She took one look at Jack and flew into his arms. He cradled her against his wide chest, stroking her hair, crooning words of comfort.
“My mother,” Eulogy explained. “Mary Foster. I wanted to tell her about you. She’d be so proud.”
Understanding and relief hit him in equal parts. What a fool he’d been. Of course she would be sad that her mother had missed her wedding day.
“I wish I’d known Mrs. Foster…to thank her or looking after you so.”
Eulogy blinked back tears. “The woman who raised me, Mary Foster, noble by nature, if not by name.”
“None nobler than her. And I owe her my happiness.”
Eulogy smiled gratefully.
“Mary Foster was an extraordinary woman, and I shall be forever grateful to her love and care.”
Jack closed his eyes on tears as suddenly, he knew what he must do. “Stay here and tell her me, the wedding and your new life. I shall wait yonder. And then, when you are ready, we shall find the other grave.”
“What other grave?” Eulogy looked puzzled.
“Lady Devlin’s of course. Let us find her final resting place together, for I need to thank her for giving you life and for the sacrifice of letting you go…for without that heaven only knows.”
“Could we?’ Eulogy squeezed his hand. “You wouldn’t mind…on our wedding day?” The look of surprised joy on her face made his heart soar.
“Nothing would be more appropriate. For without her selfless action I would not have known you…and I want to promise on her grave that I will always protect you from hurt, cherish and love you… in a way fitting for her, Eulogy.”
- The END -
About Grace Elliot.
Grace Elliot is a veterinarian by day and author by night. She turned to writing as an antidote to an emotionally demanding job. Grace firmly believes intelligent people need to read romance as an escape from the pressures of modern life.
Grace’s blog is a blend of historical trivia, romance and cats!
http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com
www.wix.com/graceelliot/grace-elliot
If you have enjoyed this book then you may be interested in other work by the same author.
A Dead Man’s Debt.
“Historical romance at its best.” The Romance Reviews
“Totally engrossing…sensual and evocative writing.” Fiction Books.
“Breathtaking sensuality…page turning drama…a wonderful talent.” Once Upon a Chapter.
Celeste Armitage has a plan…and it doesn’t include marriage.
Celeste’s despairing parents exile her to the country, where she finds a sketch book of nude studies. She is shaken to find the artist is her hostess’s son, Lord Ranulf Charing. This cynical lord is the exactly sort of dissipated rogue she despises most…if only her blood didn’t heat at the sight of him!
Lord Ranulf faces ruin as a blackmailer uses his late brother’s debts to destroy the Charing’s reputation. When Ranulf unexpectedly falls for the rebellious Celeste he must chose between true love and family duty…but Ranulf underestimates Celeste’s resolve to clear his name and unwittingly places his soul mate in mortal danger
Coming NOVEMBER 2012
Hope’s Betrayal
– book 2 in the Huntley Trilogy.
(Excerpt from the work-in-progress)
Captain George Huntley could think of many ways to spend a foul winter’s night, buy lying full length in a reed bed, with salt-water drizzle blowing in his face was not one of them. Huntley ignored the creeping dampness against his belly and thighs, to pitch his senses against the darkness: ears aching for an unguarded curse or the splash of an oar. But, all he heard was a lone gull, tossed erratically in a wind that screamed like a harpy through ships’ rigging in the harbour behind him.
Huntley scowled at the black void of the tossing sea; something wasn’t right. What had he missed? The officer beside him, equally uncomfortable, was wise enough not to complain for amongst those of his men who fell short, Huntley’s temper was legendary.
“Damn it, Bennett!”
“Sir?”
“High water already - another five minutes and the tide will be running off…” Huntley’s mind raced. “The first storm-free night for weeks, no moon…the smugglers will seize the chance…So what have I missed?”
His eyes narrowed to a hungry look, a muscle twitched along his jaw. Bennett shivered.
“Perhaps they fancy a night by a warm fire, instead of this damnable drizzle, Sir.” Huntley threw him a sideways glance.
“Not losing heart now?”
“No, Sir, just saying that if I were a smuggler…”
“If you were a smuggler after the storms you’d be desperate. Best night to land contraband in weeks -they can’t afford not to.” With a dull thud, Huntley punched the ground. “Curses!”
“Sir?”
“What have I missed, Bennett? What have I overlooked?”
Hearing the frustration in the Captain’s voice, Bennett declined to answer.
Like some nightmarish phantasm rising from the grave, Huntley stood, and stretched the stiffness from his muscular limbs. Bennett didn’t need to see the Captain’s face to know it would be set in its habitual frown, flint blue eyes sparking with anger, lips thin with anger…