From Countess to Outcast…
Shunned by England’s Beau Monde because of her Barbadian heritage, Miss A’laya Banesworth has spent her life yearning for true acceptance. When the Earl of Holderness courts her, she thinks that she’s found true love. Quickly, A’laya discovers that her marriage is only one of convenience. Though she is now a countess, A’laya still faces disapproval and scorn from her new husband’s family. Only the birth of her daughter, Katherina brings her happiness.
But A’laya does not anticipate how wicked her enemies are. Katherina is stolen from her, and A’laya is left without resources to find her. Still, she searches desperately, holding out hope that her daughter is still alive. As the years pass, A’laya travels the English countryside as a fortune teller, yearning to be reunited with Katherina.
The bond between mother and daughter is strong—so strong that when fate and fortune collide, love abounds...
Genre: FICTION / Romance / RegencyChapter One
Nottinghamshire, England
August 1791
“Why is her hair like that, Mama?” A girl with blond ringlets tugged at an older woman’s skirts and pointed rudely toward A’laya. “It doesn’t look soft like mine and Mary’s.”
Even at the tender age of seven, A’laya knew she and her mother were different from their neighbors and the local villagers. But she was not saddened by that fact. She loved the texture of her hair and the hue of her skin. It reminded her of a mix of Mama and Papa together. A’laya was loved, and her parents loved each other. To A’laya, the honey-brown shade of her flesh and the bridge of darkened freckles sprinkled across her nose represented everything that was important to her.
Love. Family. Acceptance.
Belonging.
Her name and complexion were inherited from her mama’s family—native Barbadians from the Barbados islands. A’laya’s smattering of freckles and her surname were courtesy of her proper English father.
A melding of two worlds, or so Mama was known to whisper in her ear before A’laya found her slumber. Or when they traversed the hectic village lane, and the penetrating stares of the locals followed them on their journey to the market.
On this afternoon, however, as she and Mama examined some of the wares being displayed by the travelling merchants, A’laya found herself touching her coarse hair self-consciously. Why did the other little girl make such a sour face?
“My hair is from my grandmother.” A’laya spoke up proudly so that the other girl could hear. “She travelled from across the ocean on a ship. She came from an island. Have you ever heard of Barbados?”
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by mara lock
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Regiane Moreira
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by María Gabriela Guzmán Miguel
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