as if he’d given her the best Christmas present in the world. After all, when he said he loved her, he had. “It seems, beloved, that you and I must find some way to occupy ourselves until Mills comes to the rescue.”
Acknowledgements
There’s one person above all who deserves thanks for the existence of HER CHRISTMAS EARL - blogger Danielle Gorman from Ramblings from This Chick (http://ramblingsfromthischick.blogspot.com). Dani runs a great romance site and hosts some of the most imaginative and enjoyable events in the blogosphere. Every year, I participate in her Christmas party where she invites writers to create a short scene on a theme she suggests related to the Holidays. In 2012, my prompt was a wardrobe malfunction on Christmas Eve. As a result, I wrote the first few pages of HER CHRISTMAS EARL where Erskine and Philippa are trapped in that closet with the threat of scandal hovering over their heads. I immediately fell in love with the characters and their dilemma and the rest is history, as they say in the classics.
About the Author
ANNA CAMPBELL has written nine multi award-winning historical romances for Grand Central Publishing and Avon HarperCollins and her work is published in sixteen languages. Her next full-length release is book four in her Sons of Sin series, A SCOUNDREL BY MOONLIGHT, in May 2015. Anna lives on the beautiful east coast of Australia where she writes full-time. For more information on Anna and her books, please check out her website: www.annacampbell.info
Anna loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at:
Website: http://www.annacampbell.info
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AnnaCampbellFans
Twitter: @AnnaCampbellOz
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/296477.Anna_Campbell
Continue reading for an excerpt from:
r /> The Winter Wife: A Christmas Novella
Will a chance meeting on Christmas Eve…
Alicia Sinclair, Countess of Kinvarra, cannot believe that fate has been so cruel as to strand her on the snowy Yorkshire moors with her estranged husband as her only hope of rescue. During their rare encounters, the arrogant earl and his countess act like hostile strangers. Now that Alicia has fallen into Kinvarra's power, will he seek revenge for her desertion? Or does the dark, passionate man she once adored have entirely different plans for his headstrong wife?
...deliver a second chance at love?
Sebastian Sinclair, Earl of Kinvarra, has spent ten wretched years regretting the mistakes he made with his young bride, but after long separation, the barriers between them are insurmountable. Until an unexpected encounter one stormy night makes him wonder if the barriers of mistrust and thwarted desire are so insurmountable after all. When winter weather traps Sebastian and his proud, lovely wife in an isolated inn, could the earl and his headstrong countess have a Christmas miracle in store?
Chapter One
North Yorkshire, Christmas Eve, 1825
THE CRASH OF shattering wood and the terrified screams of horses pierced the frosty night like a knife.
Sebastian Sinclair, Earl of Kinvarra, swore, brought his restive mount under control, then spurred the animal around the turn in the snowy road. With icy clarity, the full moon lit the white landscape, starkly revealing the disaster before him.
A flashy black curricle lay on its side in a ditch, the hood up against the weather. One horse had broken free and wandered the roadway, harness dragging. The other plunged wildly in the traces, struggling to escape.
Swiftly Kinvarra dismounted, knowing his mare would await his signal, and ran to free the distressed horse. As he slid down the muddy ditch, a hatless man scrambled out of the smashed curricle.
“Are you hurt?” Kinvarra asked, casting a quick eye over him.
“No, I thank you, sir.” The effete blond fellow turned back to the carriage. “Come, darling. Let me assist you.”
