Page 46 of Brazen Rogue
Alternatively, you can keep in contact with me by visiting my website, subscribing to my newsletter or following me online. You can contact me atwww.tamaragill.com. If you would like to learn more about book nine,The Notorious Lord Sin, please read on. I have included a snippet of the prologue (unedited) for your reading pleasure.
Tamara xx
Miss Paris Smith had little prospects in her debutante year, but she did fall heedlessly in love with Dominic Parker, Viscount Astoridge, and thought those feelings returned. But her heart is broken when informed as unsuitable due to her lack of dowry and influence.
Dominic Parker, Viscount Astoridge, had instilled a strong sense of duty in him, which meant he was to marry well to ensure his family and the Viscountcy survived. But when he fell in love with the penniless Miss Paris Smith, his head crushingly overruled his heart and broke hers in turn.
Five years on, she’s the widowed Countess Hervey, with an heir and an abundance of fortune while his has turned for the worst. How is he to rekindle their love without appearing a scroof? And what is to say that Countess Hervey will even give him a second chance?
Prologue
London Season, 1807
Miss Paris Smith sat in the library of her best friend, the Duchess of Romney's home, and fought not to fidget. Today all her dreams would come true. The man who had captured her heart from the very first moment she had laid eyes on him just weeks ago was to call upon her. That he had asked to do so could only mean one thing.
She was about to become betrothed.
The thought made her stomach flutter, and she placed a hand there, fighting to remain calm.
Knocking on the front door echoed through the house, and within a minute, she heard the muffled voice of the butler letting in Lord Astoridge.
She closed her eyes, drinking in the sound of him. His deep baritone made her knees weak and delicious heat to pool where no heat ought to pool in an unmarried maid such as herself.
Now was the time.
Finally, he would ask her, and they would be together forever.
"Lord Astoridge is here to see you, Miss Smith," Thomas said, gesturing for the Viscount to enter.
His lordship, his wide shoulders and tall, commanding presence towered over both her and the butler, and she smiled in welcome.
"Lord Astoridge, how good of you to call. Do sit down," she said, not wanting to appear too eager. Although inside her body was aflush, giddy at the idea that should he ask her to marry him, to be his wife. Would he kiss her to seal their deal?
Her first kiss with the one and only man she wanted at her side.
He nodded and sat on the settee across from her, his hands folded in his lap. She studied him and noted the light sheen of sweat on his brow.
Paris bit back a grin. She supposed when a gentleman was about to propose to a lady, it would be common and expected that he would be a little nervous.
Especially if her answer was so very important to him, which she hoped it was. Just as consequential as his question was to her.
"Miss Smith, thank you for seeing me this afternoon. I hope you are well," he asked his attention on her fleeting before glancing back toward the unlit hearth.
Paris adjusted her seat to face him better and smiled a little, hoping that may ease his nerves.
"I am well, thank you. I'm happy to see you," she admitted. Would his acknowledgment of her feelings help ask what he wanted? They had been courting for several weeks. He had danced with her multiple times, and even one night, on a darkened terrace, she had thought he might kiss her.
And while that had not occurred, he had continued to mark her out beyond any others, and she could not help but hope that meant he cared for her. That he wanted her as his wife, as she so desperately wanted him to be her husband.
She sighed, studying him and all his handsomeness. His chiseled jaw, perfectly straight nose, and large almond eyes, the deepest brown that, in a certain light, they appeared as dark as a moonless night.
"Miss Smith, it is only right that I call on you to be the gentleman that I was brought up to be and offer you an explanation."
Paris swallowed as dread settled in the pit of her stomach. "Explanation? Whatever do you mean, my lord?" she asked him. How was a proposal an explanation pray?
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes a moment before meeting her eyes. "I've come here today, Miss Smith, to notify you and be honest in telling you that I cannot marry you." He paused and ran a hand over his jaw, watching her keenly. "The situation of my life and the ability to keep my estates, both here in England and France profitable, means that I must marry a woman of substantial means. Not to say that I'm in any way in a financial deficit. I am not, but the upkeep on my numerous estates means I must marry a woman who can support further those who live off my name and lands." He frowned, pausing. "I know you believed this visit this afternoon was for another purpose entirely, and I'm sorry to let you down in such a way. Know that should I not have so many people under my care, I would ask you to marry me. I would have picked you out of everyone else to be my wife."
Paris stared at his lordship, and for several minutes she could not form the words of reply.
