The Gentleman’s Promise
Frances Fowlkes
(Daughters of Amhurst, #3)
Published by: Entangled Publishing
Publication date: April 17th 2017
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance
A social pariah due to her scandalous activities, Lady Sarah Beauchamp yearns for redemption to obtain a husband. The assistance of Society darling Mr. Jonathon Annesley gives her hope of success. However, the more effort he puts into helping her, the more she realizes the only esteem she wishes to earn is that of the handsome Jonathon. However, her reputation would potentially ruin his political aspirations.Offering a gentleman’s promise to help his sister’s friend regain the favor of the ton should be easy for son of a viscount, Jonathon Annesley. After all, he’s well liked and considered a rising star in Parliament. Until he learns Sarah’s ultimate goal is a husband. No man is good enough and could ever appreciate her for all she is. But she is not for him—his focus rests solely on gaining reforms for society’s weakest members. Yet, a promise made cannot be broken…
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Excerpt
Excerpt
"Come now, Sarah. We are well acquainted enough to know
when the other is hiding something. Why not confess to your choice of
literature? I know this to be a ruse," he said, waving the book on trees.
"And your real choice to be hiding behind the pillow. When have I ever
criticized your taste in books? I would never do you the dishonor of
disparaging your selection. If you're reading a Gothic novel or a…a book of
Lord Byron's poems, I will not think less of you."
Her heart swelled. His candor and
implicit trust in her was one of the things she loved most about him. That he
would not condemn her for her oddities or interests made her love him all the
more. She was attracted to him physically, yes, but his heart and kindness
affixed him permanently on her heart.
Did he harbor similar affections for
her? Ones that went beyond their friendship and into the realm of…of love?
"I-I-I" she stuttered, unable
to speak through the barrier of her emotions.
He leaned toward her, further
incapacitating her. She could hardly breathe through it all, his nearness
numbing her brain and inhibiting all functions. He experienced no such
diversions and easily plucked the book out from its hiding spot.
"What are you reading today?"
he asked, as he perused the cover. "A bit of Yeats?" His eyes widened
as he opened the book to the chapter on graphically detailed pleasure
positions.
She was going to die of abject
humiliation. She was certain of it. Mortification would kill her. Now.
"This isn’t Yeats," he
whispered. His gaze lifted from the pages and bored into hers. "How much
of this have you read?"
She glanced down at her hands, which
she clasped together. "All of it. This is not my first reading."
He let out a breath. "Does anyone
else…know?"
"That I read ancient Indian
texts?" she asked, still avoiding his gaze. "You are the first to
discover my unusual reading selections."
"Sarah…" He touched his
fingers to her ankle, wrapping them around her and squeezing. "Look at
me."
"So you can lecture me on my
indecent behavior?"
"So I can ask if you have any
questions." His hand remained on her ankle, warming her skin through her
stocking.
Her gaze lifted. "You are not
disappointed in me?"
A low chuckled rumbled in his chest.
"On the contrary. I’m very interested in your thoughts on the
subject."
"And were I to share them?"
she asked. "Would you think less of me?"
"Never."
Author Bio:After viewing her all-time favorite love story, "Anne of Green Gables", at the impressionable age of ten, Frances Fowlkes has been obsessed with affable boy-next door heroes, red-heads, and romance stories with lots of "highfaluting mumbo jumbo" written within their pages. It only seems natural then that she married the boy who used to pull on her curls in her high school English class, had not one, but THREE red-headed boys, and penned multiple love stories with bits of flowery prose.When not writing, Frances loves spending time with her family, fangirling, and planning her next vacation.Frances Fowlkes, originally a northern mid-westerner, now lives in the southeast with her ardent hero of a husband, three playful and rambunctious boys, and one spoiled standard poodle.A self-professed Anglophile and summa cum laude graduate of LeTourneau University, Frances Fowlkes combines her passion for happily-ever-afters with her interests in both American and English histories.
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