The Duke of Hampstead looked through her at Sunday sermons and hadn’t even once since Rowena’s family moved here, bothered with so much as a “hello.” Why would he be here-? Then the truth slammed into her. The duke was here to see her? It didn’t make any sense. The strong scent of those vibrant buds any other time would have been a soothing balm. She stared unblinkingly at the pink freesia. Kneeling in the gardens, with the sun burning down on her neck, Miss Rowena Endicott froze. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.įor more information about the on Facebook at: Christi Caldwell Authorįor first glimpse at covers, excerpts, and free bonus material, be sure to sign up for my monthly newsletter! If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy.

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