About Triumph and Treasure
Book One in the
Highlander Heather Romancing a Scot Series
A disillusioned Scottish gentlewoman.
Angelina Ellsworth once believed in love—before she discovered her husband of mere hours was a slave-trader and already married. To avoid the scandal and disgrace, she escapes to her aunt and uncle’s, the Duke and Duchess of Waterford. When Angelina learns she is with child, she vows she’ll never trust a man again.
A privileged English lord.
Flynn, Earl of Luxmoore, led an enchanted life until his father committed suicide after losing everything to Waterford in a wager. Stripped of all but his title, Flynn is thrust into the role of marquis as well as provider for his disabled sister and invalid mother. Unable to pay his father’s astronomical gambling loss, Flynn must choose between social or financial ruin.
When the duke suggests he’ll forgive the debt if Flynn marries his niece, Flynn accepts the duke’s proposal. Reluctant to wed a stranger, but willing to do anything to protect her babe and escape the clutches of the madman who still pursues her, Angelina agrees to the union.
Can Flynn and Angelina find happiness and love in a marriage neither wanted, or is the chasm between them insurmountable?
“My lord, are these some of your blossoms?” Her Grace waved at the flower vases positioned throughout the room. “I’ve heard of your successful venture into breeding these beauties.”
That caught Mrs. Thorne’s attention. Her jewel-green eyes swept the roses. A line formed between her brows, and she mashed her lips together, lowering her gaze to her cup. She took a dainty sip of tea.
Didn’t she care for roses? Or perhaps the tea displeased her. Dolt. He ought to have had coffee served as well, since she preferred the beverage.
“Oh, indeed they are.” Pride rang in Grandmamma’s voice. “See those stunning blooms on the mantle? Have you ever seen roses that particular shade of pink? Why, they appear almost lavender. Makes me think of fresh highland heather on the Scottish moors. And Flynn has a rose that is almost black.”
“Mrs. Thorne, don’t you like roses?” Franny also noticed Mrs. Thorne’s expression.
The Duchess chuckled indulgently. “With a name like Angelina-Rose, of course she does. Tell them of your gardens in Salem. Your mother wrote of your fascination with the flower.”
A becoming flush pinkened Mrs. Thorne’s high cheekbones.
So, she entertained a penchant for roses after all. Precisely the excuse he needed to invite her to tour his conservatories and spirit her away from the watchful eye of the duchess. Franny could accompany them and act as chaperone.
Flynn controlled the satisfied grin threatening to twist his lips. “Did you know the great bard, Shakespeare, professed a fondness for them? He proclaimed, ‘Of all the flowers, methinks the rose is best.’”
Mrs. Thorne nodded, her interest fixed on a painted porcelain vase poised on a side table. “I’m partial to them myself, though I cannot claim such a complicated endeavor as breeding them. I simply tended a few humble plants in our gardens. I don’t believe they numbered in excess of ten in all.”
About the Author
Award winning, multi-published historical romance author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching. A Pacific Northwest Native, Collette’s been most of her life, has three amazing adult children, and five dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You’ll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels.
Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers.
She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.