Amidst the enchanting wintry landscapes of Regency England, fate weaves an unexpected story of love and redemption. Lady Emily Fairchild, a spirited widow carrying the weight of her past, crosses paths with the charismatic rogue, Mr. Nicolas Winters, the second son of a prestigious earl.
When a twist of destiny brings Nicolas wounded and unconscious to Emily's door, her compassionate heart compels her to nurse him back to health. As he gradually awakens, an air of mystery surrounds the captivating stranger. Bound by the festive spirit of Christmas and the welcoming embrace of Emily's home, their initial encounter evolves into a profound connection neither could foresee.
As the holiday season unfolds, their intertwined pasts unravel, and sparks of emotions ignite between them. Yet, the shadows of their pasts threaten to keep them apart. Will the magic of the holiday season and the undeniable bond they share be enough to dismantle the barriers, allowing love to blossom?
Prepare to be enthralled by a tale of healing, newfound possibilities, and the enduring strength of love in this captivating Regency romance set against the backdrop of a Regency Christmas.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / RegencyNicolas Winters leaned over the billiards table, eyes narrowed, and lined up his cue with practiced precision. With a deft stroke, the red ball rolled smoothly into the corner pocket. A triumphant grin spread across his face as he looked up at his friends.
“Well played, Winters,” James Barton, Viscount Blackwood, drawled, taking his cue in hand. “But do not get too cocky. I believe it is my turn now.”
As James lined up his shot, Johnathan Hargate, Duke of Hargate, crossed his arms and studied the table. “I must say, Blackwood, your skills have improved considerably since our days at Eton. I recall you being quite terrible at this game.”
James chuckled, taking his shot and sinking the ball in quick succession. “We all start somewhere, Hargate, though I seem to remember you spent more time buried in books than with a cue in hand.”
“Sharpening the mind is hardly a waste of time,” Johnathan said good-naturedly, “unlike wasting away in idle pursuits.”
Nicolas smirked. “Come now, what’s life without a little idle pursuit now and then? All work and no play, as they say.”
The clack of billiard balls punctuated their banter as James took another shot. He straightened with a self-satisfied grin. “Idle pursuits, my friends, have their merits.”
Nicolas laughed and shook his head. These private moments with his friends were rare and cherished, a respite from the expectations and pretenses of London society. Here, in the relative privacy of Blackwood’s country estate, they could let their guards down and simply enjoy each other’s company.
As he reached for his glass of brandy, a sound outside caught his attention—the unmistakable rhythm of hoofbeats growing louder. Frowning, he glanced toward the window, noting the ominous clouds gathering in the grey sky.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
German
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Maya Grünschloß, Phd
|
|
Italian
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Adele Contenti
|
|
Portuguese
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Letícia Valle
|
|
Spanish
|
Already translated.
|
