Scarred in a fire as an infant and rejected by her cruel father, Ella believes she is unworthy of love and is reconciled to spinsterhood; she is dismayed when Stephen Thorne, Duke of Hart re-enters her life.

She had last seen him when he had proposed, assuming she would fall at his feet in gratitude, as no-one else would offer for a disfigured bride. However, now he needs her help to decipher a code which threatens to bring down the king and incite a revolution.

Unknown to him, Ella has a talent for mathematics and deciphering, once she breaks the code, she insists on being included in his plans, she wants one adventure before she settles to her life as a spinster. He is amazed to find she has other talents, and they are soon embroiled in a dangerous mission, complicated by their undeniable attraction for each other.

Stephen has always loved her and curses the crassness of his youth, but Ella’s mental scars run deep, and she is not easily persuaded of his love, though she cannot deny that she is beginning to have feelings for him. Once the exhilaration of the mission is over will his feelings subside? Will he toss her aside for a more suitable bride? Or will they survive and claim the happiness they deserve?

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Release Date: April 27, 2026

Genre: Historical Holiday Romance

~ A White Satin Romance ~

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Excerpt

Prologue

 

Lady Ella Grainger turned her horse, Beauty, back towards Swallowfield. It would soon be getting dark, days in December were short and there was a hint of snow in the air. From her position on top of the hill at the edge of the estate she sighed as she saw the carriage travelling up the long, tree lined drive. She did not need to see the crest on the side to know it belonged to Stephen Thorne, Duke of Hart.

Her sister, Verity, had broken the news only this morning that he would be joining them for Christmas. For Verity’s sake she had appeared happy at the news, but had she known, she would have gone with her younger sister Caro, to visit her friend or she would have gladly accompanied her aged Aunt Bette to France. Anything would have been better than facing Stephen, the man who had proposed to her, not from love, or even for the generous dowry her brother-in-law had provided for he had no need of it. No, he had offered to marry her out of pity and because he needed an heir, but mostly because he thought she was desperate, and frankly it was just convenient to him.

It was clear he thought that she would fall at his feet with gratitude because he believed that, like her father, no other man would ever make an offer. She had been told all her life that she was ugly and cursed and no man would ever want to bed her unless the candles were out and the curtains drawn and they certainly would not want to look at her in the light. Her father had blamed her for everything that had gone wrong in his life, the loss of his fortune as well as his failure to sire a male heir. It was all her fault, his cursed child.

Her hand unconsciously went to the almost invisible scar down the side of her face where she had been burnt as a babe. Her father, the late earl almost seemed to take pleasure in taunting her, his words were etched on her brain: she was disfigured, she was a freak, a monster. On more than one occasion he had told her it would have been better if she had died in the fire. There was no coming out ball for her, why should he waste the money for no man would want her. While her father was alive, she had been almost hidden away, kept out of sight so that the sight of her would not offend anyone. It was only the love and acceptance of her step-mothers and step-sisters that she had gained some self-respect, but her father’s words were imprinted on her brain. ‘You are a monster, no-one will want you, no-one will love you, you are unlovable.’ The physical scars had faded, in a way the mental scars never would.

After giving her horse to a groom, Ella entered the house by a side rather than the grand front entrance in the hope of putting off meeting the duke a little longer.

“Ah, there you are,” her sister’s voice rang out. “What are you doing, skulking about? Stephen has arrived.”

“I noticed,” Ella replied.

“And that is no doubt why you are skulking.” Verity raised an elegant eyebrow.

“I was not skulking, I was merely ensuring that I did not traipse mud all over the floor,” she lied.

Verity said nothing but looked down at her immaculate riding boots. “Well, Stephen is here and I have just ordered tea, so please come and join us in the blue drawing room.”

“I thought I might change first...” Ella began.

The duchess took a deep breath. “I know this might feel a little awkward, not having seen Stephen for such a long time, especially given the fact that you did not part on the best of terms, but please, for the sake of the children at least, try to make his visit here a pleasant one. It is not often he is able to spend it with his family at Christmastide, and we are his family.”

“Very well,” Ella said with a sigh. “I just wish you had told me he was coming.”

“I did tell you, and I thought you and Caro were excited to see him again.”

Ella shook her head. “Caro was excited since she does not know the full story and I just pinned a smile on my face and pretended for her sake and yours. I did not want to spoil the celebrations, especially for the children, but to be honest I do not know how I feel about seeing him again, perhaps I should not have come after all.”

“That would never do, you are my sister, and I want you here, but more than that, I want you to enjoy yourself,” Verity replied with a hopeful smile. “Besides, it is time you two put the past behind you. Now come along, the tea will be getting cold.”

 

* * *

 

Stephen Thorne, Duke of Hart warmed his hands by the blazing fire. It had been six years since he had spent time with his brother, other than a few fleeting visits. His work, officially as a diplomat, had meant that he had spent the last few years abroad in the service of king and country, but in truth he had been only too happy to leave the country so that he would not come across Lady Ella Grainger. The fact that she had roundly rejected him still rankled, the fact that she was his sister-in-law made matters extremely complicated.

“Here.” His brother held out a glass. “This should warm the cockles better than the tea my dear wife will foist on you shortly.”

Stephen laughed. “I am looking forward to seeing Verity again, meeting my nephew and seeing my nieces, though it is so long since I have seen them that I doubt they will remember me.”

Elliott took a breath. “There is someone else here you will perhaps be less keen to meet,” he said, hesitant. “Ella is spending Christmas with us. Her Aunt Bette with whom she spends much of her time, has gone to the south of France for her health.”

Stephen’s glass paused halfway to his mouth, before he downed the amber liquid in one gulp. “Why did you not tell me before?” he demanded.

“Because I knew you would not come,” Elliott replied with a grin. “Verity is of the opinion, as am I, that it is high time you two settled your differences. Christmastide is, after all, a time for peace and goodwill.”

“Let us hope so, brother, let us hope so.” Stephen held out his glass. “I hope you have a goodly supply of this. I have a feeling I am going to need it.”

 

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