Link Either by signing into your account or linking your membership details before your order is placed. Description Extract Product Details Click on the cover image above to read some pages of this book! Industry Reviews "An unconventional storyteller who knows exactly how to touch a reader's heart and reach deeply into the soul Beg pardon! Not surprised at the lack of accommodations, Vim moved off in the interest of sparing his bleedin' ears. Though moving wasn't easy in the crowded confines of the common. The floor was a slick expanse of that particular type of mud created when snow, horse manure, and dirt were tracked in from the semifrozen quagmire of the inn yard, and yet it was hardly the worst feature of the crowded room.
The stench rising from the floor blended with the aromas of wet wool, unwashed bodies, and overcooked mutton stew to offend even the lowliest nose. Overlaying it all was the incongruous scent of cinnamon, as if a little spice would confer on the scene some sense of seasonal good cheer. Which was not bloody likely.
Piercing the noisome air, over the cursing and muttering of stranded travelers, over the scrape of boots and the swearing of the hostlers in the yard beyond, came that sound most capable of driving Wilhelm Lucifer Charpentier to madness.
Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish | D&R - Kültür, Sanat ve Eğlence Dünyası
A crying baby. Vim had noticed the little blighter when all the passengers on his stage had been told to debark here in the very heart of London, because the weather was precluding further progress on the journey south. Like benumbed sheep, they'd all stumbled into the inn, toting their belongings with them only find an assault on their ears was to be the price of thawing their toes. The child's crying ratcheted up, from indignant to enraged. The next progression would be to inconsolable, which might last hours. Happy bedamned holidays. Vim knew people in London. People who would act pleased to see him.
People who would smile and welcome him as an impromptu guest for the duration of the foul weather. Happy people, offering him wassail while they laughed their way through the same hopeless madrigals and selections from Handel's Messiah. He shifted his gaze from the scene beyond the window to the woman holding the unhappy baby a few feet away.
May I be of assistance? Overall, she wasn't a pretty woman-she had a full though solemn mouth in the usual location, underscored by a definite chin and a nose somewhat lacking in subtlety.
Lady Sophie's Christmas wish: Windham Series Series, Book 4
Her hair was dark brown and pulled back into a positively boring bun at her nape. But those eyes And her voice. It was the voice of a pretty lady, soft and luminous with good breeding and gentility, though she was using it to try to gently scold the child into better behavior. She had a dignity about her, though, even holding a bellowing baby. She just went around to the back for a moment. Vim took the child, who appeared distracted by the change in venue-though likely only temporarily. This pronouncement earned him a blinking, blue-eyed stare from his burden.
Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish
Behave your little self, or we'll call the beadle to haul you off to gaol. That's better. A trip to the necessary will hardly keep her until spring. She took off at as smart a pace as this footing will allow. Would you be so good as to extract it? The lady was perceptive too. She stuck a hand into the pocket of his greatcoat and produced the handkerchief without further comment.
A hint of late spring. Cool, sunny, sweet She stepped back to watch him warily. Vim shifted the child and retrieved the handkerchief, which had protected his greatcoat more or less from carrying the scent of infant digestion for the rest of the day. He hoped. Vim took a step back so the lady might have a view out the window. He also disengaged his proboscis from the baby's surprisingly strong grip. My own travel has been interrupted because of it. She caught it deftly in one hand.
When Vim dipped his head, she positioned the hat back where it belonged. They all have more energy than they know what to do with, until they sleep like the dead, restoring themselves for their next round of mischief. You can linger here, but I honestly do not think the mother will return. May I have your coach brought round for you? Skip to main content. The listing you're looking for has ended.
Very Good. View original item. Sell one like this. We found something similar. About this product. Make an offer:. Stock photo. Brand new: lowest price The lowest-priced brand-new, unused, unopened, undamaged item in its original packaging where packaging is applicable. Other notes. See details. See all 6 brand new listings. Buy It Now. Add to cart. Be the first to write a review About this product. All She Wants is Peace and Anonymity Lady Sophie Windham has maneuvered a few days to herself at the ducal mansion in London before she must join her family for Christmas in Kent.
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Suddenly trapped by a London snowstorm, she finds herself with an abandoned baby and only the assistance of a kind, handsome stranger standing between her and complete disaster. With his estate in ruins,Vim Charpentier sees little to feel festive about this Christmas.
His growing attraction for Sophie Windham is the only thing that warms his spirits-but when Sophie's brothers whisk her away, Vim's most painful holiday memories are reawakened.
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It seems Sophie's been keeping secrets, and now it will take much more than a mistletoe kiss to make her deepest wishes come true So Sweet Felt Cozy Just by Reading It. Poignant and Tender. Sweet, but Ever So Tantalizing. Makes Fora Wonderful Holiday Read.
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