on March 13th 2017
Purchase: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo
Six bestselling authors bring you Hearts of Courage, stories about heroes and heroines who overcome tragedy to find love.
100% of the proceeds from this set will be donated to benefit warriors wounded in military action!
The Perfect Lady Worthe by Rose Gordon
The last thing Jane Cavanaugh would ever expect is to be married—she is an invalid, after all—but that doesn’t mean she can’t help with her sister’s husband hunt! (Even if it is with a wee bit of reluctance. The last thing Gareth, Lord Worthe would ever want to do is to fall in love with his closest friend’s younger sister. But fate just might have something else in store for these two…
Out of the Darkness by Elizabeth Johns
Lt John Holdsworth, an injured veteran from Waterloo, is now steward for a large estate in Scotland. Catriona Craig is the adopted daughter of Lord Craig, whose only interests lie in growing herbs and healing people. Can two unlikely friends find healing together? Can he overcome the shadows of his past and accept her love?
Scandalized by a Scoundrel (All's Fair in Love Book 2) by Erin Knightley
Amelia has plenty of reasons to distrust strangers, and the broad-shouldered, devilishly handsome viscount deserves no exception. But when the former army officer challenges her to lay down her weapon and learn to fight in a new way, she finds herself capitulating. They’re as incompatible as water and gunpowder, so why is she suddenly looking forward to the thought of being . . . Scandalized by a Scoundrel?
Captivated by the Captain (Fabled Love Book 2) by Amanda Mariel
What happens when an American heiress to a shipping company crosses paths with a pirate? Can two people whose life paths are at odds find common ground?
For The Love Of A Widow by Christina McKnight
After years following her husband as he fought against Napoleon’s troops, Lady Lettie Hughes returns to London a widow to take her place as the daughter of an Earl. Can she fight through the nightmares that plague her to find love with the man she jilted six years before?
A Match Made In Duty by Meara Platt
When the Earl of Exmoor agrees to marry Sophie as a favor to her dying brother, he never expects that this match made in duty will be the cure for his broken and battle-scarred heart.
We are very excited to bring you a five day event featuring stories from six wonderful authors.
Rose Gordon, Elizabeth Johns, Erin Knightly, Amanda Mariel, Christina McKnight and Meara Platt.
Each day we will highlight one or two of the stories.
Join us today as we visit with Meara Platt.
James arched an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to renege on my promise to your brother?” In truth, he liked that directness about her and the fact that she did not flinch when looking at him. “I cannot do it, Miss Wilkinson. I’m offering to make you my wife. In truth, I’d be honored if you accepted. I know I’m rather a poor specimen.”
She quirked a soft eyebrow in what appeared to be surprise. Was she disputing the obvious? “Certainly not the husband you might have hoped for,” he continued, “but you will always be safe here and treated with honor.” He cleared his throat. “You shall have your own bedchamber, of course. And I shall not impose on you.”
Lord! How much plainer could he state that he’d keep his hands off her?
Her only response was a slight widening of her big, chocolate brown eyes, so he continued the uncomfortable conversation. “I am under no illusions. The war took its toll on all of us. Whatever hopes or dreams I may have had…” He motioned toward his face. “Well, I’m no longer any woman’s idea of perfection.”
Her lips turned upward in the hint of a smile. “My lord, may I be impertinent?”
He much preferred it to her being a timid mouse around him. “Of course.”
“You seem to think I’m a simple-brained ninny and that my only requirement in a husband is a man with a pretty face. I assure you, I am not that shallow.” She let out a soft sigh and leaned closer so that he caught the subtle scent of lavender soap along her slender throat. “I will not deny that my situation is dire. But that does not give me the right to interfere with your future happiness. As you can see, I have little polish. I’m no society gem.” She shook her head and sighed again. “How can you possibly think to make me your countess? I’m a penniless stranger with no family connections.”
“I gave your brother my word and I intend to keep it. I would do the same if you had the face of a wart hog or the brain of a goose. Thankfully, you have neither of those qualities. All I ask is that you live under my roof – separate quarters, of course – and act as my hostess when the need arises for me to entertain at home. I would also ask that you accompany me to the balls and other social engagements to which we shall be invited.”
She tipped her head and nibbled her lip as she studied him, her gaze once again direct and assessing. “A business arrangement.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “You shall have an allowance, of course. Your days will be mostly your own.”
“I see.” She stood and had the courtesy to pretend to study the flames brightly glowing in the hearth while he struggled to his feet in order to stand beside her. “I suppose we ought to shake hands to seal our bargain.”
Was she accepting his terms?
She stuck out her small, gloved hand to confirm it.
He wasn’t used to shaking hands with a woman, for those of his acquaintance merely dangled their fingers before him in expectation that he would bow over them and mutter some polite inanity. But Miss Wilkinson, although quite genteel in her looks and manners, had a no nonsense way about her. He set his cane aside and swallowed her hand in both of his. “Done.”
He expected a trumpet fanfare. A chorus of angels singing. A tremor along the ground, for the prospect of marriage was no small matter. But all was silent. Even Miss Wilkinson was holding her breath, no doubt contemplating the bargain she’d just made. “One small request,” he said, still holding her hand and noting that she’d made no move to slip it out of his grasp. “In public, I shall call you Lady Exmoor. But I’d hoped for something less formal when we are alone at home. What is your given name?”
She laughed lightly and shook her head. “Did my brother neglect to mention it?”
James cast her a wincing smile. “He mentioned it a time or two, but more often he referred to you as… Smidge.”
She couldn’t help but laugh again, but that melodic trill was punctuated with a groan. “Oh, dear! That was the awful pet name he gave me when we were children. I hope you will banish it from your memory at once! My name is Sophie.”
“Sophie,” he repeated softly. “Nice to meet you. I’m James.”
Meara Platt ~ http://mearaplatt.com/