The Rake to Reveal Her
The Soldier Next Door…Dominic Ransleigh lost more than his arm in battle – he lost his reason for living. Returning to his family seat, he shuns all society. If only his beautiful, plain-speaking tenant Theodora Branwell wasn’t so hard to ignore…Since her fiancé’s death on the battlefield Theo’s devoted herself to caring for soldiers’ orphans.She’s powerfully attracted to Dom, but knows all too well the consequences of temptation. Is Theo, who’s survived so much, brave enough to reveal her secret to her handsome wounded neighbour?Ransleigh Rogues: Where these Notorious Rakes Go, Scandal Always Follows…
Читать The Rake to Reveal Her онлайн беплатно
RANSLEIGH ROGUES
Where these notorious rakes go, scandalalwaysfollowsâ¦
Max, Will, Alastair and Dominic Ransleighâcousins, friends ⦠and the most wickedly attractive men in Regency London. Between war, betrayal and scandal, love has never featured in the Ransleighsâ destiniesâuntil now!
Donât miss this enthralling quartet from Julia Justiss.
We met Max, Will and Alastair in
THE RAKE TO RUIN HER
THE RAKE TO REDEEM HER
and
THE RAKE TO RESCUE HER
Now follow Dominicâs adventures in
THE RAKE TO REVEAL HER
When I first envisaged the Ransleigh cousins I knew Dom was going to return from Waterloo with serious injuries and struggle to recreate his lifeâwith the help of a remarkable woman (and, in this case, her passel of orphans!). What I didnât know was how personal this story would become.
In August 2012 my husband, father-in-law and I were rear-ended by a vehicle travelling at high speed. My husband, riding in the back seat, had his pelvis fractured in eight places and broke the C-2 bone in his spine. For six weeks he was totally paralysed from the chin down. Slowly, over the next seven months of hospitalisation, through extensive physical therapy and unrelenting effort, he gradually retrieved the use of his arms and legs. Today he continues to work towards normality, fighting chronic pain with a smile.
Domâs injuries, fortunately, are less severeâbut as they prevent him from resuming the occupation heâs always pursued theyâre equally difficult to accept. But Domâa hero, like my husbandârejects self-pity and fights off depression. Persevering to find himself again, he responds to the unusual and unlikely heroine who reaches out to him and leads them both to a happy future.
I hope you will enjoy their story.
JULIA JUSTISS wrote her first ideas for Nancy Drew stories in her third-grade notebook, and has been writing ever since. After publishing poetry in college she turned to novels. Her Regency historical romances have won or been placed in contests by the Romance Writers of America, RT Book Reviews, National Readersâ Choice and Daphne du Maurier. She lives with her husband in Texas.
For news and contests visit www.juliajustiss.com
To my husband and hero:
Never give in. Never give up.
Contents
Suffolkâspring 1816
His ears still ringing from the impact of the fall, Dominic Fitzallen Ransleigh levered himself to a sitting position in the muddy Suffolk lane. Air hissed in and out of his gritted teeth as he waited for the red wave of pain obscuring his vision to subside. Which it did, just in time for him to see that black devil, Diablo, trot around the corner and out of sight.
Headed back to the barn, probably, Dom thought. If horses could laugh, surely the bad-tempered varlet was laughing at him.
It was his own fault, always choosing the most difficult and high-spirited colts to train as hunters. Horses with the speed and heart to gallop across country, jumping with ease any obstacle in their paths, but needing two strong hands on the reins to control their headstrong, temperamental natures.
He looked down at his one remaining hand, still trembling from the strain of that wild ride. Flexing the wrist, he judged it sore but not broken. After years of tending himself from various injuries suffered during his service with the Sixteenth Dragoons, a gingerly bending of the arm informed him no bones were broken there, either.
His left shoulder still throbbed, but at least he hadnât fallen on the stump of his right arm. Had he done that, heâd probably still be unconscious from the agony.
Resigning himself to sit in the mud until his muzzy head cleared, Dom gazed down the lane after the fleeing horse. Though the doctors had warned him, heâd resisted accepting what heâd just proved: heâd not be able to control Diablo, or any of the other horses in his stable full of hunters, with a single good hand.
Sighing, Dom struggled to his feet. He might as well face the inevitable. As heâd never be able to ride Diablo or the others again, there was no sense hanging on to them. The bitter taste of defeat in his mouth, he told himself he would look into selling them off at Tattersallâs while the horses were still in prime form and able to fetch a good price. Sell the four-horse carriages, too, since with one hand, he couldnât handle more than a pair.
Thereby severing one more link between the man heâd been before Waterloo, and now.
Jilting a fiancée, leaving the army, and now this. Nothing like changing his world completely in the space of a week.
