Today's Spotlight is on Felicia Roger's New Release, The Ruse.
The Ruse, Andrews
Brothers, Book One
The fix is in…but her heart can’t be fooled.
The fix is in…but her heart can’t be fooled.
Luke Andrews,
Baron of Stockport, is in trouble. He needs a wealthy bride to secure future
funds for his financially shaky estate, but the belle of the London season is a
spoiled terror with an arrogant father. They’d try the nerves of a saint and
Luke can’t quite bring himself to make an offer he knows he’d regret.
Meanwhile,
Luke’s half-brother Chadwick never could resist a good game of Faro, or
anything else, for that matter. With the baron away, Chadwick will play —
gambling the estate’s remaining funds into oblivion. He needs to devise his own
scheme to replace the money he’s lost, before his brother returns.
In Stockport
village, Brigitta Blackburn doesn’t have two sticks to rub together —
literally. With the estate in financial distress and rents high, food and wood
are scarce. When she sneaks onto the baron’s land to steal some firewood, she’s
caught, hauled before the play-acting “baron,” Chadwick, and offered a solution
to her plight… and his.
But Chadwick’s
ruse embroils them all. How can Brigitta accept what she thinks to be true,
when she really yearns to follow her heart?
--a
traditional Regency novel
Excerpt:
Fountains
bubbled and birds landed in the baths. Luke took the long trail and walked by
the fishing pond and hunting grounds. A rock jutted out from the mountain and
Luke paused, blocking the sun from his face.
From
his high perch, the ruins of Stockport Castle tumbled across the green below.
He remembered being a lad and staring at the ruins while holding tightly to his
father’s hand. His father’s vivid descriptions had almost made him feel as if
he’d walked through the hallowed halls that lay destroyed.
Reality
of how things that stood the test of time could still plunge into nothingness
gnawed at his innards and he wished his father was around to offer wisdom.
Downhearted,
he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned. Upon approaching the manse, he
knitted his brows. A line of people gathered. Behind them, carriages lined the
road almost as far away as the village.
He
strode toward the crowd and joined them. Raindrops fell and he tugged his top
hat lower. The throng groaned and waved umbrellas aloft. Before them the manse
doors parted and they entered the east wing of the estate.
Tourists
dressed in fine frocks with plumed hats filed into the main room, staring
avidly about at his home. An individual Luke had never seen acted as a guide,
lifting his hands and pointing at one side of the curved staircase. There a
woman of refined grace descended.
The
guide announced, “Introducing Baroness Stockport, Brigitta Andrews.”
Luke
blinked rapidly as the woman turned, smiled, and waved. The crowd returned her
actions. She continued to descend until she reached the landing, where she
stopped.
From
the opposite set of stairs, his half-brother Chadwick, dressed in regal attire,
descended. The red coat emphasized his broad shoulders, which he held back. His
face scrunched, he didn’t look at the crowd, but instead focused a look filled
with unrequited hatred toward the woman on the landing.
The
guide lifted his hand toward Chadwick and said, “Introducing the Baron of
Stockport.”
Luke
covered his gasp and huddled deeper into his coat. What is the meaning of this?
Before
any further thoughts could drift through Luke’s mind, Chadwick stopped in the
middle of the stairs and shouted, “And just what do you think you’re wearing?”
The
woman bristled. “I’m wearing the yellow today, my lord.”
“The
yellow? Blah. I’ve told you I detest yellow. Get thee upstairs and change this
instant.” He pointed his finger above and the lady cocked a brow and glared.
“You
will not tell me what to do! I’m the baroness and I can do as I please. If I want
to wear yellow, then I shall wear yellow!”
Chadwick
didn’t waver and Brigitta hitched her skirts and ran upstairs. Chadwick faced
the crowd and apologized for his wife’s behavior before casually turning on his
heel and leaving himself.
Shocked,
Luke blindly followed the crowd. The guide led them through the entire east
wing. They studied the wall of family portraits, swooned over the ancient
family heirlooms, and ended with a riding tour of the grounds.
With
each new sight his ire increased. While he’d been strangled initially by
feelings of cold, blind rage, the trip on horseback through the grounds cooled
his temper and now he was naught but confused.
The
event ended and the visitors left in their carriages. Discreetly, Luke sneaked
into the house through a downstairs window and raced on tiptoe to his chambers.
He sat at a desk and pondered until his head ached. Finally, he pulled the
servant’s rope that led directly to his personal valet’s room. He paced, his
mind jumbled with nonsensical thoughts. The door opened and he blurted,
“Jarvis, I have a problem.”
The
valet entered and closed the door. A blank stare covered his face as he
blurted, “My lord, we weren’t expecting you. Welcome home.”
“There
is something foul at play here.”
Jarvis
squinted, lifted his nose, and sniffed.
“Not
an odor, Jarvis.”
He
lowered his chin. “Excuse me, your lordship, but I fail to understand your
meaning.”
Without
pretense, Luke said, “In the east wing, Chadwick is pretending to be me!”
“Are
you sure?” asked Jarvis, his voice lending to a squeak.
He
rounded on the servant. “Yes, I’m sure! They called his name as the Baron of
Stockport and last I checked that was me!”
ROMANCE AUTHOR
Felicia Rogers
Felicia Rogers is an author of six
novels and three novellas. When she's not writing, Felicia volunteers with the
Girl Scouts of America, teaches at a local homeschooling group, hikes, and
spends time with her family.
To
find out more information about Felicia Rogers visit the sites below. She loves
hearing from readers.
Email:
feliciarogersauthor@yahoo.com
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