Her Enemy At The Altar
AN UNEXPECTED END TO THE WINCANTON-STUART FEUD?Scandal broke last night when Lady Constance Stuart was discovered in the arms of Aaron Wincanton, the son of her family’s greatest enemy! But now we can reveal an even more shocking development. Our sources say a special licence was obtained and the two were married before sunrise!It’s been confirmed that Aaron has stolen his new bride away to the country to begin their unexpected marriage. We’ll be watching closely to see exactly what happens when a gentleman invites his enemy into his bed …
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Kissing Aaron Wincanton was nothing like she’d expected kissing to be.
Not only did she feel it on her lips, she felt it in her legs as well. They were oddly unsteady. Connie did not notice the passing of time, nor exactly when the kiss changed into something more visceral, but one moment she was standing in his arms, upset, and the next she was almost reclining on the sofa, with her hands fisted in his dark hair and his large, warm palm sliding over the silk of her stockings until it rested scandalously on the bare skin above her garter. It felt glorious to be wanted this way, and by a man who had no interest in her dowry or her prospects.
He was kissing her.
Connie.
And she could tell by the way his breathing was ragged and the way his heart hammered against his ribs that he was as lost in the kiss as she. Finally she was attractive and desirable to someone. She felt beautiful and womanly and alive.
Shortly after my daughter started school she came home worried. When I asked her what had happened she held up her hands and said that she thought there was something wrong with her. ‘My hands and feet are too big.’
This had all come about because her teacher had innocently thought that it might be a good idea to measure all the new students, take handprints and footprints, and create a graph in the classroom showing their varying sizes. Whilst I’m sure she meant well, it served to enlighten my daughter to the fact that she was different—she was tall—and it took years for that self-consciousness to go.
Any normal person would not dream of walking up to a complete stranger and saying, ‘You’re fat, aren’t you?’ Or, ‘you’re ugly.’ Or, ‘You’re bald.’ However, the majority of the population think it is perfectly acceptable to say, ‘You’re tall, aren’t you?’ As if the person they are speaking to is somehow not aware of that fact!
My heroine, Constance, is also tall. In a world where the ideal woman is supposed to be delicate and fragile, she stands out—and desperately wishes that she didn’t. She is convinced that no man will ever want her, so behaves in a way that actively discourages any potential suitor in an attempt to guard her heart. Fortunately Aaron Wincanton is not the slightest bit afraid of her, something Connie finds most disconcerting …
When VIRGINIA HEATH was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older the stories became more complicated—sometimes taking weeks to get to their happy ending. One day she decided to embrace her insomnia and start writing them down. Virginia lives in Essex with her wonderful husband and two teenagers. It still takes her for ever to fall asleep …
For Katie.
And all of the other beautiful tall girls out there.
Contents
A London ballroom—November 1815
He was surrounded by the usual gaggle of giggling girls who found him charming. Fortunately, mused Lady Constance Stuart as she watched him from the opposite side of the ballroom, she was not one of them. Like his father, Aaron Wincanton had hair as dark as night and a heart as black as sin, and Constance was predisposed to hate him with a vengeance. But there was something about Aaron Wincanton that had always grated. Perhaps it was his cocky arrogance, or perhaps it was the way he constantly flirted with any woman in possession of a pulse, or maybe it was simply the fact that he was the most irritatingly handsome man in the room, but whatever it was she had developed a deep well of loathing reserved especially for him.
The gaggle of silly girls all stepped back at his command and Constance watched in reluctant fascination as Aaron Wincanton held an unopened champagne bottle upright in his palm. He had obviously procured a sword from someone and held it aloft in his right hand with far more flourish than was necessary. The blade glinted in the light of the chandeliers above, attracting even more attention to the exciting spectacle at the edge of the dance floor. He lay the flat of the blade against the side of the bottle and his mewling disciples began to count out loud in squeaking excitement. ‘One... Two...’
On three he slid the blade swiftly upwards against the glass, slicing off the cork and the neck of the bottle in one, deadly clean cut. Foaming champagne spilled from the top of the bottle like a fountain and the audience all held out their wine glasses for him to fill or clapped at the audaciousness of the trick.
