Who is Captain Harry Fanton?
When Juliana Milford first encounters Captain Harry Fanton, she finds him arrogant and rude. Thereâs no way sheâll fall for his dazzling smile! Her visit to Chadcombe House was always going to prompt questions over her scandalous family, so sheâs touched when Harry defends her reputation. Sheâs discovering thereâs more to Harry than sheâd first thought...
A man so plagued by the demons of war, heâs sworn heâll never marry, no matter how tempted...
Without any further warning, Harry bent his head and kissed her.
Shocked, Juliana could only feel the warmth of his lips, the taste of him, the brief touch of his breath before it was gone again. Not a moment too soon, as some guests appeared round the arc in the corridor. He had timed the kiss to perfection, in the brief instant when they were alone, and in that split second Julianaâs senses swam, her stomach flipped and her nerve endings tingled.
Her heart was pounding with what must be outrage. âThank you? I should thank you for kissing me without my permission?â Her voice squeaked a little. She cleared her throat. âWhy on earth would I do such a thing?â
âBecause, my darling Juliana, I wished you to know yourself. To know the passion within you...a passion that would be smothered by the wrong man. You would end up half alive.â
âYou have no right to make such remarksâor to kiss me!â Surprisingly, Juliana felt close to tears. What was happening to her?
He looked closely at her and his gaze softened. With a rueful half-smile, he murmured, âYou must believe me when I tell you I have only your interests at heart.â
Praise for Juliet Landon
âCharming, romantic and historically accurate; itâs a feast for the history lover.â
âRT Book Reviews on Scandalous Innocent
âLandon has written a titillating and entertaining battle of the sexes, one in which readers cannot help but take sidesâboth of them. SENSUAL.â
âRT Book Reviews on His Duty, Her Destiny
âReaders who enjoy medieval love stories...will enjoy immersing themselves in this tale.â
âRT Book Reviews on Captive of the Viking
CATHERINE TINLEY Catherine Tinley has loved reading and writing since childhood, and has a particular fondness for love, romance and happy endings. She lives in Ireland with her husband, children, dog and kitten, and can be reached at catherinetinley.com, as well as through Facebook and @CatherineTinley on Twitter.
Books by Catherine Tinley
Mills & Boon Historical Romance
The Chadcombe Marriages Waltzing with the Earl The Captainâs Disgraced Lady
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk.
For my familyâ
Andrew, Danny, Aoife and Maeveâwith love.
And for my friends Bryan and Beryl,
for loyalty and love through good times and bad.
Chapter One
DoverâMarch 1815
âCome along, Mamaâitâs this way.â
Juliana moved confidently along the wharf, ignoring the rain, the sailors, dockworkers and passengers. She wore a fashionable travelling gown of dark-green merino, which clung to her form, and a fetching hat with a small feather stuck in it at a jaunty angle.
âYou there!â Her voice was strong, clear and assured.
âYes, miss?â The docker doffed his hat, despite the rain.
âWe require a carriageâa good carriage. It will take us to Ashford tonight, then on towards Surrey.â
âYes, miss. Right away, miss.â
âThe porter will bring our luggage. We shall require a place to wait, out of the rain, while our luggage is brought from the ship.â
âEr, yes, miss. You wonât want to go to the Swanâitâs not for the likes of you. Youâd be better suited to the Kingâs Head.â As he spoke, the docker indicated the Kingâs Head, failing to conceal his horror at the thought of two gently bred ladies wandering into the Swan in broad daylight. Juliana tried not to smile.
âThank you.â Her voice gentled. âSee, Mama? Did I not tell you all would be well?â
Her mama did not look convinced. She glanced around fearfully, clinging to her reticule as if convinced it would be stolen from her at any moment. Juliana sighed inwardly. Her mamaâs anxiety was even worse than she had anticipated. She needed to get her indoors and offer her reassurance. Ignoring the spring rain, which was getting heavier by the minute, Juliana marched purposefully to the inn, her mama following in her wake.
The Kingâs Head had seen better days. The sign over the door was a little faded, as was the wool rug on the floor of the taproom. The wooden panelling and gloomy portraits on the walls gave an air of an age gone by, but the stone floor was clean and the brass taps shone.