TRADITIONAL REGENCY

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"A Sweeter Revenge "(c) by Joan M. Fox

Kent, England, 1808

Seventeen-year old Marigold Calloway was sure she found her soul mate, the man she would marry.

Hearing horses’ hooves clopping on the carriageway, Marigold came out of her upstairs bedchamber, curious to see who had arrived. Peeking over the second storey balustrade, her heart skipped a few rapid beats when she saw a stranger entering the manor with her brother. Whoever he was, he was the handsomest man she ever laid eyes upon.

Down below in the foyer her mother welcomed both men.

Who is he? Marigold wondered as her girlish breathing accelerated.

At that precise moment the stranger glanced up at her as his white teeth flashed her brilliant smile.

She almost swooned on the spot. Excitement tore a jolt through her as his eyes met hers.

Good Lord, I think I’m going to expire!

The strangest feeling raced along her spine, invaded her chest cavity. She sucked in an audible gasp and clutched a fist to her nicely-rounded bosom. Within minutes her first crush clamped invisible chains around her untouched heart.

Her eyes widened as they explored his manly physique. His shoulders looked broader than her brother’s. He was taller than Bennett, too. Curling over his broad forehead, his hair was a black as pitch. Gray eyes gleamed with quicksilver as he gazed about the foyer with unhurried curiosity. Marigold was mesmerized, appraising straight nose and smooth, squared jaws jutting below the wide forehead, slashing eyebrows, and deep-set intense eyes. Even then, Marigold was immediately aware of a unique charisma emanating from him by the way he stood, completely relaxed but seemingly ready to pounce. He looked as vibrant and potentially dangerous as a July thunderstorm barreling across a summer sky, churning up untamed torrents of air in its wake. His sheer vitality excited her. Wild sensations claimed her as her heart pounded. She recalled the time she’d been confronted by a vicious badger in the woods where she sat sketching on a fallen log. The animal scared the wits out of her. Delicious tremors prickled acoss the skin of her bare forearms. New and enthralling, the feeling was much different.