A penniless dock worker inherits a title and his family’s destitute estate. In order to save the house and grounds, he puts an ad in the paper for a wealthy wife from the United States. The damaged Emma Swan is desperate for a new start anywhere but New York. Together, will they save Kentledge Hall?
@ofshipsandswans made the beautiful cover art featured above, and she also created 1, 2, 3 corresponding moodboards!
Emma’s nightgown trailed the floor as she paced, wringing her hands as her mind raced. Perhaps she could not blame him. The man, was, after all, on his way to a war he may well have not survived. Or perhaps it was a moment of complete drunkenness in which he had lost all of his inhibitions. He had only been married for a matter of weeks at that point, and it was not like the marriage itself had been consummated. Turning on her bare feet, she shook her head. Her mind was a complete torrid of emotions. One moment she understood him if the child was indeed his, and in the next she wanted to rip his heart out and stamp upon it for betraying her.
Pausing near the window, Emma stopped to watch the sun rising through the frosty panes. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. A knock at the door told her it was exactly seven o’clock.
“Come in,” she muttered over her shoulder.
Ruby stepped into the room and warmed her hands by the fire for a moment before setting about to lying her mistress’s things out for the day.
“Did you sleep well, your Ladyship?” Ruby asked, moving to the wardrobe.
“I didn’t sleep at all,” Emma sighed, turning to face her oldest friend. She took a seat on the chaise longue near the bed. “I can’t help but think about this…this woman who has come to stay.”
Ruby paused and glanced toward the door. “Mrs. Bell?” She looked back to Emma, raising an eyebrow. “Do you not like her? I found her to be pleasant.”
“Well, yes, she is pleasant, I suppose,” Emma conceded, twisting her silk nightgown around her finger, “but the child…”
“I thought you liked children,” Ruby said, a little more quietly.
Looking up at Ruby, Emma cocked her head and slowly raised her own eyebrow at the young woman before her. Ruby feigned a puzzled look for a mere moment, then let her shoulders slump in defeat. “I’m sure…things are not quite as they seem, Emma.”
“Really?” Pushing off of the chaise, Emma drew in a deep breath and walked toward the fire. “I should know better, honestly. I spent my entire life growing up around men who kept mistresses of all sorts. It’s what rich men do.”
It All Starts With a Dance 