Title The Major’s Lady: A Lady’s Pirate Companion Story
Author C.K. Mackenzie
Genre Regency Romance
Book Blurb
Can two people who lost almost everything find a chance at happiness?
Mélina Dos Santos thought she lost everything when the French invaded Portugal. Everything but her beloved son and a driving desire for vengeance. Gifted with the chance to keep her child safe and mete out that revenge on the French, she to return to Portugal. Tasked with discovering a secret French supply line, she soon realizes returning was a terrible mistake.
Her home was no longer in the country of her birth.
Major Hudson Seyler, the Earl of Somerton, understood loss. As the third son in a close-knit family, he never thought he’d inherit and had no real desire to. Fate had other plans. When disease kills his family, his intended, and half the village, Hudson turns his back on everything he once cared about. Agreeing to discover the French supply lines moving through southern Spain, he hadn’t anticipated his attraction to Mélina.
Love wasn’t what either of them wanted. But maybe it was what they both needed.
Spying on the French along the hills of Portugal wasn’t the ideal location for a romance. It was all too easy to fall for the lovely, passionate Mélina. She wasn’t looking for love, but is drawn to Hudson’s determination and passion.
When Mélina is captured by the French contingent, Hudson will do everything in his power to rescue her.
Excerpt
Mélina Dos Santos looked out over the bow of the longboat as several seamen rowed them ashore. Nestled among the stars, only a crescent moon brightened the winter sky. It was much cooler than she’d expected; the winter wind chilled her straight to the bone.
Or perhaps the chill settling around her had more to do with her return.
That chill turned to icy dread as she watched the Portuguese coast move closer and closer. Her home, or what was once her home, one she hadn’t thought she’d ever see again. Despite the darkness, Mélina knew exactly where they were. The pull of the current as they neared shore, the scent of the wind. Closing her eyes, for one moment, she allowed herself the memory and imagined the tunnels she and Théo wandered through during their marriage.
She watched the shore pull closer, feeling as if lifetimes had passed since then.
“Dama?” The word startled her.
Pedro, a villager who’d escaped with them when they fled Carvalho, held out his hand. She hadn’t realized they’d landed. The memories lingered, just out of sight, like a specter floating in the wind. Accepting Pedro’s hand with a grateful smile, she focused on her mission, the sole reason they’d returned.
Steadied, she stepped out of the small boat and into the warm waters of the Atlantic. Skirts held high, she ignored the ghosts of the past and waded ashore. Carvalho lay a good hundred or so miles from their intended destination. They planned on landing farther south, near the Spanish border.
Mélina had easily convinced Captain Jack Monroe she needed to sail here first. The owner of The Persephone was her brother-in-law, and both captain and crew honored that.
Much to the annoyance of Major Hudson Seyler, Seventh Earl of Somerton.
“Where are you going?”
“You didn’t have to come,” Mélina reminded him, her lips curling into a knowing smile.
Something about the major’s stiffness made her all too willing to tease him. Doing so helped keep the memories at bay. It also reminded her of the woman she used to be. The one who teased and laughed and enjoyed life. She missed that woman.
She dropped her skirts the moment she cleared the ocean and stepped onto the beach. Three men surrounded her. Two from her village. And Major Seyler, who had quite stringently insisted on being called by his rank rather than title.
“I’m tasked with keeping you safe, Mrs. Dos Santos.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled inside her, and Mélina turned into the wind, letting the scent of home wash over her. She smelled the oak trees the area was named after, the olive and cork trees. The distinct scent of the sea, where it met the rocky land. She’d mourned, for Théo and their life together, for the future and legacy she’d never be able to offer their son, Rodrigo. For what remained of their village.
Straightening, she turned her back on the memories and the ghosts that wandered this beach and met the major’s gaze. He sounded annoyed but looked intrigued. She knew he carried his own secrets, but he kept quiet about them, locking them tight behind a wall of rigid formality.
“Safety is an illusion, Major. I thought you knew that.” She turned for the tunnels that led from the beach into the villa’s basement.
“Better than most,” he agreed quietly. The words carried on the wind.
Head tilted, Mélina hesitated. She met his light green gaze, shadowed in the night. This was not the first time he’d said such things, muttered words she knew weren’t truly meant for her ears.
Mélina held his gaze another moment and hoped her nod conveyed her understanding, her sympathy. He knew all too well, and she was sorry for that. More teasing words danced on her tongue, but Mélina swallowed them down. They suddenly felt crass and unnecessary.
“Have you a particular item you’re looking for?”
“Item?” Mélina glanced at him in the waning moonlight and tried to ignore the thundering beat of her heart.
“Is that not why we’re here?” Seyler asked, the formality back in his voice.
Mélina much preferred the quiet agreement of a moment ago.
“I’m not sure why we’re here, Major,” she admitted gesturing slightly toward the tunnels. “The ghosts of the past, I suppose.”
No, she’d not set foot in the tunnels, where so many of her people had died. Instead, head held high, she gathered her skirts and walked toward the stone steps leading up to the villa. It wasn’t far from where they’d landed, but from here the villa loomed large and dark. Abandoned.
Beside her, Seyler silently kept pace. He didn’t dress like a major or an earl, but like one of the sailors. Drab, worn trousers and an equally drab coat, frayed at the hems. Whoever had originally worn his shirt was far smaller than the broad-shouldered major.
Mélina ignored the way the moonlight glinted off his light hair, the way his lips tugged down into a frown. Curling her fingers tighter into her skirts, she most definitely did not reach out and brush the curly blonde hair that brushed his collar. The square jaw, more often clenched than not, lay at odds with his regal nose. His light green eyes reflected the moonlight and hid his secrets.
She found him most handsome. When he wasn’t frowning at her.
Unfortunately, he frowned at her quite often.
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Author Biography
Hello! I’m so glad you’re here. I’m a Regency Romance author, dog lover, French fry connoisseur, and explorer of new and interesting teas. I recently lost my beloved corgi after almost 14 years together and am now exploring becoming a foster dog mom.
But let’s talk books!
I’m a Regency Romance author with a taste for a hint of intrigue and mystery. I have several series planned and can’t wait to share them with you! As happens with most things in my life, once I start a story the secondary characters demanded attention. So in addition to the main Legacy stories (4 families, 4-5 siblings each) I also have shorter stories of those side characters.
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