Grace by Contract

 

  Rachel Rossano is a happily married mother of three children. She spends her days teaching, mothering, and keeping the chaos at bay. After the little ones are in bed, she immerses herself in the fantasy worlds of her books. Tales of romance, adventure, and virtue set in a medieval fantasy world are her preference, but she also writes speculative fantasy and a bit of science fiction.

  

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After her father uproots the family to the northern duchy of Brackenhurst, Grace Eldon and her four younger sisters struggle with a new life of hardship. Desperate to keep a roof over their heads amid mounting debts, she and her youngest sister seek employment in the Duke of Brackenhurst’s household despite fearsome rumors.

Scarred and maimed from a terrible fire Silas Isling, Duke of Brackenhurst, buries himself in his work to avoid the stares of pity and fear. When one of the new maids shows no fear at his appearance, he is intrigued. That is until his meddling steward gives her the task of cleaning Silas’ bookroom. It is a most unwelcome disruption since he prefers to be alone.

While a thief plagues his castle, an old nemesis reappears, and enemies invade in the guise of guests. Amidst the distractions and chaos, Grace brings some unexpected order. Once convinced his scars had stolen all hope for love, Silas finds his life forever changed by the quiet maid. Could she love a scarred Duke?

  

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Snippet:

Grace

The pair of us ascended the stairs once again, this time with a black-and-white shadow in tow. The puppy’s nails clicked on the steps, and his tail beat at my skirts as he scampered ahead.

“He is going to need a name,” Silas observed.

“You don’t approve of Whip?” I asked.

“I believe in naming things what you hope them to be: stalwart, faithful, brave.” He glanced over his shoulder as he leaned on his cane at the top of the stair. “What do you hope him to be?”

“Valuable and steady.”

“Valiant?”

“Yes.”

“Then let us call him that.” He turned to the dog, who had sprawled untidily next to him on the top step, tongue lolling. “What do you think, Val?”

The dog lifted his head to regard his new master and sniffed the air.

As Silas worked his way past him and on down the corridor, Valiant leapt to his feet and eagerly caught up, almost tripping Silas in his efforts to stay close.

“That’ll do,” Silas ordered the dog, using one of the commands he had been trying to teach the newly recruited shepherds.

Although he had a moment of apparent confusion, the dog responded by calming and giving Silas space to walk. Silas paused, watching the dog as he settled his hindquarters on the floor. “He has been trained. Perhaps his skill is just not proven.”

“Or just young and exuberant,” I pointed out as I approached them.

The dog lifted his head and watched my movements with bright, intelligent eyes.

“Perhaps.”

  

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