Keta's Keep: June 2011

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Sojourn With A Stranger - Two Chapter FREE Read!

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About Sojourn With A Stranger:

Penniless when she arrives in Norfolk, her mother and father drowned at sea, Raine Brinsley longs to return home to her grandfather in Maine. When Derek Stafford, owner of a large plantation, offers a solution to her dilemma, she’s stunned, if not outraged. She’d prefer to fulfill the contract to have his child and forget about him and his self-serving scheme. If only she could dispel the passion he’s awakened in her.

Derek Stafford’s only wish is to father an heir to Stafford House, thus securing his future. He didn’t count on the Scottish lass with green eyes interfering with his well-laid plan. After one night in her arms, guilt, not to mention the loss of his soul, becomes his penance. He’ll do anything to win her back, anything to quench the hunger tormenting his soul.

* * *

Derek dropped into an overstuffed divan opposite Raine. He pulled the leather pouch and brown envelope from his vest pocket, and placed them on the oak table separating them. Alternately, she looked between the pouch and his face.

"I'm not certain how to begin." He wrung his clammy hands. Damn, this is more difficult than I imaged. "We had a discussion several evenings past in the garden?”

"I remember.”

"I explained my father’s desire to obtain a male heir and my inability to produce one thus far?”

Dark green eyes searched his. "Yes, clearly.”

"You're a beautiful woman with a significant amount of intellect and a variety of coveted traits and talents."

"Thank you, but you hardly know me."

"That's true." The words managed to slip out his dry throat. “However, what I've witnessed since your arrival exceeds my highest expectations."

"Expectations?"

"You're in a difficult situation.” He forced a smile. "I'm prepared to offer you a way out."

"A way out of what, Derek? I’m not understanding―"

"Hear me out, please." Rising from the chair, he paced before her. "I realize the arrangement will seem outrageous at first, even obtuse, but I've thought a great deal about it since our meeting in the garden. I took the liberty of consulting an expert."

"An expert? Whatever for?”

"Childbirth."

A nervous giggle left her lips. "I'm not following you. Perhaps you should come right out and tell me what arrangement you're alluding to."

The seconds ticked away on the mantle clock, sounding like a thousand crickets had breached the room. "Yes, I'm trying to get to the point of all this." He stopped pacing and held onto the back of his chair. "Here's the way of it. You need to earn enough money to return to your grandfather in Maine. I, on the other hand, need a son.”

Her brow furrowed.

“I'm offering you freedom in the long run. In exchange, I want to have a child with you, preferably, a male.” The words rushed forth. “However, if you’re delivered of a female, I’ll love and accept her just the same.”

An audible gasp fell from her lips. "Oh, but I can’t possibly accept a proposal of marriage from a virtual stranger. It would be most unfair to both―”

Good, God, she thinks I’m offering marriage? Marriage? “No, that is, you misunderstood my proposal. I’m not suggesting we marry.”

Her eyes widened.

Walking to the table with a tentative gait, he picked up the envelope. “More money than you could earn in a lifetime is in here. I'm offering half now and the other half when the contract has been met."

She looked at the envelope and then at him, her tone icy. “How much is in the envelope?"

"Five thousand dollars."

Another gasp.

"Five thousand now and five thousand the day the child is born." Tossing the envelope on the table for effect, he continued. "It's yours right now should you accept my offer." A rapid pulse took flight in a tiny blue vein in her neck.

"If you're not offering marriage, in what capacity will I live in the manor?"

"You'll be free to go home after the child is born. Until then, you'll have complete freedom to do whatever you choose."

Her eyes narrowed, and sparked.

"You said you wished to return to your grandfather one day. That day can be sooner than you think if you sign the contract my barrister drafted." He nodded toward the envelope. "It's also in there."

Her face paled. "Horace Masterson, the kindly gentleman who promised me safety until I returned to Maine?"

"Yes, the money guarantees your security, and your safety.” Walking around the chair, he settled into it and leaned forward. “At the very least, read the contract. I'm sure you'll agree the terms protect you.”

Her lower lip quivered, and he wondered if she might cry. Christ, what would he do if she launched into a crying jag? He couldn't bear up under her tears.

"You seem quite well prepared.” Her gaze took him apart inch by inch. "I commend your valiant efforts to keep your father's threats at bay."

"I can’t find fault with your reaction at the onset, but surely you see the practicality on both sides?” After drawing in a lungful of air, he added, “You’ll be free to go about your life when it’s over in a manner envied by most women. I’ll acquire an heir to Stafford House, and my father will end his relentless pursuit.”

“Oh, please enlighten me." She pinned him with a lethal glare. "Should I decide to engage in your well-contrived scheme, how do you propose we bring the end result to fruition?"

"It's quite simple,” he said, aware the temperature in the room leaped to an unbearable degree. "You spend three nights in my bedchamber, the specific nights will be chosen by Madelina. She’s prepared―”

“Who is she?”

“A healer, a woman who dabbles in tonics, remedies. She’s already prepared several concoctions.” He dug for the instructions in the pocket of his vest. “You must follow her recommendations when it comes to diet and tinctures for several weeks. She’s highly skilled, claims certain remedies will enhance the possibility of producing a male child. I'll expect you to follow her recommendations if you accept my offer.”

She shook her head. "I must applaud your tenacity and the immense preparation you expended in carrying out your duplicitous plot."

“There is nothing duplicitous about this. I’ve told you everything.”

She looked away from him, but not before he saw the sadness return to her eyes again, and something he didn’t recognize. Indecision? Hatred? An interminable amount of time passed before he dared speak again. “Think of it as a business arrangement."

She turned to him with a look that said she would love to sever him at the knees with a saber.

"I’d like your decision in two days. You’ll find me in my study two nights from now. If you decline, you can remain at Stafford House until you’ve earned enough money to return to Maine. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes," she said with calm composure. "Why me? There must be countless women who’d agree to bear your child.”

"I thought I made that clear. You possess undeniable beauty, have obviously been well educated, and you have the physical attributes, height and stature, I hope are passed on to our child.” He shrugged. "It's that simple."

Flushed with anger, the green eyes darkened. "Will that be all?"

"Yes," he replied, finding it difficult to look at her. "Unless you have additional questions."

"I do not." She rose from the chair, her tone cold. "I believe I understand perfectly well.” Offering a false curtsy, she added, "If you'll excuse me, sir."

He nodded.

The moment her footsteps faded from the room, Derek unfurled himself from the chair and headed for the liquor cabinet, his only thought to down a double dram.

* * *

Her fists clenched, her back rigid, Raine scurried through the kitchen and followed a moonlit path to the familiar garden bench. Stifling angry sobs of disbelief, a muffled groan left her lips. What kind of man is Derek Stafford, and what will I do now? She couldn't remain at Stafford House after the conversation that just took place. To think yesterday she felt grateful for his kindness, his generosity, had almost fallen for his charm. Cold fear clutched her heart, and then anger. How dare he reel her in like an insipid dunce with his sad tale, garner her pity over his inability to father a child. She wanted to cut his cold heart from his chest with a dull knife.

She sat in the garden for the better part of an hour, returning to the manor only when she had regained her composure. How she prayed she wouldn’t cross paths with the insufferable beast while scurrying to her room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she slammed the door and then locked it. A flash of brown on the pillow caught her eye. She recognized the envelope immediately. Next to it, sat a leather pouch containing the remedies he alluded to. She picked up the envelope and looked inside. Counting the bills, five-thousand dollars to be exact, angry oaths stuck in her throat.

A folded piece of paper sat amid the bank notes, the contract he spoke of. With open mouth, she read through it. Derek Stafford's signature, penned in black ink resided next to Horace Masterson's. Below, a blank line appeared for her signature. She tossed the envelope against the window and found a small measure of satisfaction when the bills flurried through the air and floated down to the carpet.

Two days. She had two days to make a decision. She climbed into bed, tugged the pillow over her head and cursed the day she met Derek Stafford.

Chapter Five

Ribbons of sunlight flooded Raine's room, rousing her from bed. She slouched into the chair beneath her window to collect her thoughts, her mind racing against time.

Derek's deadline had passed and she hadn’t come to a solid decision. How she battled with the choices before her--right from wrong, money versus poverty, lust over loathing. On the one hand, the irrationality of his proposition struck a dissonant chord. On the other, practicality overrode those warnings.

She'd counted the money a dozen times, knowing an equal amount awaited her once she met the terms of the contract. The funds would allow her to seek the medical care Grandfather needed, and pay her passage to Maine. A thousand times over. She imagined purchasing a fine house, away from the cold, damp ocean. Whatever Grandfather needed in his final years would be his for the asking. So why did guilt splay her heart?

What she knew of childbirth could fit in a thimble, how to care for an infant, less. One of the terms in the contract stated she would legally surrender the babe to Derek Stafford after the child was born. However, could she do such a thing? The answer to that question eluded her. At least one issue rang clear in her mind—if she accepted Derek’s offer, she could not form an attachment to the infant.

Vastly ill equipped to deal with a woman's lying in period, that dilemma seemed the least of her worries. One could accomplish anything once they set their mind to it.

The nights she must spend in his bed ranked high on her list of conundrums. She bristled every time she read the details of their coupling. If she lost the child or delivered a stillborn, she’d afforded the proper amount of time to restore her health before fulfilling the terms of the contract. Or forfeit the remaining five thousand dollars.

She could opt to forgo another series of bedchamber visits with the black-hearted devil, keep the original five thousand for her trouble and be on her way. She shook her head and wondered anew what black undertakings had tainted the man's soul. The adjectives describing the cad ran thorough her head like a litany. Abhorrent. Loathsome. And cold-hearted.

From whatever angle she approached the terms, the lord of the manor considered her chattel, or worse, a whore. Visions of sharing his bed surfaced. An avid reader, and thus somewhat learned in amorous escapades, a man who paid a woman for his sexual pleasure must be an incompetent lover. The thought delighted her. How she'd love to toss his bumbling inadequacies in his face one day.

The last paragraph of the agreement stated she must surrender all rights to the child from birth through all eternity. Further, she would agree to take the first ship out of Norfolk the moment the physician deemed her fit to travel. Finally, Horace Masterson, Esquire, Norfolk, Virginia, and Derek Stafford of Stafford House, the same city, had signed their names and dated the contract. That rankled her most of all. How sure they must have been she'd accept.

Her grandfather’s words echoed in the small room. ‘There be no one in life to watch over ye, but ye. Be on the alert for scoundrels and rogues. Stay one step ahead of the miscreants.’ Oh, Grandfather, I pray you can see it in your heart to forgive me.

She'd consent to the shameful contract, but the bounder would rue the day he’d struck a deal that originated at the gates of Hades.

With a sigh, Raine rose from the chair and walked to the bureau to wash her face. Pressure in her chest, a result of her heavy heart, made it difficult to breathe.

What little air she possessed in her lungs left in a quiet rush. An open Bible rested beside the porcelain washbowl. Not just any Bible but the one she'd placed in the trunk. Dear God, Lucinda's Bible. A tremor rippled through her. She glanced at the passage marked with a red check. Psalm, 41:9: Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.

The air cracked with tension, and yet the deafening silence choked her. She hugged her cold body with the realization an icy chill had invaded the room. Most frightening was the sudden appearance of Lucinda's Bible. Even the clock on the night table had stopped ticking. She crossed the room, gave it a tap and breathed a sigh of relief. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Placing her hands to her temples, she attempted to clear her brain. Not a soul had entered her room this morning. She'd been preoccupied with the contract, but she would have noticed a person placing the Bible on the washstand. Unless it wasn't a person.

Raine glanced to the bed and gasped. The translucent outline of a woman appeared. Her hands were folded across her chest, her bosom rising and dropping with labored breaths. Raine closed her eyes and prayed that when she opened them the vision would be gone. The chill vanished as quickly as it had entered. She opened her eyes and expelled a raspy breath. The woman had fled too, leaving her Bible behind.

Grandfather had told her about spirits, desperate souls who remained behind with unfinished business or to warn the living that evil lurked in their midst. She sensed the spirit wouldn't harm her, but her abrupt appearances unnerved her. The poor creature would leave once her business was concluded, her mission accomplished. But what was the specter's mission?

The thud of horse's hooves on the ground outside drew her to the window. The outline of Derek’s sculpted body clung to the steed's mane and his hair billowed about his head as he raced from the property.

At least she'd been granted a reprieve for the day, wouldn't have to gaze upon his wickedly handsome face. Not until tonight. With a sick knot in her stomach, she wondered which topic she should broach first with him, the ghost who haunted her bedroom or the contract. Both were equally frightening.

* * *

Late that evening, Derek sat at the oak desk in his study with his head between his hands. He found the waiting unendurable. Fresh candles, brought from the kitchen by Crete this afternoon, graced the room and lifted his sour spirits. He hadn’t heard from Raine in three days, long, tortuous hours where he vacillated between despair and hope. What should he think in the face of her silence? Does she find me repulsive? Am I lacking in the physical attributes she desires in a man? The war wound hadn't crippled him, but most days he wasn't able to hide the limp. Perhaps she demanded perfection in a mate. Maybe he'd erred believing money motivated most people, particularly when the delectable creature living in his manor could never be classified with most people.

The pleasure of gazing upon her perfection eluded him since their last discussion. But last night, the soulful notes from the piano had drifted through the manor. Torment in truth, for every carnal vision known to man stormed through his bedeviled brain. Moved by her impassioned brilliancy, he had closed his eyes and allowed the sonata to devour him. She had played a piece by Haydn with such depth; the musical genius would have applauded her performance.

About to close his ledgers, a rap at the door launched his heart into rapid beats. Crete and Henry bid him goodnight several hours ago, which could only mean one thing. The lovely lass stood on the other side of the door, no doubt carrying news of her imminent departure to Maine. The thought churned his stomach.

"Come in," he said in a failed attempt to keep his voice level.

The door creaked opened and in walked the woman who haunted his dreams at night and tormented his days. He pushed from the chair and walked to the side of the desk. "Good evening, Raine." She didn’t answer him, but rather pinned him with a look of annoyance. He pointed to a chair near the hearth. "Please, have a seat."

With a nod, she walked toward the fire and dropped gracefully into a wingback. He sensed no open hostility, but then again, she didn't exude warmth either. Folding her hands in her lap, she raised her chin and met his gaze. "I've come to a decision."

Five short words, and already he felt like a moronic schoolboy hoping to harness the lead role in a play. "I imagine your scarcity speaks for itself."

"I needed time to think and, I have questions."

He settled into a chair across from her. "Reasonable enough.”

"Do we have an understanding you'll love and care for the child, male or female?"

His heart fluttered. "Yes, most assuredly. Should you be delivered of a girl, I'll love and cherish her. The child will want for nothing."

"You mentioned I must agree to meet Madelina."

He nodded.

"What does she require of me?"

"Information," he said, treading lightly. "It's necessary for her to chart your--your cycle, identify the optimal time for copulation."

Color rose in her cheeks. "What else?"

"I believe she has instructions for you--for us--to increase the odds of producing a male." He tapped his foot against the floor, waiting through the painful seconds while attempting to read her thoughts.

Long moments later, she spoke, "What do you plan to tell Crete, Henry, and your family about the impending birth?"

"My father will be informed you've agreed to bear my child and have also agreed to leave Stafford House after the birth. The others will believe you were with child when you arrived at the manor."

He flinched at her bitter response. "I see. I'm to play the part of a harlot in addition to surrogate?"

"I couldn't come up with a more suitable explanation―"

"Ah, yes, explanations." Her eyes clouded over. "A woman of loose character would have no compunction about surrendering her child." Her foot matched his against the floorboards.

"After the babe is born, they'll be told you received a letter from your grandfather beseeching you to return to Maine due to his ill health."

"Most convenient. And so, I've agreed to desert my child."

"Our child," he corrected her. "It makes sense it would be in the babe's best interest to remain at Stafford House while you travel home."

Her teeth clenched and next her hands. She looked as if she'd like to breach the short distance between them and slap him. "But in truth, never to return, of course."

"They'll assume you will return one day, but in reality you won't."

"You've thought of everything." Her eyes went from light green to dark emerald. The alteration reminded him of a star burning out on its way to earth. "I'm staggered by your elaborate scheming on such short notice."

Guilt dogged him, as it had so many times since he thought of the plan. He tried to respond, but the words couldn't get past his tongue. How did she have the ability to reduce him to a blithering idiot?

"You're truly ingenious, Derek, quite resourceful."

"I can't allow your personal thoughts about me to enter into the equation." With the realization he sounded brusque he softened his tone. "Do you have any other questions?"

Her lips thinned. "That will suffice for now, but I do have terms."

Hope reared its head. She'd thought enough about it to demand terms. "Please, proceed."

"You'll deposit the five thousand dollars you so generously left on my pillow into an account in my name at the bank. I need full access to the funds, must be able to withdraw them at my choosing."

Lightheaded, the taste of victory licked at his senses. "Of course, anything else?"

She handed him a piece of paper. "I've signed the contract."

Next to his signature, hers appeared. Anxious to bring the session to conclusion before she changed her mind, he said, "I'll ride into Norfolk in the morning, meet with Mister Thomas at the bank before I ride to Madelina's."

"And then?"

"I'll make arrangements to meet with her according to your schedule."

"My schedule?" She snorted. "I agreed to carry your child, but I remain your humble servant. Please, inform me of the time and day."

"Very well, anything else?"

Her back stiffened. "Yes."

"Proceed."

"Something is amiss in my room."

"Whatever it is, you need only tell me and I'll see to it immediately."

She studied him, and he had the distinct feeling she wanted to say something derisive. She did. "I believe this is one thing even the great Derek Stafford can't correct."

"I won't know until you tell me."

"At times, my room takes on an icy chill."

"Is the hearth not working?"

"Perfectly well."

Damnation, why didn't she just spit it out? "I'm not good at guessing games. Whatever it is―"

"Your wife's Bible suddenly appeared on my bureau, the one I placed in the trunk before Henry toted it to the attic."

His heart skipped a beat and a wave of dizziness washed over him. "What are you saying?"

"I feel a presence beside me and cold air suffuses the room."

Tongue-tied again, he gaped at her.

"I assure you, my faculties are intact. There is a specter in your manor. I suspect it is trying desperately to tell me something."

"God in heaven! You're perfectly serious."

"I am."

Her calm tone unnerved him.

She rose from the chair and walked to the door, turning briefly to look at him. "You're so very good at explanations, perhaps you can explain why your late wife's spirit is attempting to reach me." With that, she walked from the room, closing the door in her wake.

* * *

Snippets of reviews from Sojourn With A Stranger

Forbidden Passion Reviews - ***** Five Stars "Historical Masterpiece"

Sojourn with a Stranger is absolutely wonderful. I was captivated and submerged from beginning to end. This is not your typical love story, but none the less spellbinding. Derek is a man who is struggling to make a place for himself in a world where his family's name is his life's "golden ticket". Raine is a very strong willed and prideful young lady. These two characters blend together effortlessly while keeping with the normal love/hate relationship that they seem to share. You will be emerced in the pages of this great romantic & historical novel. Keta Diablo is a master when it comes to historical romance and has proven once again that she is a delightful storyteller that deserves to have all of her novels read.

Amazon Reviewer - ***** Five Stars "Fell In Love With Story and Characters"

It took just a couple pages until I was totally hooked, and couldn't stop reading until I got to the very end. This book has it all, a charming heroine, a sexy, flawed hero and a cast of supporting characters that were extremely enjoyable. I yelled at my computer a few times when Ms. Diablo threw in her surprises, but luckily for my monitor it all worked out in the end. Five Stars and Highly Recommended!

My Book Addiction and More - ***** A MUST READ PARANORMAL HISTORICAL ROMANCE!! SOJOURN WITH A STRANGER

This is a fast paced,page turning story of love,finding forgiveness with ones self,and looking forward to the future.Dreams can come true,if you only believe.If you enjoy paranormal,ghosts,historical romance and a great love story this is the story for you.I so enjoyed this story and would suggest you go to your favorite on line site and purchase "Sojourn With A Stranger".This book was received for the purpose of review from the author and details can be found at Amazon Digital Services and My Book Addiction and More.

Want to read more Five Star reviews? Visit Amazon where Sojourn With A Stranger is available on KINDLE: http://amzn.to/gQLMV2

Also available on Nook: http://bit.ly/gS6XvG

Thanks so much for reading. My wish is you have many happy Summer Reads.

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Sunday, June 26, 2011

Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday !

6:00 AM |

Posted by Keta Diablo |

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My six sentences are from my latest release

Cradle of Dreams

an erotic time travel (historical)

WARNING: This novel contains graphic sex, including anal

BUY ON KINDLE:

http://amzn.to/jknpEs

Setup: Roane has just returned from the war and discovered the woman he's loved for years is betrothed to another. Roane drags Kendrick into a private study to get the answers he needs.

SENTENCES

“Answer me, goddamn it, how long before you went to Pitt's bed!”

“Never,” she screamed, beating her fists against his chest. “I’ll never tell you because it doesn’t matter now. You’re supposed to be dead!”

He released her so suddenly she stumbled backwards, stopping only when the red velvet settee hit the back of her thighs.

“Very well,” the son of Satan said, have it your way. Know this, before you leave this room, I will have my answers.”

She swallowed her fear and met his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t think I’m doing anything, my pet. I know what I’m doing.”

* * *

Sign up for my newsletter here. I give away three

books every time it's sent out:

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Monday, June 20, 2011

Sojourn With A Stranger (Free Read) Two Chapters

7:16 PM |

Posted by Keta Diablo |

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Thank you to Debora Dennis, author extraordinaire, who is also hosting me on her blog, The Saucy Scribe today! Be sure and stop by and take a peek at the books Debora has available: http://thesaucyscribe.wordpress.com/

About Sojourn With A Stranger:

* * *

"I'm not certain how to begin." He wrung his clammy hands. Damn, this is more difficult than I imaged. "We had a discussion several evenings past in the garden?”

"I remember.”

"I explained my father’s desire to obtain a male heir and my inability to produce one thus far?”

Dark green eyes searched his. "Yes, clearly.”

"You're a beautiful woman with a significant amount of intellect and a variety of coveted traits and talents."

"Thank you, but you hardly know me."

"That's true." The words managed to slip out his dry throat. “However, what I've witnessed since your arrival exceeds my highest expectations."

"Expectations?"

"You're in a difficult situation.” He forced a smile. "I'm prepared to offer you a way out."

"A way out of what, Derek? I’m not understanding―"

"An expert? Whatever for?”

"Childbirth."

A nervous giggle left her lips. "I'm not following you. Perhaps you should come right out and tell me what arrangement you're alluding to."

Her brow furrowed.

An audible gasp fell from her lips. "Oh, but I can’t possibly accept a proposal of marriage from a virtual stranger. It would be most unfair to both―”

Good, God, she thinks I’m offering marriage? Marriage? “No, that is, you misunderstood my proposal. I’m not suggesting we marry.”

Her eyes widened.

She looked at the envelope and then at him, her tone icy. “How much is in the envelope?"

"Five thousand dollars."

Another gasp.

"If you're not offering marriage, in what capacity will I live in the manor?"

"You'll be free to go home after the child is born. Until then, you'll have complete freedom to do whatever you choose."

Her eyes narrowed, and sparked.

Her face paled. "Horace Masterson, the kindly gentleman who promised me safety until I returned to Maine?"

Her lower lip quivered, and he wondered if she might cry. Christ, what would he do if she launched into a crying jag? He couldn't bear up under her tears.

"You seem quite well prepared.” Her gaze took him apart inch by inch. "I commend your valiant efforts to keep your father's threats at bay."

“Oh, please enlighten me." She pinned him with a lethal glare. "Should I decide to engage in your well-contrived scheme, how do you propose we bring the end result to fruition?"

“Who is she?”

She shook her head. "I must applaud your tenacity and the immense preparation you expended in carrying out your duplicitous plot."

“There is nothing duplicitous about this. I’ve told you everything.”

She turned to him with a look that said she would love to sever him at the knees with a saber.

"Yes," she said with calm composure. "Why me? There must be countless women who’d agree to bear your child.”

Flushed with anger, the green eyes darkened. "Will that be all?"

"Yes," he replied, finding it difficult to look at her. "Unless you have additional questions."

"I do not." She rose from the chair, her tone cold. "I believe I understand perfectly well.” Offering a false curtsy, she added, "If you'll excuse me, sir."

He nodded.

The moment her footsteps faded from the room, Derek unfurled himself from the chair and headed for the liquor cabinet, his only thought to down a double dram.

* * *

Two days. She had two days to make a decision. She climbed into bed, tugged the pillow over her head and cursed the day she met Derek Stafford.

Chapter Five

Ribbons of sunlight flooded Raine's room, rousing her from bed. She slouched into the chair beneath her window to collect her thoughts, her mind racing against time.

Vastly ill equipped to deal with a woman's lying in period, that dilemma seemed the least of her worries. One could accomplish anything once they set their mind to it.

She'd consent to the shameful contract, but the bounder would rue the day he’d struck a deal that originated at the gates of Hades.

With a sigh, Raine rose from the chair and walked to the bureau to wash her face. Pressure in her chest, a result of her heavy heart, made it difficult to breathe.

* * *

"Come in," he said in a failed attempt to keep his voice level.

Five short words, and already he felt like a moronic schoolboy hoping to harness the lead role in a play. "I imagine your scarcity speaks for itself."

"I needed time to think and, I have questions."

He settled into a chair across from her. "Reasonable enough.”

"Do we have an understanding you'll love and care for the child, male or female?"

His heart fluttered. "Yes, most assuredly. Should you be delivered of a girl, I'll love and cherish her. The child will want for nothing."

"You mentioned I must agree to meet Madelina."

He nodded.

"What does she require of me?"

"Information," he said, treading lightly. "It's necessary for her to chart your--your cycle, identify the optimal time for copulation."

Color rose in her cheeks. "What else?"

Long moments later, she spoke, "What do you plan to tell Crete, Henry, and your family about the impending birth?"

He flinched at her bitter response. "I see. I'm to play the part of a harlot in addition to surrogate?"

"I couldn't come up with a more suitable explanation―"

"Ah, yes, explanations." Her eyes clouded over. "A woman of loose character would have no compunction about surrendering her child." Her foot matched his against the floorboards.

"After the babe is born, they'll be told you received a letter from your grandfather beseeching you to return to Maine due to his ill health."

"Most convenient. And so, I've agreed to desert my child."

"Our child," he corrected her. "It makes sense it would be in the babe's best interest to remain at Stafford House while you travel home."

Her teeth clenched and next her hands. She looked as if she'd like to breach the short distance between them and slap him. "But in truth, never to return, of course."

"They'll assume you will return one day, but in reality you won't."

"You're truly ingenious, Derek, quite resourceful."

"I can't allow your personal thoughts about me to enter into the equation." With the realization he sounded brusque he softened his tone. "Do you have any other questions?"

Her lips thinned. "That will suffice for now, but I do have terms."

Hope reared its head. She'd thought enough about it to demand terms. "Please, proceed."

Lightheaded, the taste of victory licked at his senses. "Of course, anything else?"

She handed him a piece of paper. "I've signed the contract."

"And then?"

"I'll make arrangements to meet with her according to your schedule."

"My schedule?" She snorted. "I agreed to carry your child, but I remain your humble servant. Please, inform me of the time and day."

"Very well, anything else?"

Her back stiffened. "Yes."

"Proceed."

"Something is amiss in my room."

"Whatever it is, you need only tell me and I'll see to it immediately."

She studied him, and he had the distinct feeling she wanted to say something derisive. She did. "I believe this is one thing even the great Derek Stafford can't correct."

"I won't know until you tell me."

"At times, my room takes on an icy chill."

"Is the hearth not working?"

"Perfectly well."

Damnation, why didn't she just spit it out? "I'm not good at guessing games. Whatever it is―"

"Your wife's Bible suddenly appeared on my bureau, the one I placed in the trunk before Henry toted it to the attic."

His heart skipped a beat and a wave of dizziness washed over him. "What are you saying?"

"I feel a presence beside me and cold air suffuses the room."

Tongue-tied again, he gaped at her.

"I assure you, my faculties are intact. There is a specter in your manor. I suspect it is trying desperately to tell me something."

"God in heaven! You're perfectly serious."

"I am."