Title The Lady’s Risk: A Marriage of Convenience Regency Romance (Conrad Legacy 4)
Author C.K. Mackenzie
Genre Regency Romance
Publisher Emelia Publishers
Book Blurb
She escaped a doomed betrothal only to find herself unwittingly married to her handsome protector.
Layla Braithwaite didn’t belong anywhere. Born to a British merchant and an Egyptian widow, she lived most her life in the shadows, hidden away. When her mother dies, she finally escapes the family that only saw her as their servant. Little did she know that searching for a way out of Damietta, and an unwanted marriage, would lead her straight into the arms of a British sailor.
Philip Conrad sailed for Damietta to reestablish trade between England and Egypt. Sure, he’d been seeking adventure, but he hadn’t expected a woman to sneak aboard his ship—nor did he expect the pull of attraction. Never one to turn his back on a person in need, he agrees to help her escape the country. But when the man who’s intent on marrying her discovers them together, Philip does the only thing possible.
He marries her himself.
It was not how he intended his stay in Egypt to begin. Layla hadn’t wanted marriage at all, but she isn’t foolish enough to object. When her father’s old business partners reveal their suspicions that her parents were murdered, Layla is determined to find those responsible. The problem? She has no idea how. Luckily, her new husband agrees to walk into this new danger with her.
From a marriage of convenience with a runaway bride to partners in crime.
With each secret they uncover about her family, Layla and Philip grow closer. But will it be enough to last a lifetime? Or will the weight of those secrets bury their marriage before it truly begins?
Excerpt
“I’ll marry her.” She heard the exasperation in Conrad’s voice clear enough.
“Philip,” Harry muttered just as Argus appeared from wherever he’d been hiding and growled at Omar Shadi and the two men with him. Neither had offered a name, but clearly the older man was Layla’s supposed betrothed.
They spoke in rapid Egyptian, which they thought Philip wouldn’t understand. The anger he suppressed ignited with each disparagement against Miss Braithwaite. Hands curling into fists at his sides, he held himself still. Barely.
He didn’t see Harry’s eye roll or hear his sigh, but he knew well enough what his friend was thinking. It came through clearly in his exasperation. Impetuous, Harry would say. Always had been, and it seemed he hadn’t outgrown it as much as he claimed. Or would’ve liked.
The wind blew over the deck in the stunned silence that followed his pronouncement. So much for that hard-won control.
Philip held Shadi’s gaze even as he felt the astonishment of his crew. Shadi looked stunned also, as if this was as far from whatever he’d expected as he imagined. The son merely scowled.
“You want the girl?” Shadi sneered, a truly ugly look on his face. “Bah, I knew she was a whore. Just like her mother.”
Philip punched him.
His control snapped. One moment Shadi spoke ill of Miss Braithwaite and her mother, the next Philip didn’t even have time to berate himself for his impetuousness. The loss of his valued control.
One moment Shadi belittled Miss Braithwaite, the next he lay on the deck.
“La tuthurc,” Philip spat in warning. The other man narrowed his eyes, but al-Najjar held him back with a swift word of warning himself. Fighting for his control, Philip waited. The man didn’t utter a word but deferred to al-Najjar. He didn’t understand any of this.
The old man laughed. “I like you, Captain Conrad,” he said in clear English. The wisps of his white hair blew merrily in the wind. “If you can pay for her, you can have her.”
Philip nodded once in acknowledgement. Argus barked, and its echo was the only sound on the deck for a long moment. Philip didn’t bother quieting him.
“You have a way with people,” Harry muttered.
“It’s a gift.” Philip ran a hand down his face and looked over his shoulder. “Clear my deck, Harry. I think we’ve had enough visitors for one day.”
Harry snorted again but did as Philip asked.
Miss Braithwaite stared in wide-eyed shock, and the two men beside her watched with interest, all emotions carefully hidden. Though there might’ve been a snicker concealed behind a carefully raised hand.
He would never live this down.
Nonetheless, he meant it. As spontaneous as his words had been, no one should be spoken of the way Shadi spoke of his niece. Philip wouldn’t go back on his word…no matter that he’d spent all of an hour with her.
Crossing the deck, he bowed to a still wide-eyed Miss Braithwaite. “I apologize. I realize my actions were, ah…hasty.”
Her eyebrows shot up at his understatement. At least she appreciated that. “I don’t even know you,” she whispered. She paused, a drawn-out hesitation in which she seemed to wrestle with her next words. Peering around him, her shoulders sagged. “At least you aren’t seventy.”
She flushed and closed her eyes, but Philip laughed. It didn’t feel like a laughing matter, of course, and she couldn’t know he laughed mostly at himself and his own reckless ways. Still, he hoped it had diffused the situation. Slightly.
“Seventy? No, not even close. Is that how old al-Najjar is?” He paused. So that was the older man, then. He’d sent a lackey—or his son, Philip didn’t much care—but didn’t trust either him or Shadi, and so he’d come himself.
“At least.” She stopped and held his gaze, as if reading his mind. If she asked, he’d tell her he didn’t have a reason, that the words just slipped out. Which didn’t happen very often. Not anymore. Nowadays, he kept a tight rein on his feelings. Except, apparently, this morning. She didn’t ask, however, merely studied him for a drawn-out moment.
He couldn’t read her, didn’t know what she thought. Then again, she’d lived under Shadi’s roof. Given the five minutes he’d spent with the man, Philip didn’t blame her for keeping her emotions closed up tight. He understood that all too well.
The birds called out again, echoing over the wind as his crew remembered themselves and their duties. Philip didn’t know what Harry was doing (hopefully moving the crew away from this conversation), but he kept all his attention on Miss Braithwaite and her pretty brown eyes.
“Before you accept, would you like to ask me anything?”
Her gaze slid to her companions, both of whom watched her with concern. Philip didn’t look over his shoulder—he knew Shadi had already stood up and was glaring at them. The wool merchant’s laughter echoed over the day and sent a chill down his spine. Philip shifted until Miss Braithwaite’s gaze met his again. Whatever dowry her uncle demanded, it’d be worth it to see the fear on her face disappear.
The bastard had abused her, and Philip fully believed Shadi would contract her to a man with the same tendencies. His cruelty shone through clearly in both his words and her reactions. Philip would bet he abused his wife and children, too. He had seen it far too often in the women and children who sought refuge on his family’s estate.
Granted, he’d never offered any of them marriage. But then, he’d never been in this particular position, either.
First time for everything.
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Author Biography
Regency Romance writer. Prefers the beach. Lover of tea, pizza, and all things Corgi. I update my newsletter every week with way too much research I'll never fit into a book: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/6ifz8xkjx9
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