Susanna Fraser
Authors: A Dream Defiant
A Dream Defiant
By Susanna Fraser
Spain
,
1813
Elijah Cameron, the son of runaway slaves, has spent his
whole life in the British army proving that a black man can be as good a soldier
as a white man. After a victory over the French, Elijah promises one of his
dying men that he will deliver a scavenged ruby necklace to his wife, Rose, a
woman Elijah has admired for years.
Elijah feels bound to protect her and knows a widow with a
fortune in jewels will be a target. Rose dreams of using the necklace to return
to England, but after a violent attack, she realizes that she needs Elijah’s
help to make the journey safely.
Her appreciation for Elijah’s strength and integrity soon
turns into love, but he doubts she could want a life with him, knowing the
challenges they’d face. As their relationship grows, she must convince Elijah
that she wants him as more than a bodyguard. And she must prove that their love
can overcome all obstacles, no matter the color of their skin.
28,000 words
Dear Reader,
Welcome to our July lineup of books! If I’m not on the beach somewhere while you’re reading this, there’s something wrong with life (unless you’re reading this in December—in which case, I hope I’m by a fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa in my hand). But no matter where you are while you’re reading this, I can tell you one thing: you’re in for a treat. (Sure, I say that every month, but it’s always true!) This month brings a fun mix of returning authors and debut authors, with fun, contemporary beach reads, some troublesome dragons, a few steps back in time, and characters in a race against time and a fight for their lives.
Let’s kick off with the perfect beach read. Make sure you pick up Christi Barth’s
Love at High Tide.
Beach reading doesn’t get much better than this. It starts with a beach rescue, continues with a beach romance, and has sun, sand, sexual tension and two characters you will love.
Maybe the beach isn’t your thing in the summer, but baseball is. Take a peek at Alison Packard’s
The Winning Season.
After hitting rock bottom, bad-boy catcher Matt Scanlon is traded to the team he’s loathed since boyhood, and he must confront a painful incident in his past before he can rebuild his life
and
his career. Once you’ve fallen in love with Matt, go back and read Alison’s debut romance,
Love in the Afternoon.
Continuing in the contemporary romance genre, we have party planner Tess, who can’t believe that hotel manager Jeremy could possibly be interested in her. She’s everyone’s BFF, not friends-with-benefits material. But he’s got more than friendship on his mind in Kate Davies’s
Life of the Party
, book three in the Girls Most Likely to... series.
Maybe you like your romance with a side of suspense? If so, check out Anne Marie Becker’s
Deadly Bonds
, and
Betrayed by Trust
from Ana Barrons. Two romantic suspense books, four characters in fights for their lives.
Or maybe you like your romance with a large helping of sexy times? If so, Lynda Aicher’s
Bonds of Desire
is the book for you. Lawyer Allison English never planned to return to The Den—despite her naughty fantasies about being bound by owner Seth Matthews. But when club guest Tyler Wysong is injured in a scene, Seth turns to Allie for help. Aroused by both men, Allie should turn the case down. But she can’t...
Joining Lynda in the erotic romance category this month are two male/male titles. First up is
His Roommate’s Pleasure
by Lana McGregor. Adam had no idea that his jock roommate was gay—and into leashes, paddles, and domination. And Adam, an inexperienced virgin who’s only ever kissed one guy, is surprised to find himself curious about submitting... Then Samantha Ann King returns with the follow-up to her debut romance,
Sharing Hailey.
In
Waiting for Ty
, too many beers and four long years of denying their feelings for each other thrust two men together in a lip-lock and a night of no-holds-barred sex that forces them to confront their greatest love and their deepest fears.
In
Sky Hunter
, the third and final installment of Fae Sutherland’s male/male space opera romance series, Skybound, the
Crux Ansata
’s brash and rebellious ship mechanic, Jeret, finds himself face-to-face with a dangerous past he never thought to revisit—and the only man he has never been able to forget.
Looking for more books in the paranormal category? Start with Ruth A. Casie’s
The Guardian’s Witch
and
Desperate Magic
by Rebecca York. And for fans of historical romance, in Georgie Lee’s
Hero’s Redemption
, a widow and a war hero brought together by a scheme must learn to trust one another and accept the tragedy that links them in order to find love. Meanwhile, historical romance author Susanna Fraser, who can always be counted on to deliver a unique and unusual historical romance, returns with
A
Dream Defiant
, in which a black British soldier marries a beautiful English war widow, but he can’t believe she wants him for himself, and not merely as her bodyguard and protector.
This month Carina Press is pleased to announce three debut authors. Mystery author Patricia Hale will grip you by the throat with her suspenseful story of retribution,
In the Shadow of Revenge.
As children they witnessed horror and created a pact, as women they planned their revenge and waited.
Also debuting this month is Reese Ryan, with
Making the First Move.
When ambitious HR exec Melanie Gordon falls for sweet, sexy philanthropist Raine Mason, she discovers that his selflessness is driven by a dark and tragic secret that threatens to keep them apart.
And joining Carina Press with her Golden Heart–winning paranormal romance is debut author Lorenda Christensen. Fans of Katie MacAlister’s Aisling Grey and Light Dragons series will want to check this one out, and so will any fans of fun paranormal romances featuring dragons and heroines with a bit of backbone. In
Never Deal with Dragons
, the first in a new series, a human mediator bites off more than she can chew when she agrees to partner with an ex-boyfriend to stop a war between two dragon monarchs.
I hope you enjoy all of this month’s new releases. There’s certainly a variety to choose from, to keep you occupied no matter what your summer (or winter) activity.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
To Dylan, the hero of my own romance.
Acknowledgements
As always, thanks go to the ladies of the Demimonde—Alyssa Everett, Rose Lerner, Karen Dobbins and Vonnie Hughes. I never would’ve made it to this point as an author without their support and wise critique. Thanks belong as well to my wonderful editor, Melissa Johnson, and the whole Carina team. And as always, to my husband, Dylan, and our daughter, Annabel, for their ceaseless support of my pursuit of a career and a passion that keep me shut up in my home office typing away for hours at a time.
Chapter One
Vittoria
,
Spain
,
21 June 1813
With victory won, the army plundered the baggage train abandoned by the French in their hasty flight. Elijah had never dreamed of such wealth all in one place. It wasn’t only the supplies and the paymasters’ wagons, but Joseph Bonaparte’s royal treasury, too, now that the British were hounding the emperor’s brother back to France.
Elijah supposed that in a perfect world, all this treasure would be carefully guarded until the British army and government in their wisdom decided to dole it out as prize money. Lord Wellington would get the biggest share, with smaller fortunes to the divisional generals and colonels, on down to the lowliest privates, who’d get just enough to drink and eat better than usual for a few weeks.
But he didn’t yet live in a perfect world. That was heaven, and there’d be no war there. Here on earth he was too practical to be a saint and take no share at all. A comfortable sense of his own virtue wouldn’t keep him fed or shod. So he coolly filled his haversack with silver francs from an overturned paymaster’s wagon, all the while keeping one eye on his men to make sure their plundering didn’t put them in danger.
A few French soldiers still wandered about, doing their share of looting before hurrying off to rejoin their own regiments. Elijah didn’t begrudge them a few coins or even a golden goblet or two. Who knew when they’d get paid again, poor devils, now that they were on the run. But when one of them started to dispute with George Yonge over possession of a silken dress, Elijah stepped closer and put on his most menacing battle face. Private Yonge was a thorn in his side, but if Elijah limited himself to looking out for the men in his company he liked, he wouldn’t be much of an NCO. And if corporal was the highest rank a man like him would ever be allowed to hold, then, by God, he meant to be the best damn corporal in all the army.
Upon beholding him, the Frenchman fled. Elijah had that effect on people, though away from the battlefield he tried to tamp it down. There weren’t many men in the army as big as he was, and even fewer as black.
Yonge nodded a grudging acknowledgement as he bundled up the bright blue silk. “Thanks.”
Elijah shrugged. He didn’t need thanks for merely doing his duty. “What on earth do you mean to do with a dress?” he asked.
Yonge rolled his eyes. “Find a woman to give it to, what else? Not all of us can get them onto their backs just because they want to see if the color is the same all the way down.”
“That happened once.” Elijah sighed out his annoyance and returned to the pay wagon. He should’ve known better than to stop to chat with Yonge. Some of the men were never going to have much respect for a man of his race. As long as they weren’t openly insubordinate against the small authority his corporal’s stripes gave him, it wasn’t worth trying to change their minds.
But the dress was such an odd choice he hadn’t been able to help remarking on it. If a man meant to loot, money was better than jewels or silks. Coins were anonymous, they could be spent little by little as he had need of them, and there was nothing surprising in a corporal having a few—though not quite the full haversack he was amassing.
Soon enough it would be time to restore order, and he’d do his part. For now, well, the war couldn’t last much longer. They were almost to France, and this little haul, carefully shepherded, would keep him till he found his feet if he was turned out of the regiment with the peace. He didn’t want that. He’d been born and raised in the Forty-Third, and at least some of his brother soldiers and the officers could look past his color to his abilities. But a man must be practical and prepared for all possibilities. He’d learned that at his mother’s knee.
He added a final handful of francs to his haversack, giving it a judicious shake. At his size, he was strong enough to bear the weight, and no one would challenge him for it. But would the seams hold?
As he fastened the laden haversack shut, a shrill cry struck his ear out of the roaring chaos around him. Sam Merrifield, angry and panicked, and not far away. Elijah followed his ears to an ornate, well-appointed carriage that had doubtless carried some French general or courtier of Joseph Bonaparte’s. Now it lay abandoned in a ditch with a broken wheel. Merrifield, one of the best privates in the company and ordinarily as even-tempered and good-natured a soldier as could be found, stood by its door, playing tug-of-war with a French straggler over something that glimmered gold and scarlet in the fading evening sunlight.
Elijah swore under his breath. He tightened his grip on his bayonet-tipped musket and squared his shoulders, preparing to be the Terrifying Negro again to protect his man.
But the Frenchman was too intent on his prize to pay Elijah any notice. Before he could cross the short space separating him from the combatants, the Frog drew out a knife, and quickly, deftly, never losing his grip on the golden bauble, stabbed Merrifield in the gut.
He screamed and let go, and Elijah roared out a challenge. Now the French soldier noticed him, but only to give him an insolent look. Elijah closed the gap between them at a run and slashed down with his bayonet across the Frenchman’s arms. He dropped the treasure—a necklace of heavy gold links set with large red stones—and brandished his knife, though blood leaked from one arm.
“Your army went that way,” Elijah snarled, nodding in the general direction of France. “Go.” He jabbed out with his musket until the bayonet tip was bare inches from the Frog’s throat. Even if the fellow didn’t understand a word of English, surely Elijah had made his meaning clear.
Still the Frenchman hesitated, his gaze darting to the fallen necklace. Elijah planted a foot on top of it.
Muttering curses, the enemy soldier at last turned and hurried away.
Elijah turned to Merrifield, who sat bent double in the open carriage, gasping for breath and clutching at his wound. Blood pulsed out from beneath his fingers, his face had gone dead white under his sunburn, and his breathing sounded strained and wet. Elijah reckoned he couldn’t last long. All for the sake of a little gold and some shiny stones.
“The necklace,” Merrifield gasped. “Pick it up!”
It wouldn’t do him any good once he was dead, but Elijah did as he asked. Even caked with dirt from the road, the thing shone, enormous stones red as fresh blood, linked in a chain of bright gold.
“They’re for Rose. Give them to her.” Merrifield’s breath was growing more strained, and he labored for the words.
What use would a queen’s ransom in jewels be to a soldier’s wife? Elijah supposed he shouldn’t think ill of the dying, but for all Merrifield’s goodness, he’d never had a steady or practical moment in his short life.
“Knew they were for her,” Merrifield continued. “Red for Rose. So pretty...coins I’d spend...but this...” He swayed, turning yet paler, then leaned forward with surprising strength and grabbed Elijah’s hand, the one holding the necklace. “Give these to her, from me, tonight. She can...be what she wants, now.”
He nodded assent. For Rose Merrifield’s sake, he would’ve agreed to far more onerous tasks. But before he could speak, Merrifield’s grip slackened, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into the carriage.
Elijah shut his eyes for a moment. To lose a man like this, a soldier he’d trained from a raw recruit, with the battle over... He bent over Merrifield’s body—the breath and pulse were gone—and laid a hand in benediction on his friend’s forehead. “
I
am the resurrection and the life
,
saith the Lord:
he that believeth in me
,
though he were dead
,
yet shall he live:
and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die
,” he murmured. He remembered, but left unspoken, what followed in the burial service:
We brought nothing into this world
,
and it is certain we can carry nothing out.
The Lord gave
,
and the Lord hath taken away;
blessed be the Name of the Lord.
“He’s dead?”
Elijah started and turned around. He tried to hide the necklace, crumpling it in his hand, but it was too big to wholly conceal.
It was Adam Lewis, another private from his company, staggering under the weight of his own overloaded packs and gaping at the gory scene.
“Yes,” Elijah said shortly. “A Frog stabbed him.”
“Over that?” Lewis nodded toward the necklace. “That’s very fine.”
“I promised to give it to Rose.” Of all the people he would rather
not
know about the thing, Lewis came near the top of the list, but it couldn’t be helped now. Elijah quickly glanced about to make sure no one else was looking, then reached inside his open uniform coat as if to scratch, tucking the necklace away. It made an uncomfortable lump pressed between his shirt and trousers, but the coat concealed it. He’d find a better hiding place for it later. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Why not? You
are
going to give it to her, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I keep my word. But if everyone knows about it, it won’t do her any good, don’t you see? There’s men who’ll try to steal it from her, or else force her into marriage so they can claim it for themselves. It must be a secret. Don’t you understand?” he asked, for Lewis was staring at him with a vacant expression.
“I reckon I do...”
“Promise you’ll keep it secret then, for Rose’s sake. You like her, I know you do. You wouldn’t want this thing to be a curse to her instead of a blessing, would you?”
“No...”
He hoped Lewis was finally beginning to
think.
Elijah would have to warn Rose that Lewis knew, so she’d know better than to say yes if he attempted to court her. She deserved a better man, one as good and clever as she was, who’d value her for more than a handful of gold and sparkling stones. “Swear it, then.”
Lewis blinked. “Very well. I swear to God I won’t tell anyone.”
“Good.” Elijah hoped it was enough, and that Lewis would remember even after he got drunk tonight. If Sam Merrifield had given his life trying to win a treasure for his Rose, the least Elijah could do was guard it well and pass it to her in secret. The new widow would have half the company buzzing around her for the sake of her beauty and her cooking already. He didn’t like to think what sort of courtship she’d endure if everyone in the regiment knew her husband had, in an odd sense, left her a fortune.
Five more soldiers from their company drew near and gaped at Sam’s body.
“Poor Sam,” Roberts said.
Pritchard, ever morbid, leaned around Elijah’s side for a better view. “Poor
Rose.
”
“Wonder who she’ll marry next?”
That was Yonge, who had hopes of being the happy bridegroom himself if Elijah didn’t miss his guess. Surely she wouldn’t pick him, though. She deserved so much better. But what if she’d never seen Yonge’s cruel streak?
“Show a little decency,” Elijah ground out. “Can’t you wait till her first husband is cold before you speculate on her second?”
“But she’ll have to marry someone, and soon,” Pritchard said.
“I was born and brought up in this regiment. I know the rules,” Elijah said. Soldier’s widows generally did marry again within days, especially when the regiment was on campaign. They needed
one
man’s protection to save them from falling prey to the many. And only wives were entitled to draw rations for themselves and their children. “Still, Merrifield isn’t even buried,” he said. “And she doesn’t have to marry anyone. She could go home.”
“The officers took up a collection to send Sally Davies home, after Badajoz,” Roberts put in.
Elijah risked a quick warning glance at Lewis, who thankfully was being silent with all his might. Rose wouldn’t need a collection, if only there was some way to convert that treasure of a necklace into ready cash without drawing too much notice. Elijah supposed he could trade his haversack of silver for it. But assuming the stones were real, his money wouldn’t make a tenth part of its value. It had to be worth hundreds of pounds, maybe even thousands. Then what was
he
to do with the foolish thing, when next he needed shoes large enough to fit his big feet or food for himself and his men when their rations were spoiled or delayed?
“It’s her choice,” he said at last. “It’s
not
decent to be talking about it so soon. If any man in this company offers Rose any disrespect, you’ll be sorry. I’ll make sure of that.” He put a note of menace in his voice to make sure the men understood he meant more than merely giving them extra sentry duty or stopping their wine rations for a few days.
They gaped at him. He’d never been given to brawling or violence toward men on his own side. His parents had warned him as soon as he began to grow tall that if he didn’t want people to see a big black man and think of him as a beast, he’d have to take an uncommon degree of care never to act the part of one. But Rose deserved to be safe, and if it took becoming the Terrifying Negro to his own men instead of the Gentle Giant to protect her, he’d do it.
* * *
“Rose! We are rich women.”
Rose finished tasting the stew from the gently bubbling pot—it needed more salt, as she’d suspected—before looking up to smile at her friend. “Rich? What did you find?”
Luisa grinned and set her satchel on the ground with a heavy thump. “Very rich. Half for you and half for me.” She opened the bag and ran her hand through a mix of gold and silver coins—hundreds of them, there had to be. Never before had Rose seen so much money in one place.
The thought of carrying that much coin around as they tramped from camp to camp staggered her. She shook her head as she stirred a generous pinch from her carefully hoarded salt stores into the stew. She always fed her Sam especially well after a battle—it was such a relief each time he lived through it. “It’s too much,” she said. “I’d be happy with a third, or a quarter.”
“No, we will share like always. You watched the boys
esta vez.
They are asleep now?”
