Miranda Jarrett
“A swift, rollicking romance….Deliciously entertaining!”
—Bestselling author Mary Jo Putney on Captain’s Bride
“A vibrant, passionate story.”
—Bestselling author Jo Beverley on The Very Daring Duchess
Lyn Stone
“Stone has an apt hand with dialogue and creates characters with a refreshing naturalness.”
—Publishers Weekly
“…laced with lovable characters, witty dialogue, humor and poignancy, this is a tale to savor.”
—Romantic Times on The Highland Wife
Anne Gracie
“Ms. Gracie has a knack for delving into people’s souls and, at the same time, tickling our funny bone.”
—Rendezvous
“Welcome Anne Gracie to the ranks of excellent romance writers…I want more stories by this extremely talented author.”
—The Romance Reader
GIFTS OF THE SEASON
Harlequin Historical #631
#632 RAFFERTY’S BRIDE
Mary Burton
#633 BECKETT’S BIRTHRIGHT
Bronwyn Williams
#634 THE DUMONT BRIDE
Terri Brisbin
MIRANDA JARRETT
considers herself sublimely fortunate to have a career that combines history and happy endings, even if it’s one that’s also made her family far too regular patrons of the local pizzeria. Miranda is the author of twenty-seven historical romances, has won numerous awards for her writing and has been a three-time Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist for best short historical romance. She loves to hear from readers at P.O. Box 1102, Paoli, PA 19301-1145, or MJarrett21@aol.com. For the latest news, please visit her Web site at www.Mirandajarrett.com.
LYN STONE
A painter of historical events, Lyn finally decided to write about them. An avid reader, she admits, “At thirteen I fell in love with Bronte’s Heathcliff and became Catherine. The next year I fell for Rhett and became Scarlett. Then I fell for the hero I’d known most of my life and finally became myself.” After living for four years in Europe, Lyn and her husband, Allen, settled into a log house in north Alabama that is crammed to the rafters with antiques, artifacts and the stuff of future tales.
ANNE GRACIE
was born in Australia, but spent her childhood on the move, living in different parts of Australia, Scotland, Malaysia and Greece. Her days, when not in school, were spent outside with animals and her evenings with her nose in a book—they didn’t have TV. She writes in a small room lined with books surrounded by teetering piles of paper. Her first book, Gallant Waif, was a RITA® Award finalist for best first book. Her second, Tallie’s Knight, has been short-listed for the Australian Romantic Book of the Year. Anne lives in Melbourne. She has a Web site, www.annegracie.com, and loves to hear from readers.
Gifts of the Season
A Gift Most Rare
Miranda Jarrett
Christmas Charade
Lyn Stone
The Virtuous Widow
Anne Gracie
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A Gift Most Rare A Gift Most Rare Miranda Jarrett
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Christmas Charade
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
The Virtuous Widow
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
A Gift Most Rare
Miranda Jarrett
Dear Reader,
Christmas has always been a time of traditions. Whether as old as a medieval carol or as new as Charlie Brown’s holiday cartoon, traditions help turn each year into the next memory, to be treasured and recalled long after the decorations are put away. Christmas traditions travel well, too, regardless of how many miles and oceans they must cross. No matter how limited the space for belongings and baggage on a journey might be, there is always room to carry the traditions for this special season: Santa Lucia’s candlelit wreath for a daughter from Sweden, a French grand-mère’s recipe for Bûche de Noël, a Russian uncle’s favorite holiday toast, the secret of perfectly folded origami cranes for good luck from a Japanese cousin, or simply Mom’s candy-cane Christmas cookies to help a homesick college freshman survive his first final exams.
For Sara and Revell in “A Gift Most Rare,” traditions are not only a way of celebrating the holiday, but also their shared past. Like other English expatriates living in India two hundred years ago, they would have been sure to drink Christmas wassail and sing their carols, even though it was beneath the hot Calcutta sun. But new traditions travel back to England with them, and when they decorate for the holiday, there are pasteboard elephants and tigers mixed in with the holly boughs in a joyful union—just like the love that Sara and Revell find together.
A merry holiday to you and your families, and a new year full of love, peace and joy!
For Ellen
My bleacher-and-bagel buddy,
who, like every good Hockey Mom, knows that
Christmas (at least the week after) is for Tournaments
Your company & friendship are a treasure
Merry Christmas!
Ladysmith Manor, Sussex
December, 1801
Six years had passed since she’d seen him last, yet with a lurch to her heart, she realized she’d know him anywhere.
With her hands primly clasped to help mask their trembling, Sara Blake leaned closer to the tall window, her breath lightly frosting the glass as she gazed down at the gentleman in black climbing down from his carriage to the snow-dusted drive. She remembered when he’d not been so sober and somber, another Christmas when he’d worn a peacock-blue coat that had made his eyes even brighter as they’d laughed together, he the handsomest man in the governor general’s ballroom.
Six years. How she’d loved and trusted him then, with all the fervency that her seventeen-year-old heart could offer! He wore his dark hair cropped shorter now, another change to follow the fashion. But as the wind ruffled it across his brow, she remembered how soft those curls had been to touch, how she’d relished the silky feel of them beneath her fingers when he’d bent to kiss her.
“You do know who that is, don’t you, Miss Blake?” asked Clarissa Fordyce with all the relish of her much-indulged eight-year-old self. “That’s the gentleman that Mama didn’t wish us to invite here for the holiday, until Albert insisted.”
“Young gentlemen like your brother often have friends of which their mothers do not quite approve,” said Sara, striving to keep her voice properly objective, the way a good governess’s should always be, even as the old fears and questions were making her palms damp and her heart race. “Learning to make wise choices in companions is not always an easy skill to acquire.”
“This one wasn’t wise at all,” declared Clarissa soundly. With fingers sticky from marzipan, she pressed her plump hands to the glass, eagerly studying the man who was certain to be the most interesting among her mother’s guests this week. “Albert says everyone calls him the Sapphire Lord, and that he was the wickedest devil in all of India!”
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