Some Enchanted Evening: The Lost Princesses #1

  Some

  Enchanted

  Evening

  CHRISTINA DODD

  To my daughters,

  Shannon and Arwen

  Don’t frown or your face will freeze that way.

  Don’t run with scissors.

  It hurts to be beautiful.

  Always wear clean underwear—it doesn’t matter if you’re in an

  accident, always wear clean underwear!

  Don’t pick at that.

  If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you have to jump off, too?

  And I hope you both have a daughter someday who is just like you.

  Make big goals, be happy, be healthy.

  I don’t want to hear any excuses.

  Thank you for your love and support through all the years.

  Love, Mommy

  Contents

  E-BOOK EXTRA:

  More about Christina Dodd!

  An interview with Christina Dodd!

  PROLOGUE

  Once upon a time, high in the Pyrenees Mountains, there…

  ONE

  The valley was his, the village was his, yet the…

  TWO

  Princess Clarice Jayne Marie Nicole Lilly took a breath and…

  THREE

  Clarice wrenched her hand back. No. The most handsome man…

  FOUR

  Yer Highness.” Mistress Dubb had lingered close enough to hear…

  FIVE

  Where did she acquire you, my lad?” Robert spoke to…

  SIX

  Millicent rode beside Princess Clarice and her brother down the…

  SEVEN

  Clarice watched Lady Millicent ride away and wished the woman…

  EIGHT

  Hepburn hadn’t been exaggerating. He did have a lot of…

  NINE

  Lord Hepburn wore a gentleman’s casual dark blue jacket with…

  TEN

  In the twilight of a Scottish spring Robert stared at…

  ELEVEN

  Dumbfounded, she asked, “In disguise? What do you mean, in…

  TWELVE

  Morning sun shone full on Clarice’s face as, dressed in…

  THIRTEEN

  The stables drowsed peacefully in the sunlight. The hostlers and…

  FOURTEEN

  You stole your horse. Hepburn knew the particulars. He knew…

  FIFTEEN

  From the window of Hepburn’s study, Clarice watched Robert ride…

  SIXTEEN

  Fear leaped in Clarice, the fear of a female who…

  SEVENTEEN

  Because you needed me.

  EIGHTEEN

  Clarice started down the corridor toward the library, Norval forgotten,…

  NINETEEN

  Colonel Ogley had waited his whole life for this. To…

  TWENTY

  In the shadows of the trees Robert threw a brown…

  TWENTY-ONE

  All the drapes in Robert’s bedchamber were open, allowing the…

  TWENTY-TWO

  She woke to find Robert over the top of her.…

  TWENTY-THREE

  Clarice couldn’t sleep. She wanted to. She knew she was…

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Millicent had never had people look at her as they…

  TWENTY-FIVE

  If Ogley hadn’t been watching Hepburn, he wouldn’t have seen…

  TWENTY-SIX

  Ogley stood apart from everyone else on the terrace. He…

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Clarice woke to a sense of urgency she hadn’t experienced…

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The next morning, as Robert approached MacKenzie Manor, he reflected…

  TWENTY-NINE

  Robert walked across the drawbridge over the dry moat, pulled…

  THIRTY

  Too late. Robert stared at Clarice, at her prince, and…

  THIRTY-ONE

  The summer sun was dipping toward the west when Robert…

  EPILOGUE

  He was back from Edinburgh.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY CHRISTINA DODD

  CREDITS

  COPYRIGHT

  ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

  More about Christina Dodd!

  Christina Dodd maintains, “Readers become writers, and I’ve always been a reader.” When she was young, she read everything, but as she grew up, she discovered that she liked romance best. “Why?” she responds when questioned. “Because, for one thing, I like humor. A woman wants things like world peace, a clean house, and a deep and meaningful relationship based on mutual understanding and love. A man wants things like a Craftsman router with attachments, undisputed control of the TV remote, and a red Corvette which will miraculously make his bald spot disappear.”

  So while she was in her twenties and working as a draftsman, she would read voraciously during her lunch hour, authors like Georgette Heyer and Jayne Ann Krentz. “Then I would go back to design a sawmill, and while I was drafting, I would plot the ending of the book in my mind, she says. “My version always had a different conclusion, and I always liked my endings better.”

  So, when her first daughter was born, she told her husband (a man with all his hair and no Corvette, but many Craftsman tools) that she was going to quit work, and write a book. It seemed like a perfect time to start a new career, because how much trouble could one little infant be?

  Dodd quips, “Yes, go ahead and laugh. It took me ten years, two children and two unpublished manuscripts before I was published.”

  Today, the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author is enjoying the publication of her first hardcover, SOME ENCHANTED EVFNING. When asked what inspired her to embark upon this ambitious series in a day and age of rampant disenchantment, Dodd notes, “I was inspired by the classic fairy tales (think Beauty and the Beast) filled with lost princesses, haunted castles and mighty quests that must be accomplished before true love can be found. I also love the modern fairy tales (think Shrek) where the princess gets to kick some butt. So for SOME ENCHANTED EVENING and the whole Lost Princesses Series, I worked to create a fun stories that are a cross between The Princess Diaries and Pirates of the Caribbean.”

  Her novels have been translated into ten languages, featured by Doubleday Book Club, recorded on Books on Tape for the Blind and in large print, won Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart and RITA Awards, and been called the year’s best by Library Journal.

  An interview with Christina Dodd!

  1. Romance authors are prolific writers. Knowing that there are so many romance books published each year, how do you keep your ideas fresh and avoid traveling over well-worn territory?

  Story situations become clichés because they’re the tales people want to hear over and over. When I start a book, I try to think of the stories I’ve enjoyed, and use that as a basis for the plot, giving it my own twist and my own characters. The heart of romance remains the same whatever the story—one man and one woman overcome great conflict
to achieve everlasting love, and my goal is to remain true to that heart, and to tell the classic stories in my own voice.

  2. You write with recurring characters in your stories. How do you keep track of what your characters have done to ensure that your storyline stays true?

  It’s not difficult when I immediately realize I’m going to use a character again and again. Then I mark their characteristics, appearance, age and other statistics down where I can check them. The problem comes when I write a character who’s so popular and so delightful to write I use them again although I didn’t originally plan to. Then it’s easy to confuse a vital component of the character…like a last name, which I once did. Of course, my readers noticed.

  3. Do you visualize your characters as anyone in particular? A celebrity or a significant other?

  No, I’m invariably trying to put myself inside the character, to see the world through his/her eyes, and what the characters look like is much less important than their motivations, their reactions and their emotions.

  4. How do you do your research?

  Books. I have an extensive library and since I love research, I use every excuse to do research that will further my plot. I also have a lot of extremely knowledgeable writer friends who, if they don’t know the answer, usually know where to find the answer. And finally, if I absolutely can’t track down a detail, I turn to my daughter who is amazing at finding information on the Internet.

  5. Level with us—how easy or difficult is it to write a love scene?

  If I’m in the mood to read a love scene, I can write a love scene, and over the years what I’ve learned to seize the moment and write love scenes out of sequence, if necessary. Of course, it’s always tough to write about the sex act without using the rather unromantic medical terms (his penis entered vagina) or descending into purple prose (his purple-headed love warrior met her clinging velvet tunnel). At such a sensitive juncture, it’s easy to say the wrong thing, and nothing’s worse than making a reader giggle while reading a love scene.

  Hm. No, actually, worse would be boring the reader so much she skips the love scene.

  6. Which do you think readers prefer, the more erotic/graphic romance or the old-fashioned romance that leaves most everything to the imagination? Has this changed over the years?

  That’s what so great about romance, and why it commands such a presence in the market. Whatever kind of book the reader prefers, she can find it on the shelves. Romance comes packaged as anything everything from Christian romance to erotica.

  7. In the publishing business, do you feel there is a stigma attached to romance novels and, by extension, romance authors?

  Probably, but more than that, authors who believe their destiny is to change minds in publishing are wasting their time. One can’t change someone else, one can only change oneself, and the best defense against elitism is to armor yourself with the knowledge we’re writing what readers like to read and making them happy in the process. It’s a powerful, positive feeling.

  And romance writers and readers need to remember, romance isn’t the only genre that suffers its stigmas. I have a friend who writes children’s books, and she says whenever she tells people that, they start speaking very slowly and using really little words.

  8. What are some things that you think could help increase awareness and sales of romance books?

  Whenever I go out and speak to the public about romance and publishing, the response is always positive. I know a lot of romance authors, and they tend to be witty, charming, intelligent ambassadors of the genre. In the thirteen years since I first published, I’ve noticed an increase in the awareness and the respect for romance, and a corresponding increase in sales, and a lot of the credit goes to the quality of the writing and the authors themselves.

  9. What do you love about your fans? Tell us about a memorable encounter with one of your readers while on tour, or via your website or email.

  My first book, CANDLE IN THE WINDOW, featured a blind heroine and was recorded on Books on Tape for the Blind. Over the years I’ve received letters from women who were visually impaired, telling me that my “understanding of the problems and daily frustrations of the blind was unique,” and that the story was “not only enjoyable but a wonderful advocate for the cause” (of the blind.)

  10. What are you working on now?

  On February 27, ONCE UPON A PILLOW, the anthology I wrote with Connie Brockway, was released in rack size paper-back format. Included will be the excerpt of my second contemporary, ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE!

  In May, an anthology story from a 1995 book called ONE NIGHT WITH A ROGUE is repackaged and republished in MY SCANDALOUS BRIDE. I’m very proud of the story, The Lady and The Tiger, and since the book had a limited distribution, this will give you the chance you’ve been waiting for to read it. And in case you missed it the first time, the excerpt of ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE will be included in MY SCANDALOUS BRIDE, too!

  In June, at last, the second book in the Lost Texas Hearts, ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE, will be released. Of course, it’s Pepper’s story. When Pepper witnesses a terrible crime, she’s forced to return to the small town in the mountains where she meets Dan Graham, the only man she ever loved…the man she could never forget. The bonus in ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE will be the excerpt for my next historical, SOME ENCHANTED EVENING!

  And in July, SOME ENCHANTED EVENING hits the shelves. SOME ENCHANTED EVENING is my first hardcover, and the start of a new historical series, The Lost Princesses. Three princesses are sent into exile in England to wait out a revolution, and before long, they disappear. The prince of a neighboring country sets out to find them, for one is his bride.

  Of course, while you’re reading, I’ll be writing two more historicals and the third book of the Lost Texas Hearts Series.

  Warmly,

  Christina

  Prologue

  Once upon a time, high in the Pyrenees Mountains, there were two tiny kingdoms, happy and properous. In one kingdom, Richarte, a son was born and declared the crown prince.

  In the other kingdom, Beaumontagne, three daughters were born amid great rejoicing. Sorcha, Clarice, and Amy were raised in royal splendor by their loving father, the king, and their grandmother, a martinet who demanded they perform their royal duties at all times.

  Then revolution swept Europe and swept the two kingdoms into turmoil and anarchy.

  In secret, after three years of warfare, the three princesses of Beaumontagne were sent to the safety of England. Their father, the king, was deposed and died. After six years of warfare, their grandmother wrested control back from the revolutionaries. She sent her most trusted emissary for her granddaughters, but Godfrey was not loyal. He had been corrupted and accepted money to kill the heiresses. In the end, he couldn’t bear to murder the girls, so he told them to flee, then reported to the old queen that they had disappeared. The old queen sent messengers far and wide, but alas, no one could find a trace of the Lost Princesses.

  A cruel usurper, Count Egidio duBelle, threw the prince of Richarte into the deepest, darkest dungeon and there, for eight years, the prince languished. At long last he managed to escape and make his way to Beaumontagne. There he struck a deal with the old queen.

  If he had found all three of the Lost Princesses, he could choose one as his bride. When the wedding had been performed, then, and only then, would he be allowed to take the armies of Beaumontagne to overthrow the cruel usurper and assume his own throne once more.

  But while the prince searched for the princesses, Count duBelle sent men to hunt the prince, and the princesses themselves, remembering Godfrey’s warning, feared to show themselves.

  So like many good schemes, the plan to rescue the Lost Princesses went awry….

  One

  Never call attention to yourself. A princess’s reason for existence is to fulfill her duty as a representative of the royal family. Nothing more.

  —THE DOWAGER QUEEN OF BEAUMONTAGNE

  SCOTLAND, 1808<
br />
  The valley was his, the village was his, yet the woman rode into the town square of Freya Crags as if she owned it.

  Robert MacKenzie, earl of Hepburn, frowned at the stranger who cantered over the stone bridge and into the bustling crowd. It was market day, and booths of brown canvas were set up along the perimeter of the town square. The place rang with the sound of a hundred voices calling out their wares, but the stranger dominated the crowd, towering above them on a fractious two-year-old colt. The chestnut stepped high, as if proud to carry her, and the quality of the horse alone would have turned heads.

  The lady in the saddle attracted even more attention—first fleeting looks, then open stares.

  Robert glanced around at the small circle of old men gathered in the sunshine in front of the alehouse. Their wrinkled mouths sagged open as they gawked, the table and checkerboard before them forgotten. Around them the sounds of shoppers and merchants haggling turned into a buzz of speculation as every eye turned to view the stranger.

  Her riding costume swathed her from neck to toe with black wool, preserving the illusion of propriety yet outlining every curve of her trim figure. Her black hat was tall, with a broad brim, and black veiling floated behind. The red trim on her sleeves matched the red scarf at her neck, and those small bits of vivid color shocked and pleasured the eye. Her bosom was generous, her waist narrow, her black boots shiny, and her face…

  Good God, her face.

  Robert couldn’t look away. If she’d been born in the Renaissance, painters would have flocked to her door, begging that she pose for them. They would have painted her as an angel, for her wavy, golden hair glowed with a light of its own, giving her a nimbus like a halo. Copper glints in the curls seemed to possess a power to warm the hands, and Robert’s fingers itched to sink into the waves and discover the heat and the texture. Her softly rounded cheeks and large amber eyes under darkened brows made a man think of heaven, yet the stubborn set of her chin saved her face from a cloying sweetness. Her nose was slight, her chin too broad to be truly attractive, but her lips were wide, lush, and red. Too red. She rouged them, he was sure of it. She looked like an Englishwoman of good quality—except, of course, no woman of good quality ever rouged her lips, and certainly never traveled alone.