Excerpt

Alison curtsied to Whittington upon his approach. “Oh, how honored we are that you will join us, Lord Whittington!  I cannot believe I am to be privileged to be in your presence.” The sarcasm dripped from her words.

“Imp, you push me too far. There is a pond along this path, so beware,” Jonathan warned with a smile.

Alison smiled back in turn and, taking her brother’s arm, proceeded down the path with Whittington at her side.

“You know, Jonathan,” commented Robert, “you are supposedly the catch of the year this season: Lord Captain in Her Majesty’s dragoons and heir to the Duke of Calhoun make you the catch of the year!”

“Just what I need, a bunch of silly, giggly females hanging on my every word while their mamas encourage them!” Whittington snorted. “Why can it all not be simple? Why must everything surrounding marriage be dictated by ‘the ton’? Why can it not be…” He trailed off, looking at something — or was  it someone? — over by the pond.

“Jonathan?” Alison saw the look in Jonathan’s eyes. Surely not, she thought. Not Jonathan Carmichael, Marquis of Whittington! “You are not suggesting love might ought to play a part in marriage, are you?”

“And why not?” he queried. “Your parents are obviously taken with each other, and heaven knows my parents are ‘in love’ as you call it. They are all very happy in their….”

Jonathan’s attention was again directed to the pond.

Robert looked in the same direction and noted several people milling about the water’s edge, but then he took note of Whittington’s pointed gaze. “I say, old boy, has that Viscount’s daughter caught your eye?”

Jonathan could only look toward the pond, toward the tall, slender form of a young woman adorned in a pale-blue walking dress. Her bonnet concealed her hair, but he saw wisps that had escaped. They were as golden as the sunlight on the water. Her face was heart-shaped, and her eyes crinkled around the edges when she laughed. The color of those expressive orbs was a mystery to him, but Jonathan knew they sparkled with life as did her whole demeanor.

“Who is she, Robert?” Jonathan asked in reverent tone.

“Why, your right honorable Marquis of Whittington, that is Lady Eleanor Lampeir. She is the only daughter of the Viscount of Cormickshire. Did you not meet her when she was introduced at Harrington’s ball last week?” asked Alison.

Jonathan barely moved his head in the negative. He quickly turned to Alison and took her by the shoulders.  Alison’s eyes were wide. “Will you make the introduction now? Please, Alison.”

“Jonathan, you know it would not be the best propriety to do such a thing.”

“Alison, please?” he pleaded in a soft voice.

Alison led him, the Marquis of Whittington, to meet Lady Eleanor Lampeir.

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About the Author

D.W. Craton began writing while still in high school, creating a number of novellas that today would be classified as “fan fiction,” much of it based on the original “Star Trek” television series; she also completed a Western saga novel while in high school. In the ensuing years college, medical school, and family intervened to limit her creative opportunities, but after retiring from an active medical practice in 2022 she was able to complete the current novel about Jonathan Ryan Carmichael, the Marquis of Whittington, which she began writing in 2004. The author is married to her college sweetheart, and together they have raised three sons, hosted four foreign-exchange students, and cared for numerous cats throughout her 38 years of medical practice. She states that the impetus to complete this novel came largely through her sons’ good-natured sniping at her fascination with period romance novels. She hopes her readers enjoy her story-telling and will look forward to reading more from her pen as the Whittington saga continues.

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