Sunday, February 26, 2012

VISION OF DESTINY



I love VISION OF DESTINY'S cover! GX did an awesome job again! It's coming! Sent it to the editor this morning. As soon as I get the edits completed, up it goes. I'm hoping early March. Don't have a set date, but I promise I won't make you wait any longer than you have too. Everyone has been so patient! I hope its been worth it.

Edited!!!! I'm so happy. I know you guys have been great with Whispers without it being professionally edited. Now it will be. Not only that but I'm going back to the first two, editing both and pulling all three together under one title- Whispers of a Legend, Volume I. It will be in print also.

After which, Daughter of Deceit will be edited! Thankfully...hopefully I'll get those ugly reviewers off my back. I have to get a tougher skin about reviews. I know everyone has their opinion and I respect that, but they don't have to get personal. I have to be honest. I was taken back by the reviews and truthfully don't understand the really bad ones. Whispers of a Legend was self-edited by me. And nobody lambasted me for the editing errors. There were suggestions and I listened.

Most understood that Whispers of a Legend is an Indie which means edits are expensive. I couldn't justify the cost of my venture without knowing I would get reimbursed with profits. Now that's not an issue and the edits are getting done.

The funny thing is that Daughter of Deceit was edited the first six chapters. Then I had a friend read over the rest. Is it like the backlist of the bestselling authors? Not yet...it will be. What do I have to say to those bad reviews? Edits can be fixed. And...

Simply this. I had a choice. I could wait for years trying to get Daughter of Deceit sold to a major publisher. I just didn't see that happening especially after being told with Another Night Falls that I didn't have a name. They needed to know the book would sale. How do you get a name at a small/ medium publishing house where you in a sea of other authors? By going INDIE.

Sometimes you just have to take a chance. I have faith in my writing...or should I say my stories. I have had reviewers condemn me because my book isn't as polished as a New York Times bestselling author. There is a reason...I don't have their editors...I don't have an assistant...I don't have their money. What I have are my stories.

I feel like I've been truly blessed. I have the opportunity to do what I love- to write.

Again Vision of Destiny is coming and the legend continues...


Friday, February 24, 2012

Whispers of a Legend, Part Three- Vision of Destiny


I've never been one for keeping secrets. Here it is the cover to the next installment. Means only one thing...Vision of Destiny is coming soon! Within two weeks...

Don't forget...you need to have read the ones before it. Whispers of a Legend, Part One-Shadows of the Past is FREE! Whispers of a Legend, Part Two- The Path Now Turned is only $0.99.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Vision of Destiny Coming Soon!

Whispers of a Legend
Waiting for my cover for Vision of Destiny. Should be in by the end of next week. I have a few more edits to do and then off to the editor. I believe it will be worth the wait. I hope so.

Over the last month my attention turned for a moment to Daughter of Deceit. I have to say I have grown as a person. I got lambasted about my edits with Daughter of Deceit. I had expected a similar response as to my edits with Whispers of a Legend, but Daughter of Deceit, even though I do not question it needs edits, resonated a response I wasn't prepared for. Moreover, never did I expect my book to shoot up the rankings like it did.

I've learned from that experience. I also now can afford the edits for my books. I can go into all sorts of reasons why I went Indie. While my book was sitting in the middle of all the Indie being released by bestselling authors using their backlist and a couple of bestselling authors from major publishers (yes I printed it so I can keep frame it in my office), I looked at my $20 cover and was in awe that it was there in the middle of them all!

The other thing I was in awe about was making money. Amazon Select has a great program. I knew I had to break through Amazon like Whispers broke through Barnes and Noble for me. It was the reason I pressed Daughter of Deceit before Vision of Destiny. I could never justify putting our family money into my writing anymore than I already had. Why?

I have three children. One that just got out of college, one that's in college, and one that just got accepted into college. Do you know how expensive college is? Really. My husband has always encouraged me to take our money and put it into my books. I hesitated. Why? Because the field is so competitive. I have never had a problem gaining attention from a publisher. I've had my books on the desk of major publishers months on end although I never could get an agent to look at me. Yet in the end with a Major publisher it always resulted in a 'glowing rejection'. Given last year my sales were pitiful, how could I take a chance on our hard earn money?

I have two books out with Wild Child Publishing. My experience at Wild Child-even though its a small publisher-highly professional when it came to the level of product they put out. My one complaint. They're a small publisher and didn't promote my books. I had to. I found it difficult to do so because I have no control over them. My mother says Patriot Secrets is my best book. It may be, but according to my numbers, no one has read it or not many. Would I recommend Wild Child to anyone? Yes, I would. I deeply appreciate the opportunity Marci gave me by publishing my books. And promoting your books is what you have to do when you're published by a small publisher. Now, though, I believe I can do more with my books. So I'll wait until I get my rights back and go Indie with both of them. Patriot Secrets has a series with it. Always has had called Winds of Betrayal.

Then I met Ruth Cardello,  and a door opened for me. I'm not a patient person. It is a fault of mine I have never been able to correct. Sending off queries, waiting to hear back, the rejections- all of that can weigh on you over time. Indie has allowed me control. But along with control though comes the responsibilities to produce a quality product. That means I have to be patient when I send off to my editor.

Then I admit a thought has been running through my little mind. Should I pull Whispers off everywhere and put it into Amazon Select? I know in my head I would make a ton more money that way. Free promotions. Attention called to my book.

But as much as I want to make money...need the money and if they're right about gas prices, I will really need the money-I refuse to turn my back on Barnes and Noble. Those fans have been great. They have over looked my editing errors and embraced my series. They have also waited patiently for my next installment.

So the bottom line. Whispers of a Legend, Part Three- Vision of Destiny is coming soon. As soon as I get the cover, I'll show it to you. After its release, I'm pulling the three installments (edits of course) into one book for print. Whispers of a Legend, Volume 1.

Then my attention will turn back to Daughter of Deceit with its edits and going into print.

I'm learning. Be patient with me.


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Daughter of Deceit- Excerpt

DAUGHTER OF DECEIT
This week has been a roller coaster. I have never been so high when it has come to my writings. I was so excited when Daughter of Deceit sprang up the ranks at Amazon. The highest point it reached #3 in Free Kindle! # 2 in Free Romance #1 in Historical Romance #1 in Romantic Suspense. After my free days it is maintaining a steady flow. At the moment its # 304 in paid Kindle, # 5 in Historical, # 7 in Historical Romance and # 18 in Romantic Suspense. For that I've been humbled. Thank you.

I wanted to write a different blog, but I have been advised not to write what I want to at the moment. Instead, I will leave you will this. I now have an editor. Whispers of a Legend, Part Three- Vision of Destiny will be released fully edited in March along with a printed copy Whispers of a Legend, Volume I. I am pulling the first three installments into one book. Also, I have plans to put Daughter of Deceit into print after it's edited.

As I promised...

Daughter of Deceit


Chapter One

The carriage trundled through the falling darkness. Alyce braced herself on the edge of her seat while the wheels beneath her slowed. Thank all that was good! The journey had stretched on too long, far too long. Her head pounded. Her body ached from the rough roads she had traveled in a short period of time. She pushed up the blind and saw the lights of an inn, a lively inn from the looks of things.
Lights and people, more people than she had seen in the last two days. Surely this quaint inn was close to civilization. She prayed they would stay the night. She had not seen a bed in ever so long. She needed to rest and wanted never set foot into a carriage again, if the truth be known. At least not in present company.
She stared across at her companions. Dear old Uncle Munford had succumbed to travel fatigue; he slept soundly for most of the journey this day. The moment the carriage stopped, she watched his head rise from the side of the carriage. He glanced over at his wife, Emma, where in truth Alyce’s immediate worry lay.
The elderly woman sat clasping her head in her hands. Alyce feared she was about to have an attack of apoplexy. Over the last eight years of living with Aunt Emma, Alyce had come to know the signs well of an eruption. Not that Alyce hadn’t expected as such, not after the week they had endured. But she had no time for an outburst. Immediately upon the carriage halting, Alyce’s hand was upon the door.
“Alyce, now don’t go and…” Uncle Munford’s word drifted off quietly. His hand rounded his wife.
“Dear uncle,” she said, using the endearment even though neither Mumford nor his wife was her true relation. “You know my concern and the answers I seek do not lie in Whickhoe.”
“You know well that Colonel Tolworthy specifically ordered you to Whickhoe.”
The door opened before Alyce attempted a response, but she made no secret of her extravagant eye-roll upon the mention of her guardian. Her imaginary guardian, if you asked her. Why, over the years she had seen him only a handful of times and never for more than a week’s visit. She pulled the hood to her cloak over her head and exited the carriage to the cool night’s air.
She paused for a moment, glancing at the sign hanging outside the entrance door, and entered the Cat and the Fiddle Inn. She hadn’t the foggiest idea where they were, but she hoped it was not too far outside of London. She had to get to London.
She looked back at the bustle of an attendant upon their post chaise. Behind him there was a fresh change of horses. Oh, good Lord! Within minutes they would be on their way once more. Not if she could help it. She could not abide another minute in that carriage with her two companions. Besides, she had to get to London or at the very least send a message to Charles. She had to.
Alyce mounted the stairs and walked into the inn without a thought. Immediately, she noticed her entry seemed to garner unwanted attention. She glanced around to find several eyes inspecting her from head to toe. Her face warmed to their scrutiny. She had not the experience of staying at an inn. The bold gazes from the men and the assumptions implied by their stares unnerved her, but she couldn’t let her discomfort keep her from her intent.
She looked back over her shoulder to see if Uncle Munford followed her, but for the life of her, he was nowhere to be seen. He must be attending to Aunt Emma, she thought. She swallowed hard and gathered herself. Her eyes swept across the crowded inn, looking around the room until she found what she assumed would be the innkeeper.
Unsure exactly what was expected of her, she moved to the side of the man, a rather hefty man with round red cheeks, and asked for two chambers for the night. To her dismay, the man turned upon her, scowling. He did not bother to hide his grimace at her appearance. She wanted to bolt.
“Do you have companions traveling with you?”
 His tone did nothing to ease her anxiety. All the years she had lived under the same roof as Uncle Munford and Aunt Emma, she had learned to handle situations on her own. She had little choice if she wanted to eat or keep warm. She would handle this as well. Determined, she pushed back the hood of her cloak.
“My uncle is seeing to my aunt. She fell ill upon our journey. They will be in here in a moment, I’m certain, and will need a room.”
The man frowned. His mouth tightened while his eyes shifted over her in the most uncomfortable manner. “I get paid up front.”
Her eyes widened in mortification. She may not have been socially adept, but she knew well she had been insulted. Her body stiffened. She hadn’t even asked if the stagecoach into London stopped here. She drew herself up to her full height and mustered all her indignation over his slight. “I take from your manners you have issue with me. If that is your position, rest assured I will not bother you further…”
Her words faded when Uncle Munford entered, hunched over with his arms tightly around Aunt Emma. She walked hastily back to them.
“Done told ’em to just put up the horses. We’ll be staying. Colonel Tolworthy won’t like it one bit, but got no choice here, not with Emma so sick and all.”
“I thought as much myself and have already asked for rooms. I’m sorry, uncle, but the gentleman apparently has none available for us. We will have to continue.”
Uncle Mumford shook his wrinkled drawn face. “Can’t, Alyce. My Emma isn’t in any shape to continue. Done gone and overdone it again. Upset and all, what with the fire.”
Oh! The smell of his sour breath overwhelmed her. She wanted nothing more than to huddle in a corner and disappear. Oh, why had Lord Cranleigh insisted upon these two escorting her? She would have been better to have traveled alone! She sighed heavily. Nothing could be done differently now. She would have to make the best of it.
Alyce’s hand rested on Uncle Munford’s back. “I will not stay here, Uncle. Why, that man insulted me when I tried to get our rooms!”
Her voice rose. She didn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and scared. Oh, terribly scared. Uncle Munford didn’t understand. It was why she had to get to London. Charles would understand the minute he heard about the fire. He would realize, as she did, that the fire was no accident.
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere, child. Did you tell ’em you’re Colonel Montague Tolworthy’s ward?” he glanced back at her. “You didn’t, by the look of you.”
Upon his reprimand, Alyce felt a tightness in the back of her throat that signaled tears. She fought them back, but her attempt turned futile. A moment later silent tears slid from the corners of her brown eyes.
“Excuse me,” a male voice said from behind her. “Perhaps I can be of service.”
Alyce turned. Straight way, she recognized the man was a gentleman. Without question his presence dominated the room. The man towered over her, a good six feet in height, with a broad physique. Devastating handsome, he was dressed in a simple but elegant, fashion: a gentleman of quality. But all of a sudden he looked dangerous to her when her eyes met his. For a moment she paused. Something about him seemed familiar...the eyes, the build. She had the distinct impression she had met him before, but that was quite impossible.
The man flashed a smile as if to reassure her. She wasn’t reassured at all.
“Pardon me. Let me introduce myself. I’m Lord Julian Casvelyn. I couldn’t help but overhear Colonel Tolworthy’s name mentioned. Is it Colonel Montague Tolworthy from Evermonde?”
Only half listening to the gentleman, she avoided looking directly into his eyes as she spoke, “Yes, I’m his ward, Alyce H…”
“Miss Alyce Rufford, my Lord,” Munford interrupted. He gave Alyce a sharp glance to silence her and bowed his head the best he could while holding his wife in his arms. “Munford Cummings, my Lord. My wife, Emma. Alyce has been in our care. Unfortunately, the cottage that had been our home burnt to the ground last week. The Colonel sent word for her to withdraw to his estate. No where else to go.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “But of course not. And you tarry from?”
“A small village outside of Plymouth, Lancefield.”
“You have traveled a great distance,” his tone abrupt and sharp. “Come. I know the Colonel well. I will take care of this misunderstanding.” He turned to Munford. “Your wife is ill?”
Alyce stood silently. She watched the stranger see to their accommodations, ignoring the glances he cast her way. She wasn’t sure what was expected of a lady in this circumstance, but if the gentleman thought she was impressed with his interference, she wasn’t. She had only one thought.
Reaching into the pocket within her cloak, she clutched tightly to her letter addressed to her dear friend, Lissa. She needed desperately to get the message to Charles. Lissa would give it to him, she was certain. It was the only way she knew he would receive it. Oh, whatever was she going to do?
A moment later, the innkeeper gestured for Alyce to follow him up the stairs. She hesitated. She needed to send the letter. She glanced over her shoulder. She would never get to send it if she retired to her room.
“Do you have another issue, Miss Rufford?” Lord Casvelyn asked from behind her.
She turned to find him beside her.
“If you are concerned about letting the Colonel know of your progress, rest assured I will be sending him a message shortly.”
She wished he hadn’t moved so close to her. His gaze all but skewered her and greatly unsettled her; she could feel an intensity of interest emanating from him. She stirred in response to his gaze. She pressed her lips together, unable to immediately respond. She thought how Charles would laugh at her and remind her how na├»ve she was to be affected by this stranger. It annoyed her that she was susceptible to his allure. Stop acting like a ninny!
“I believe I’m becoming indebted to you, my Lord. I’m certain the Colonel will be relieved to know we have made it this far under the circumstances.” Her eyes lowered staring at the letter. “It is my letter that concerns me. I need to have it delivered to my friend as soon as possible in London. I had hoped to post it before I left but found I was unable to.”
“You have stated you are Colonel Tolworthy’s ward. He would be greatly disappointed in my person if I didn’t care for your needs, I assure you.” He gave her another smile and seemed greatly amused at her expense. “What if I show you my good intentions? Do you want the note delivered to your friend?”
“Yes,” she said. Her manner eased slightly. “I would be so greatly appreciative. Can it be delivered immediately?”
“If it is that important to you, I will see to it.”
“She will get it tonight?” she questioned again before she handed him the letter.
“I will see to it, Miss Rufford.”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a young lad interrupted her. “Is this all ya got?”
Alyce looked at the boy holding her valise. It must have seemed odd she had no trunks, only one valise which held all the items she could call her own. It was only by the goodness in Lady Cranleigh that she had any clothes at all. She nodded, but could not help but notice the look Lord Casvelyn directed toward her as the boy passed up the stairs. She said nothing more, but followed the lad up the stairs.
* * * *
Lord Julian Gillespie Vernon Casvelyn, the Earl of Pentilyon, and a host of all assorted titles, poured himself a glass of port. He drank down the entire contents while he pondered the information his man, Jamieson, had only just discovered on this Alyce Rufford. Still he wondered who the hell she was! To say he was taken quite by surprise when his grandfather’s name was mentioned as her guardian was an understatement. He had no doubt of her deception, for he would have well known if his grandfather had a ward.
In all, he had more questions than answers. It was no coincidence his grandfather had sent for him and now this young woman claimed to be his ward. No, he didn't believe in coincidences. He didn't believe in fate. He no longer believed in many things, not since he lost his brother, Roland. It had been eight long years since the death of his best friend...his twin. In that time he had lived with regret, guilt, and anger with so very little to give meaning to his life knowing his brother should have never died. The unfairness of it all!
Nor was he sure what to make of the information Jamieson had gathered. The coachmen who drove the carriage were in the employment of a baron from Lancefield, Lord Nigel Cranleigh. According to the information, Lord Cranleigh had requested the young lady be delivered to Colonel Montague Tolworthy in Whickhoe in quick measure. The men confirmed that his grandfather was indeed the girl's guardian, informing Jamieson that Colonel Tolworthy had ventured to Lancefield a few times in the past years.
 One of the coachmen also confirmed that Alyce's note was intended to go to his employer's daughter, the Honorable Mrs. Melissa Breck, with whom Alyce seemed to have been educated. Not much else had he learned other than this Alyce Rufford lived a quiet existence until the fire. The whole of the cottage where she lived burnt to the ground in the dead of night a little over a week ago. Nothing was left, and it was fortunate that no lives were lost.
"Nothing else, Jamieson? I want to know of her. Who is she? Why is my grandfather her guardian and I know nothing of it?”
“I'm sorry, my Lord. I can’t answer that, my Lord. All know her as Alyce Rufford, a name which has no significance to any. It is thought your grandfather owed the girl’s father, perhaps a soldier’s daughter? He brought her to Lancefield seven or eight years ago. It may have been during the time of your lordship’s brother’s death. Perhaps your grandfather didn’t want to bother you with a triviality.”
Julian pondered the situation a moment more before deciding his next move. The lady had immediately caught his attention entering the inn unattended. Upon first glance she seemed intent upon her purpose, unaware of her surroundings or the attention she caused entering alone. His thoughts were of a meeting with a clandestine lover until she lowered the hood exposing her face for all to see.
No, she had the look of one lost, glancing around the room, unsure of what she sought. Lovely, he had thought, with her thick brunette hair upswept calling attention to those large expressive eyes. Her clothes were of quality, but quite out of style. Seeing her distress, he rose to offer help to the lady, only to be taken by surprise in hearing his own grandfather’s name mentioned. No, there was something peculiar going on here and only one could answer for him.
Julian pulled his watch out of his waist coat pocket. Almost nine o’clock. If he left now for Evermonde he would be there well ahead of the lady. He finished off another glass and turned to Jamieson. “Prepare to leave within the hour.”
* * * *
Alyce prepared for bed. The tray of food delivered for her sat untouched. Aunt Emma lay in the room next to hers, having succumbed to the vapors. Shortly after retiring to their rooms, Aunt Emma cried for Uncle Munford not to leave her.
"Perhaps, Alyce, it would be best if I took Emma to my room," Uncle Munford uttered, trying to calm his wife. "At least for a time."
 Alyce agreed. But the walls between their rooms were thin, and she heard all their words clearly when they talked, even Aunt Emma's mumbled incoherently words.
"The Devil’s after her. Old Mistress Nancarrow warned me. She did."
"Now...now...Emma, Alyce's a sweet child. Nothin' wrong 'cept your nerves are on edge with the fire."
 "Yes. Yes. The fire. Tell me how she knew, Munford. I'll tell you. A restless spirit. You think it too. It's best we go. Leave her."
"You silly woman. You listen too much to stupid superstition. She saved us. Here, here. Calm yourself. Drink."
After listening to the conversation between Aunt Emma and Uncle Munford, Alyce came to the realization that the two of them wanted nothing more than to hand her over to Colonel Tolworthy and relieve themselves of their responsibilities as fast as possible.
Old rumors and whispers reemerged after the fire. Devil's spawn, witches' child. What more did one expect in the land of Cornish legends when Alyce suddenly appeared one day out of nowhere? Not exactly nowhere, but no place any could know.
Alyce arrived in Lancefield unannounced in the dead of night on the doorsteps of the Cranleigh's manor. She stayed only a short time at the manor before she began her life on the moors in a small cottage...a life no longer her own. Lord Cranleigh set rules for her existence within Lancefield. A new name. A new life. Introduced to Uncle Munford and Aunt Emma, she was told in no uncertain terms to accept the story of their connection to her. She could do little else. She was no more than twelve at the time.
Lady Cranleigh made light of the rumors that rose from her appearance. The lady of the manor gave no credence to mystic legends of ghosts and demons. At the time, Alyce thought little of the others' stares upon her. She cared naught. Taken away from the only life she had known...the only people she had ever loved.
Over the years, the rumors died out. The whispers behind her back ceased until...until the fire. It destroyed more than the house she had lived in. The fire destroyed the illusion she had created that she could live without searching for the truth. She had tried. Charles had helped her, but his father quickly quenched her hunt for the life she had known.
Though in truth, strange things had begun to occur well before the fire, things that frightened Alyce. Dreams. She had dreamed before but not like this. So real. So terrifying.
Alyce crawled into bed, gripping tight to the covers around her. She had no desire to be alone, but Aunt Emma was in no shape to be pulled away from Uncle Munford and the comfort she sought from the bottle. The woman didn't want to be around her.
Laying her head down on the pillow, she heard commotion from the tavern beneath her. Down stairs the night had only begun by the sounds of the patrons. Sleep would not come easy this night.
Sleep had not come easy since the night of the fire. She shivered. The smell of the smoke hadn't left her. Sound asleep...if not for the voice calling to her.
Mary. Mary. Mary Alyce!
Alyce sprang up from the pillow. The feeling hit her-the same icy chill she had felt before. The same voice called to her, like the night of the fire. She hadn't dreamed it. She wasn't asleep. Glancing around the room, a chill encompassed her though the fire in the hearth illuminated warmth. Her heart pounded. She swallowed hard. Oh, she wished Aunt Emma was with her. Maybe she should check on her.
She eased off the bed. Walking in soft steps, she grasped her night robe over the chair by the fireplace. Suddenly she heard a sound. A quick glance behind her, she froze. The handle of the door turned...

Julian had certainly not expected his day to unfold as it had. He buttoned up his coat and closed the door behind him. Jamieson had his horse saddled and readied to ride. With the weather warming, the ride wouldn’t be unpleasant. Perhaps he could settle all quickly and return to London before the week’s end. Atkinson waited for his input on the situation arising across the channel.
Walking down the hall, loud voices echoed upward from the tavern below. He would not have found much sleep this night if he stayed not with the boisterous group that had arrived shortly after his encounter with Miss Rufford. Giving the quite respectable reputation of this inn, he wondered why the innkeeper allowed the disruption. Perhaps he should leave Jamieson to watch over Miss Rufford. He seriously doubted that her companions would deter any issues if they arose, not that any should. At this time of night, Miss Rufford should be tucked in soundly.
Turning the corner, a movement caught his eyes. Did his eyes deceive him? He could have sworn someone made a quick entrance into the far room down the hall. Frowning, he followed the direction of the distraction. On closer inspection he noticed the door slightly ajar. Moving nearer, he pressed the door back. Alarm crashed through him as he saw an intruder draw back his arm clutching tightly a knife which gleamed in the firelight.
“Bloody hell!” Julian cried, rushing forward. “Halt!”
Too late, the knife thrust downward toward the bed. A loud feminine scream emerged in the dimly lit room. He lunged for the assailant, knocking him down upon the floor. The assailant pushed back. The two tumbled, but Julian was stronger. His fist pounded upon the chin of the goon. Gripping the jacket of the man, Julian pulled the man upward.
"Look out!"
Glancing back, a blow to his temple sent him sprawling. The impact sent him falling backward. Julian caught himself only to stare into a barrel of a pistol. A turmoil of movement caught his eyes. Suddenly cold water drenched him followed by a porcelain pitcher crashing to the floor. He grasped the gun, gripping the man’s wrist fighting desperately for control. A loud crack snapped through the chamber.
For a moment Julian felt nothing. He looked down. The sleeve to his coat scorched and torn, he uttered, “Damnation!”
Holding his arm, he watched the intruder up and run. He pulled back his hand and saw red blood oozing from the wound. Ignoring the searing pain, he ran out the door and scrambled down the corridor. Too late, the assailant was no where to be seen. Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Excited shouts came echoed from below.
Through the assembly of souls accumulating within the corridor, Jamieson emerged.
“My Lord!” he raced to his side. “Your arm!”
“Yes, yes, Jamieson. Some intruders broke into that room with a knife,” Julian pointed to the open door. His voice carried over the onslaught of noise surrounding him. “Did you see them? One was a large burly fellow in a black cape. We need to…”
“There is no need, my Lord.” The innkeeper pushed through the men wearing an expression of worry. Relief replaced it. “I saw the man. He rode off with his two friends, heading on the road toward London. The scum! I’ll have my man call for the justice of the peace. The villains!”
The innkeeper attention turned to Julian’s bloody arm. He turned and snapped his fingers. “Tomais, send after the surgeon. His lordship has been wounded.”
“There is no need,” Julian eyed the man with contempt. It was too late to rectify his gratification, not with being shot. The innkeeper reached toward Julian's arm to examine the damage.
“Get your hands off of me!” Julian commanded, swinging around. “It was not me the assailants were after. It was the occupant of the room. I saw someone entered and  discovered the foe stabbing the poor soul in the bed.”
Ignoring the gathering of curiosity seekers in the corridor, he skirted back into the room and looked at the bed. Feathers littered the room. Water soaked the floor, but his eyes lit on the figure by the fire. Standing in her night gown and wrap, she looked up at him. Her face reflected in the firelight, soft and feminine, very feminine.
He didn't say anything but stared at her with thoughts running rapid in his mind...things that he shouldn't even be thinking about at this moment. She looked so vulnerable with her hair falling down her back, her figure silhouetted by the firelight, her eyes so expressive...so desirable...
His grandfather’s ward. He stepped forward toward her. Her eyes brimmed with tears and the hand covering her mouth shook.
“Are you injured?” he asked, glancing again around the chamber to ensure there wasn’t another assailant hiding. Satisfied, he looked back at her and asked again. “Are you injured?”
She spoke no words, but shook her head.
He nodded in response. Where was her aunt? Good lord had her companions left her alone at the inn? Then from behind him he heard the innkeeper entered with her companions in tow, gripping tight to each other. Julian stepped back in disgust, bombarded by the odor of rum.
One hand against the wall, the lady grasped her husband for support. “You…you. Cursed. I have always known you were cursed.” Her wrinkled old hand gripped her husband's coat. She cried. “I told you. The Devil is after her. I told you she’s marked.”
“Quiet, Emma!” Uncle Munford uttered under his breath.
The innkeeper pushed aside the two, pointing a finger at the lady. “I knew you were trouble the moment you walked in. Here I am trying to run a respectable establishment…”
“Shut up, you dim-witted simpleton! I spoke for the lady. Do you question the word of a gentleman? More I would say to your establishment for letting in those ruffians wanting to harm the lady,” Julian snapped. He would have none of fostering the blame for the innkeeper’s failings upon his grandfather’s ward.
The innkeeper backed away.
“I beg your forgiveness, Lord Casvelyn. I had my misgivings, but the lot of them gave reference to his Grace, Lord Roger Sinclair. They presented his card.”
“I doubt seriously if any had connections to Lord Sinclair!” Julian uttered in a loud angry voice.
“They paid upfront,” the innkeeper said, lowering his objection. Instead his intent turned to one of defensive of his own station. He turned to the door. “They will not bother anyone again this night. I will see to it.”
“As will my man,” Julian nodded toward Jamieson. “Let me know when the justice’s men arrive.”
“It may well be the morning before any arrive, my Lord,” the innkeeper hesitated before offering the information.
Julian sighed. His frustration weighed upon each breath. The man had no desire to interrupt the justice’s sleep!
“Jamieson, the men are long gone, but go see if any recognized any of the assailants,” Julian commanded.
Julian watched until Jamieson disappeared down the stairs. He turned back to find the innkeeper fidgeting in the same spot.
 “If you do not want the surgeon called forth, do you need attention for your arm?” the innkeeper asked.
“Send up fresh water and clean cloth,” Julian said removing his hand from the wound. The bleeding had slowed. “Now, pray leave.”
“What of the lady?” The man glanced over at the silent woman and her companions in disdain. “I do not want them wandering about my property. They have caused enough commotion…”
“I would hold my tongue. My patience is worn. I will handle the situation. I expect you will take care that the magistrate is prompt in his attention to the assailants. Leave now.”
Julian dismissed the man with such firm authority that the innkeeper straight away withdrew taking the remaining audience with him.
Julian closed the door. His eyes fixed on his grandfather’s ward. Trouble for certain! Oh, what had his grandfather gotten himself into becoming her guardian?
“I’ll not take her,” the old woman cried wobbling toward him. She waved her hands in a disordered fashion. “No. We’ll all be struck dead…"
“Shut her up,” Julian demanded turning his attention back to the problem before him. He wasted no time trying to talk sense to the inebriated old woman. He directed his words at her husband. “Take her and her ranting away from me. I will not tolerate such nonsense.”
He turned his attention back to his grandfather's ward. The lady made no effort to detain her companions.  Impatient, he gestured for her to come with him.
“Come I will not find the answers I seek within this room.”
At first he thought she was going to protest, but her eyes fell upon his wound. She followed him timidly down the hall back into his chamber. He almost kicked the door opened. After she entered, he slammed the door soundly behind them, shaking the wall.
Julian sat on the bed. Wincing, he slid off his wet waistcoat and tore off the remnants of his tattered shirt sleeve. Upon closer examination, the bullet had only grazed him, but well scorched his arm. Not a pretty sight, blackened and bloodied.
“Do you want me to care for it?”
He looked over at her. In the better light of his room, he found his opinion of her changed little. She had a flawless complexion enhanced by the silkiness of her long dark eyelashes. Her wavy long hair hung loose framing her oval face. Brown eyes were illuminated with fear and trembles shook her. She looked like a sacrificial virgin waiting to be offered to the gods, frightened half out of her mind.
The door opened without a knock, bringing him back to his immediate needs. He turned to see a maid scurry in. She quickly bobbed a curtsy to Julian and placed a basin and bucket of water near the table by the bed. She laid clean cloths on the mattress. She hurried out closing the door behind her, but not before giving Alyce a strange stare.
“I should well send for your aunt. It will be bad enough..."
“Neither are my true relations. If I'm not mistaken, I believe they are quite relieved to be done with me," she said bluntly.
"I find it difficult to believe that Colonel Tolworthy would have hired two such as the ones that were escorting you."
"I don't believe he cared, my Lord. I haven't seen Colonel Tolworthy for two years. I have been an obligation at best."
His face fell in disbelief of her frank words. Who was this woman to talk in his manner about his grandfather?
"Miss Rufford, Colonel Tolworthy is a gentleman. No matter the obligation, he would have well seen to your needs. I'll be damned if I'll condemn the Colonel for behavior that I have had no knowledge of the circumstances. I find it even harder to believe that a young gentlewoman has assailants after her for no reason."
He grimaced upon his utterance for expelling his frustration he caused his arm to bleed once more. He swallowed hard not to let a groan escape in his attempt to take his damp shirt off. She moved toward him.
“Here let me help,” she said. Her attention fixed firmly on his wound. Her soft hands pulled the tattered fabric from his injury. “It needs to be washed and dressed properly.”
He leaned up, pulled his shirt out of his pants, and then unbuttoned it.  A moment later his ragged shirt lay on the bed and she began cleansing the wound.
If she was shocked to see him half-naked, she did not show it. Neither did she flinch at the sight of the gash the shot left. Calmly and efficiently, she washed and dressed the wound. Her face showed no emotion while she went through the motions.
“Are you going to tell me who attempted to kill you?” he asked.
Seemingly too shocked and frightened to endeavor to come up with another version of the happenings, she breathed out deeply, but said nothing. She kept washing. With his other hand, he stopped her.
"You stated you are Colonel Tolworthy’s ward. Since he is not here, you are left in my care. Come, you must have suspected something. You weren’t in the bed. I take it that you did attempt to disarm the scoundrels with the end result of my being drenched.”
She gazed mutely down. Refusing to accept silence, Julian looked directly at young woman and lifted her face with a firm hold. Making no effort to withdraw from him, she shifted her eyes back to his. He smiled at her for it was impossible not to and waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke.
“I must apologize for dousing you. It was not my intent. I meant to hit him. He was readied to shoot you. It was all I had within reach. I quite forgot it was filled with water…” She drew in a deep breath. Then in an obvious attempt to change the subject, she said. “This isn’t proper. Far from it, my Lord.”
“Without question. Highly inappropriate, but it is not often that an attempt is made on one’s life. Is it? I'll make an effort to find someone to see to you after our talk. But at this time of the night, it may well be that I can only offer you this room and my protection. I will stand guard at the front door.”
She hesitated then nodded, but offered no insight to her dilemma. Only her eyes...her eyes held fear in them. He pressed her, “Since your companions aren’t in any shape to see to your needs, it would seem the duty falls to me.”
“Oh, please, my Lord, what do you want me to say? I apologize. I didn’t mean to put you into the middle of this. In truth, none of this would have happened if I had gone to London, to Lissa, as was my wish. She would see to my well being, but the Colonel’s note detailed I go straight way to Evermonde. I’m certain if he realized that my welfare could be seen to by another, he would have no objections.”
Again her words took him by surprise insinuating that his grandfather ignored her care. “The Colonel doesn’t see to your welfare?”
"You misunderstand,” her voice quivered. She watched him with caution, guarding her words. “He sees to my care, if that is what you are asking. But truthfully, I have only met Colonel Tolworthy a few times in my life. I was fostered upon him. I believe he would be quite content without the problems I present, but it will not be for much longer. I’m sure you are not interested in my story, although I am deeply appreciative of your defense of me this night.”
“Then you are mistaken that I do not want to know your story. I do not take lightly being shot at for an unknown reason.”
“Then pray forgive me. I trust few and none that I do not know,” she said.
His eyes blazed at her for dismissing his request. Taking the clothe from her hand, he took her hand in his. “This isn’t a request, Alyce Rufford. This isn’t a game. Do you not believe that the events beg for an explanation? I need to know what I’m dealing with.”
She tried to withdraw her hand, but he tightened his grip. She said in a voice not much louder than a whisper, “It is not your concern, my Lord. Nor is it the Colonel’s. And who are you to answer for him. A relative of some sort?”
"Yes," he said. He had no desire to divulge more. "He has never mentioned you."
A slight laugh escaped her lips. "Are you asking me why he would have done so? I'm sorry if you are looking for information from me. I hold none. I have only been told what to do and not to do. And learning about my past has to do with the latter."
"The Colonel knows of your life before I take it and he has not offered it you?" He edged closer to her.
"I know who I am," she said defensively. This time her eyes met his unwavering. "My father looked after my needs before his death. I'm not poor. In fact I have only a few more months than I will have my inheritance and will not be a burden on the Colonel. I will not be beholden to anyone."
“Then what have you done to cause someone to seek your life?” His face set in a stern expression.
Suddenly the day’s events took its toll upon her. He watched her legs buckle beneath her. She sat down beside him, shaking her head.
“Perhaps, my Lord, perhaps I do have need of you at the moment. Your assumption is correct. Someone wants me dead. I had thought the fire was set. I told Lord Cranleigh, but he thought that Aunt Emma in one of her episodes had started it. I wrote the Colonel to let me go to London.” She paused, running her trembling hand through her hair. “You would not understand. You know where you come from, your family. What if all was taken away from you? What if all you had thought true was taken from you?”
“We all have our burdens to bear, Miss Rufford. What has that got to do with someone trying to kill you?”
Defiantly, she pushed back the hair from her face. “Because, my lord, I want to right the wrong of my father’s death.” 

Thursday, February 16, 2012

What a Ride!


There were several reasons I decided to publish Daughter of Deceit before the third installment of Whispers of a Legend. My main reason was to try to break through Amazon. Over on Barnes and Nobles, Whispers has set up a nice little home, steady and comfortable. Barnes and Nobles has always been good to me, but Amazon...in the Indie World we need Amazon!

DAUGHTER OF DECEIT
I know most of you realize that offering a free book even for a short period of time is an attempt to give a reader a glimpse of  the author's writing.

Starting Valentine's Day and ending today, Daughter of Deceit is being offered for FREE! 


Whispers of a Legend has been free for a little over a month on Amazon. I have been extremely happy the sales of Whispers of a Legend, but...nothing prepared me for what Daughter of Deceit did yesterday.

From the time Daughter of Deceit went free, it shot up high on the charts. Amazon updates their rankings hourly. At one point yesterday, Daughter of Deceit was ranked # 3 on FREE Kindle Reads! Not only that, but it was ranked #2 in Romance, #1 in Historical Romance and # 1 in Romance Suspense.

At the time I'm writing this blog, Daughter of Deceit is ranked #7 on FREE Kindle Reads, #5 in Romance, #2 in Historical Romance, and #2 on Romantic Suspense.

I can't begin to tell you the thrill I rode yesterday. I can't describe the feeling. If only for a brief moment in time, I was on the charts! My book of course was in the free column and Hunger Games the paid column, but it sat across from Hunger Games...one of my favorite books on the Top 100 on Amazon Kindle.

I know...I know that it like claiming you knew someone through your cousin's uncle's girlfriend. I don't care. For that moment, it was a thrill to see my book on the same page.

Have so many people to thank for letting everyone know Daughter of Deceit was free (and still is today). EReaders News Today was so kind as to post my book. Then my author friends...You will be seeing many of them in the coming weeks on Novel Works and also Indies Unlimited.

And thank everyone that has downloaded Daughter of Deceit. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you!

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

My Valentine Gift for You!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Today I'm giving everyone a gift. Not roses although I love roses. Not candy or even a Be My Valentine card.
DAUGHTER OF DECEIT
Today I'm giving away one of my books- Daughter of Deceit.

I chose today because its Valentine's Day and everyone needs a little romance on Valentine's Day. It's FREE today, tomorrow and the next day on Amazon.

Enjoy! Have a wonderfully Romantic day!


Saturday, February 11, 2012

WHISPERS OF A LEGEND SAGA

Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords

Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords
























This week Whispers of a Legend, Part One- Shadows of the Past finally broke through on Amazon shooting up the charts to #130 books on Free Kindle at one point! It's #1 in Family Sagas!


I have to take a minute to thank EReaders News Today. One mention on his blog and immediately I began to see the downloads climb. We all need help in getting the word out when you're an Indie. It's essential to reach out and promote, but I also want to take the time to thank someone when they were kind enough to mention my book. 


Now my attention turns to the sequels and the options before me concerning my series. Once more my book is doing well over on Barnes and Noble. Whisper of a Legend, Part Two- The Path Now Turned has remained steady in sales at Barnes and Noble. I'm hoping to see the same at Amazon now. 


Are you wondering about Part Three- Vision of Destiny? I'm revising it at the moment. Coming soon, I promise. Taking my time and not rushing through it. Still on course to be released at the end of the month...no later than the beginning of March. 


I want you to know that I'm reading all my reviews- the good...I have been so humbled by some of the comments. 
"Carrie James Haynes has potential to be next well known scifi/fantasy author."
"One thing that struck me all the way through both books was that I could visualize it playing on the big screen. I hope that someone picks up on that and makes a movie out of it or even a TV series. It definitely has the potential to be a good movie!!!"
"What an emotionally gripping story. I love the protagonist strength. She endures much for the safety of her family and her sense of duty."


The not so good- too short and editing...
I'll make no bones about the fact I miss an editor. Too short- it was intentional to go between 30,000-35,000 words with each of these installments. 


If you remember when I released Whispers of a Legend, Part One- Shadows of the Past I told everyone that I took my first book of a trilogy and divided it up into three parts. That's a potential to have nine installments or if the feeling is everyone would rather have a whole novel at a time...I will consider it. But at the moment, the first three installments will be pulled back into one book after the release of Vision of Destiny. I will release a print copy of Whispers of a Legend, Volume I which will include all three installments. 


Thanks for the feedback. Keep it coming! 

Monday, February 6, 2012

DAUGHTER OF DECEIT Excerpt

                                                        
                                                        DAUGHTER OF DECEIT


Released! Have a special announcement for Daughter of Deceit next week just in time for Valentine's Day.

Someone wants Alyce Hythe dead…

Shunned from London society for being the daughter of England’s most notorious spy, Alyce Hythe desires only to clear her father’s name. For years, she has been hidden away from all prying eyes, given a new identity and told to forget who she was. But strange things have been happening causing old rumors to once more be whispered. 

Long has Lord Julian Casvelyn lived with guilt brought on when his brother was murdered by England’s most infamous traitor. But one eventful night has changed everything Lord Julian believed about his brother’s death. Never did he suspect the woman he has just saved from certain harm is the daughter of that man. Now Julian is caught in midst of a conspiracy and desire for that woman.

Thrown together by fate, the two search for answers long denied them and along the way discover a love that can free them both.



Excerpt



Thankful indeed she could breathe again at least for a moment. She turned to stand by Lissa, but instead she froze upon the sight. The last person she ever expected to see this night stood in front of her.
She froze in her spot. His wide mouth curved into a vague smile which could easily turn hard she suspected. He looked quite striking, handsome and elegant in his crisp black and white evening clothes. His dark eyes darkened intensely upon her. Before she had a chance to protest, his arm gripped her elbow firmly.
“Oh, no, my dear, I think not,” his utterance carried a hard edge which startled her. “I have long tried to gain an audience with you and have been reputed one way or another. If you choose to make a scene, it will not bode well for you. You may have been hiding in the nest of the Arungdon, but I can guarantee you that legally you are still the ward of my grandfather and I…”
“Please, Lord Casvelyn, you do not have to resort to threats,” she turned her head to see if any other's attention lay upon them, but none seemed interested. Her gaze shifted back to him. “What, pray, could you have to talk to me? Charles did send his appreciation for you saving me. He assured me he had taken care of the situation and the magistrate...”
“Come. Come. Miss Rufford…or should I say Hythe. I believe there is much we could talk of.”
She glanced back over her shoulder as he edged her along beside him. “Where are you taking me? It will not be proper…”
He cut her words short. “No one will see, I can assure you. I have arranged how I can I say this a few minutes where we will not be disrupted. Then you can rush back to your lordship.”
She watched Lord Casvelyn nod to a man in front of him, a tall man tawny hair and blue eyes. The man nodded back. Immediately, she felt herself being flung into a side door, closing tightly behind her. She could only imagine why Lord Casvelyn thought it necessary to have a guard at the door.
The room was small, quaint in appearance. There was no fire lit nor candle only the moonlit shone in light. He gestured to her to sit upon a settee. She hesitated, but then complied. To her dismay he sat beside her.
She found it difficult to catch a breath with him so near. He stared at her in a manner which made her remember all too well being in his arms with his lips upon hers.
“Now will you please explain yourself so I can rejoin Charles.”
“Ah, yes, the love of your life. I have heard. Unfortunately, I tend to doubt your proclamation of feelings.”
She stared at him and he returned it. He sat close to her, too close. She scooted back but he moved, allowing only her a scant space between her and this man who made her skin shiver with just his touch. “How dare you,” she uttered under her breath. “You don’t know me. Charles and I love each other greatly…”
“Do you?” he asked in a low voice. “Are you in the habit of sharing kisses with another while in the deep throbs of love for another? Come. Do not think I have forgotten having you in my arms. Kissing you, touching you...if not interrupted, perhaps it would have lead to more than...”
She slapped him, hard, and attempted to rise. He thwarted her with his two strong hands, pulling her down to him.
“You are no gentleman!”
“Perhaps,” he answered her, but his voice softened. “Perhaps.”
His hands released her back to her seat. What did he do to her that made her act as if she had not a reasonable thought in her head?
"Tell me, Miss Hythe, what are you up to? What plan do you have? Don’t think your friend, Lord Tregilgas can save you. If I so desire, I can have you escorted out under my care.”
“You make no sense, Lord Casvelyn. You come to me with demands that I return with you. Why should I? True, Colonel Tolworthy is my guardian, but in truth I barely know him. I have been on my own for a great deal of time of my life. Why should I be a burden to him now? It is only a few months more than I will not be.”
“Listen to me carefully, my dear. I had no knowledge that you still resided within England until three weeks ago. In all I find the whole of the situation unacceptable. I’m trying to rectify this. Believe me. I believe you are in danger.”
“Then do not worry about me. Charles has seen to my safety. You may question me, but I trust Charles. He would never allow harm to befall me as I would never allow harm to him.”
“Answer me this. Do you know no matter if you hold your father is innocent, the world does not? No matter if your young Marques holds to you, you are walking into social damnation, fair or unfair. It will not be pleasant. How long do you think it will take for someone to figure out who you are? I would wager it will not be long. And then there is the matter of the threat upon your life?”
“You are mistaken that I am trying to run from my name. I am not. I have all my life since my father’s death faced his disgrace although I was unaware of it until I was seventeen. No one thought it necessary to inform me how my father died. All I knew was that he was dead. Not until Charles told me. He has been my only true friend, my Lord. I have only once visited my father’s grave and it was only through Charles I did so. Do you know what it is like to see your father’s grave ostracized from holy ground for they deem he committed suicide?”
“I know lost. I feel it every day. I dealt with my brother’s death knowing that the fiend that killed him also lay in the ground. But with your words you uttered to me, I find myself questioning all about my brother’s death. And with those words, I questioned the wisdom in allowing you this Season.”
As he spoke, he astonished her with his movement, transforming her back to that night, that room, that embrace. He moved closer, so close it seemed she could no longer claim air between them. His arms encircled her and pulled her face upward toward his. His touch startled her. She looked at him in surprise. She saw his intent, yet made no resistance. Wanting to protest, her body rebelled against the thought.
A gasp escaped her lips as he lowered his head to hers. His lips moved against hers, firm yet yielding. She melted into the sensation his kiss inflicted, the thrilling excitement and warmth flowing through her body. Her mind told her to resist though her body paid no attention to the warning. Instead, she responded to him. Gently he prodded her lips with his tongue to part. Slowly as if giving her time to get used to the idea, he slipped his tongue inside.
Within her a voice called to her to be sensible. He was dallying with her, no more, no less to prove his point. Yet, she ignored the voice choosing instead to surrender to the want within her and parted her lips fully to admit him. An intimacy flowed within her, so wonderful, awakening parts of her body she didn’t know were alive.
His arms tightened around her as pleasure cascaded through out her body. His kiss lingered. He didn’t stop with one. He kissed her again and again, astonishing her and evoking shivers that flowed down her body. A series of pleasurable sensations left her crying for more. He kissed her again, more aggressive, more demanding. Within her she had long lost any rational thought for he had her mesmerized.
She felt his hand move up and down her back. Her skin felt hot with his touch. His hand moved upward until it cupped her nape, caressing her. She could not believe what his meandering touch did to her. His lips descended down her chin to her neck. A cry escaped her when his lips found a sensitive spot which sent vibrations cascading through out her. Sensations she had never known yet desired. She had never been held in this way by anyone. Never had she felt so alive.
The next moment he held her head in his hands as if she was his captive. He ravished her mouth. Shock tensed through her. She could feel the need within him for her submit. Then as if reason took hold, he drew back. His eyes never left her widen eyes. He reached over and in a slow gentle motion caressed her face.
“Tell me now of this undying love you have for another,” he said demanding an answer from her.
Wordless, she sat still unable to move. His fingers played with her curls while she tried to compose herself. She grasped hold of his hand to stop his play.
“Don’t,” she said finding her voice. “Have you not humiliated me enough? Do you hate me so much that you seek revenge in this manner? How can you be so cruel?”
To her dismay tears welled. He immediately cupped her cheek, wiping an escape tear back.
“I seek no revenge upon you, Alyce. I wanted only for you to be honest with me. Tell me that you do not feel what is between us. In all I do apologize. For all is my fault. I succumbed to my impulse. For that I apologize, but that is all.”
Her eyes dried and her heart softened. A memory stirred within her, a familiarity...a time long ago. “Why do I feel as I know you, Lord…”
“Perhaps my brother. He was my twin. And my name is Julian, Alyce. Call me Julian. I need your help. In this know someone doesn’t want you reappearing. You will be in danger exposing yourself. You already are.”
“I want only to clear my father’s name, Lord…,” she stuttered. She couldn’t find it within her to call him Julian. Her face grimaced with the worry she held within her for he had a control of her she couldn’t explain. She should hate him. Beside all his words to the contrary, he was her sworn enemy.
When Charles had shown her the paper with the announcement of her father’s death, his words, the man beside her now, had declared within the article her father a coward for his actions and all his house. The venom of his words carried through the paper as if she had stood before him. It was the first time she comprehended the depth of hatred toward her father. She had lived with that knowledge for the last three years.
Charles teased her dreadfully about her behavior at the inn, but in the same breath declared Lord Casvelyn a scoundrel for his actions forgetting that the man had saved her life. She wondered if Lord Casvelyn had known who she was would he have done the same. And she had allowed him once more to put her off guard. He was without a doubt a scoundrel, but she was a ninny for allowing his behavior. Oh, what he must think of her. Unworldly, unsophisticated, easily manipulated. Quite simply a simpleton!
She shook her head, recoiling back from him. She needed to put space between herself and this man.
“I don’t know if our purposes are the same. I know only that my father was no traitor, Lord Casvelyn. You come to me like this…It is not acceptable. I will heed your warning.”
His mocking eyes watched her. She wished he wouldn’t look at her in that manner as if she had just done something scandalous. His gaze never left her. She pressed her hands against his chest when he moved toward her again. “Pray come near me again and I will scream.”
“And it will not help your cause. Simply put, my lady. I do not have to reason with you.”
“What, pray, could you want from me, Lord Casvelyn? For the life of me, I don’t understand your actions this day. Why have you come to disrupt my life worst than it already is?”
“I told you,” he said bluntly, sitting back. “I need your help.”
“I have nothing of value until I turn one and twenty. What do you want from me?”
His eyes glanced over her with a small smug smile emerging. “Have you not gathered what I desire from you, Alyce?”
Her heart fluttered. She had told him more with her actions than he would ever believe with her words. Her mind rapidly tried to take control of her emotions. Charles was right. Lord Casvelyn had been dallying with her which implied her thought her fast. The insinuation bothered her more than she cared to admit. Her reputation already tarnished beyond hope being her father’s daughter. She reprimanded herself greatly. 
"And this you want is in my best interest, my Lord?”
“Better than what his Grace plans. You do not think that the Duke will ever allow his son to marry you. I don’t know why he is dangling this hope of a Season in front of you with hopes of marrying his son, but it will only lead to a scandal. Of that I can assure you. Which makes me wonder what he is trying to accomplish.”
Suddenly, her instincts turned to protecting Charles. What did Lord Casvelyn know? “I do not need to be told what Lord Tregilgas feels about me, but in all I know he loves his son. As do I. Make no mistake about how I feel about Charles. I will never do anything to harm him.”
She backed away from the man in front of her. She lowered her gaze, patting down her skirt. “It was unforgivable of me to allow you to touch me in that manner, but do not mistake my weakness as a sign I don’t care for Charles.”
She looked up to find him studying her.
“So you are not going in this blind. You know of what is planned for you. And it does not bother you?”
“It is none of your concern, but this I will tell you. I have no one in my life, Lord Casvelyn, except Charles. You ask if I know what I face. In that I’m not sure, except it is necessary. For what reason is none of your concern. And it is mine to own. Do you think it could be worse than what I have faced since I lost my father?”
She once more attempted to rise. He stood grabbing hold of her arm. “And you are mistaken that I wish you harm. Wait but a moment. Listen to me. Your words that stated that you wanted to prove your father innocence. Who have you told?”
She pushed against his grip, uttering ardently. “Three years ago anyone who would listen, but to no avail. I tried when I searched for Fennimore’s sister the last time I came to London. No one pays attention to the words of a daughter of a branded traitor.”
"I did,” Julian said. “And do you not think if your words hold true that I would not do anything in my power to find the one that did kill my brother? Do you not think I do not know that the medallion would not have been given to you if Roland didn’t want you protected? I want the truth, Alyce. Mark my word I will not rest until I uncover it no matter what it is.”
She stopped her resistance and stared upon him. The intensity of his words ebbed into her soul. Her eyes met his. She wanted so desperately to believe him. She whispered, “You want something from me.”
Gone was the mocking smile, the gleam in his eyes. He said simply. “I want you to help me uncover the truth.”