Miss Araminta Barrington, clever, pretty and unexpectedly poor, bravely decides to sacrifice her own happiness in a marriage of convenience, in order to save her family from certain ruin. She sets out to win a proposal from the wealthy Sir Timothy Stanton while struggling with her guilt over using a good man so poorly.
Just when success is in sight, she catches the eye of Jasper Devereaux, the scandalous Marquis of Chestleton, whose own growing fascination with the enigmatic young woman compels him to pursue her at all costs. If he can only win her into his bed, his absurd fascination will surely evaporate!
Araminta knows that to be seen in Chestleton’s company could ruin her chances of securing a marriage that will save everything she holds dear. She knows that Chestleton is not the sort of man to take a wife, and with poverty looming, she knows that love is a luxury she cannot afford. When a riding accident forces her to be his unwilling guest at a secluded country house, will her undeniable attraction override her sense of duty? Will a night of passion really be enough for the dastardly lord? And does the strange bitterness she glimpses in his eyes have anything to do with the secrets he is determined to keep close?
Daphne has always had a passion for literature and history and one day it occurred to her: what better way to use her English Literature degree than to write about Regency romps and romance? She hasn’t looked back since. Admittedly, her addiction to all things Jane Austen from a very young age had probably somewhat informed her choice of subject matter…
Daphne has stacks of notebooks full of stories that still need to be written, which she insists on bringing with her when she moves around the world (she’s done this a lot!). She likes her books full of romance, adventure, witty repartee and a dash of silly humour. When Daphne isn’t writing, she can be found painting, picnicking, reading and listening to all sorts of exciting music.
Will the devious marquis of Chestleton open his heart to Araminta before it is too late?
The Rogue's Reluctant Rose
His look had not been the expected one of wicked temptation or carnal desire, although that dark promise was never far from his conversation or his features. There had been something else there, a riddle she had not been able to solve, something greater and stronger, altogether more lasting, but also something desperately restrained, as if he were afraid of letting it loose. Afraid of what might happen. There was promise in him yet, she was sure, if only someone were to take a chance and believe in him, when he did not believe in himself.