The very handsome and very bored Lord Trowbridge knows something is missing in his existence. When he is asked by a friend to escort the seemingly quiet Miss Sophie Edwards to her first ball, he has no idea she possesses the key that will unlock him. It is her secret weapon.Once he sees his own inner workings, his life unfolds in a different manner. He will do anything to capture the love of his “angel.” Unfortunately, his old life and the shibboleths of the ton stand in his way. As he wades through these afflictions, Sophie is courted by another man. Who will she choose? How can he possibly show his love for her in a way as original and unique as she is? What are Sophie's feelings for him?
Excerpt!
Frank set up the target, then paced off the distance to the place where Sophie should stand. Fanny sat watching in a garden seat, wearing a large sun bonnet, cradling Alexa in her arms. Sophie donned her new gauntlets and took up the bow, holding it as she had watched others do.
Trowbridge said, “Here, let me show you.” Putting both arms around her, he placed a hand over each of hers. She was locked in his arms so closely, she could smell the citrus of the cologne he wore. His strongly muscled arms held her encircled completely. Heat prickled over her whole body.
“You nock the arrow just so. Then you close one eye and, stretching out the bowstring, you look with your other eye along the length of the arrow to the target,” he said. “Line them up.”
She tried to do as he suggested, but it was impossible to concentrate with his arms around her.
“Angel!” he said, his voice husky. “You are trembling. Relax the bow.”
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him and looked into her eyes.
“Lord Trowbridge, are you trying to seduce me?” she asked in a low voice.
“What?” His forehead bunched, his eyes showed outrage.
“I may be just a green girl, but I cannot think of one other reason why you would contrive to have me in your arms.”
Full of some odd energy, he clutched his fists and paced about in a circle. “Not a single other reason?” He paced some more, finally coming to a halt in front of her. “Have you forgotten the night before last? I believe your soul actually seared mine, Sophie. Archery is but a game. But my feelings for you, though I make light of them most of the time, are not. And I am Frank, Sophie.”
She could only nod.
Praise for Lord Trowbridge's Angel
"Vandagriff's recipe for spinning a delightful story with so many unexpected twists and involvements is truly masterful." ~willsand
"Ms. Vandagriff is a master of description. She understands men and women and the nuances between them." ~ L. Glenn
"Vandagriff is quickly becoming an esteemed name on the shelves of regency romance. Lord Trowbridge's Angel is sweet, humorous, and of course romantic, and you'll become an instant fan." ~Heather Moore
