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Author
Name: Rebecca Cohen
Author
Bio:
Rebecca
Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left
London behind and now lives with her husband and baby son in Basel,
Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of
Darjeeling in the other.
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover
Artist: Reese Dante
Blurb(s):
Benjamin
Redbourn, Earl of Crofton, has no intention of giving up his beloved ancestral
home without a fight. Faced with his mother’s gambling debts, forgery, and the
possibility of foreclosure by the bank, Ben vows to make Crofton Hall pay for
herself. But opening an Elizabethan manor house
to the public isn’t a one man job. With time running out, Ben needs
help—and fast.
Ashley
Niven has experience managing events, and he also loves history. Being in
charge of opening Crofton Hall is a dream come true. As he works with Ben to
prepare the house as a venue for lavish weddings and receptions, Ashley finds
himself drawn not just to the charm of the house but to the dashing Earl of
Crofton. Even if Ashley can look past
Ben’s playboy reputation, he fears an affair could prove too much of a
distraction.
But
Crofton Hall has many secrets, and something hidden for over four hundred years
is about to change all their lives.
Excerpt:
“How
much?”
She
wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Mum!”
“Just
short of five million to the bank.”
Ben
lost his balance and landed heavily on his arse in a nearby chair.
“How
the hell did you manage that? I only agreed to borrow five hundred
thousand,
and that was for essential repairs, and the estate could easily
repay
the loan in ten years.”
“I
approached the bank with a business case for a visitor attraction.
They
were very enthusiastic.”
“What
gave you the right?”
“Your
father left us both in charge of Crofton Hall, Benjamin,” she
said
sharply.
He
glowered at her and she deflated.
“I
needed the money, and the only way I could get it was to tell the
bank
I wanted to open Crofton Hall to the public.”
“And
they agreed to lend the money without my permission?” he
asked
carefully, hardly believing his mother’s audacity, but getting the
feeling
he knew what she was going to say next.
“They
might have been under the impression that you’d agreed to it,
and
I was acting on both our behalves.”
“Really.
And how would they have thought that?”
“Your
signature isn’t exactly hard to copy.”
Ben
covered his face with his hands, understanding what his mother
had
done.
“I
know I shouldn’t have, not without your permission, but I was
desperate.
And the bank thought our business plan was excellent.”
He
looked up at her. Elena’s eyes were red from crying, but there
was
still an edge of defiance in her face. “How much is left?”
She
shrugged. “A few thousand, maybe.”
“And
you used Crofton Hall as security?”
“Yes.”
The
anger flashed through him, burning through his usual amicable
nature.
“How could you have been so stupid? Were you even thinking past
your
own selfishness?”
Elena
cowered in her seat.
“You’ve
ruined us, destroyed this family!”
“I
didn’t mean—”
Ben
didn’t want to hear her feeble excuses. “Oh, that’s all right, then.
We’ll
tell the bank, you didn’t mean it, and they’ll forget all about it.”
Ben
reined in his anger. Taking deep, slow breaths, he clenched and
unclenched
his fists as he regained his calm. He watched Catlin pace up
and
down. Harry stood slumped against the fireplace, shell-shocked. Now
was
not the time to panic. He needed to know exactly how much trouble
they
were in and deal with it. “Get me the paperwork.”
Without
argument, Elena jumped to her feet and scurried over to the
writing
bureau in the corner. From the folds of frills and ruffles of her
blouse,
she fished out a key on a chain and unlocked the bureau. She drew
out
a sheaf of paper. “It’s all here.”
“Right,
let’s hope my economics degree wasn’t for nothing.” Ben
snatched
the papers. “I suggest you all keep your distance until I’ve
finished
reading.”
He
sank into a chair by the unlit fireplace, blocking out the angry
thoughts
as he scanned sheet after sheet. The figures danced before his
eyes,
and he saw the terms and conditions his mother had agreed to. The
interest,
compound interest, and payback terms were listed and
categorized
in black and white with no way of denying the facts. They
were
in deep shit, the bank would be at the door within weeks, and Ben
seethed
internally at his mother’s gall.
The
effort she’d put into defrauding the bank was amazing, the
business
case had been full of fine details and promised an excellent
return,
but little help would that do them now.
Unless….
Ben
stared around the sitting room; generations of Redbourns had sat
in
here. Men who’d fought at Blenheim, Waterloo, and El Alamein —they
would
never have given in and surrendered Crofton Hall in the face of
adversity.
And it wasn’t about to happen while Ben was Earl of Crofton
either.
As much as he wanted to rail against it, their only hope was to
convince
the bank they were following through with the idea of opening
the
house to the public.
“We
can probably sell the London apartment. That’ll raise around
two
million. Our trust funds are protected, so we can’t release the equity
from
those. If we’ve any hope of holding on to her, Crofton Hall is going
have
to earn her keep.”
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