Can a hero ever live up to his reputation? For seven years, Ceressa Quarles has secretly admired Latimer Kirkleigh. Latimer has spent those same seven years disappointing everyone he loves. When they reunite, she finds him jaded, arrogant... and still irresistible. He finds her disconcerting, headstrong... and beautiful. As responsibility and tragedy intertwine, Ceressa and Latimer are set upon a course that neither is prepared to travel. Forced to flee her English home, Ceressa accepts a marriage proposal from Latimer and finds herself living in a savage, colonial wilderness embroiled in rebellion. With their lives at risk and any chance at love hidden deep within their precarious marriage of convenience, Ceressa and Latimer battle for the stability of a new world and peace within their own hearts. Fire Dragon's Angel By Barbara Blythe Pelican Ventures, LLC Copyright © 2010 Barbara Brown Blythe All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-61116-051-2 CHAPTER 1 London — March 1676 "The problem, cherie, is that your father is determined to marry you off to some ghastly, gouty nobleman whom he deems safe and fatherly. How positively abhorrent." Had it not been the declaration of the flamboyant and outspoken Reva Kirkleigh, Ceressa Quarles would have been angered by the comment. As it was, she had to laugh at her godfather's sister, renowned for her uncontrollable tongue and opinions. It was also well known that Reva possessed an insatiable wanderlust, though somehow she'd managed to remain in London for nearly a month, a record to the best of Ceressa's knowledge. "Lady Kirkleigh, you know how protective Father is." The two walked arm in arm toward the glittering ballroom of Sir Geoffrey Kirkleigh's London residence, filled with the city's most fascinating and wealthiest citizens. Ceressa's godfather's celebrations were spectacular, the unexpected and exciting sure to happen. As they entered the lofty hall decorated with intricately woven tapestries, Reva opened her mouth to reply, but a hearty greeting issued by several members of a group prevented her from uttering so much as a word. As Lady Kirkleigh hugged and kissed them, Ceressa stood to the side, politely waiting while her eyes scanned those present. There was no other woman as exotic or as envied as Sir Geoffrey's sister. Ceressa wished she could be like Reva Kirkleigh — an independent woman happily unmarried who fearlessly sought adventure and travel. As it was, Ceressa was happiest at home with her books, writing poetry, teaching the servants' children, and doing the things a dutiful daughter did for parents who were absolutely adored. But was Reva right? Did her father really intend to marry her off to someone he considered solid and honorable and of an age greatly beyond the flush of youth? There had been talk between her parents of gentlemen suitable for marriage. Though they had never indicated they would pledge her to someone not of her choosing, Ceressa shuddered at the thought of wedding a gouty noble. Having turned a score and one three months ago, a restlessness teased the fringes of her consciousness. She diligently sought God's will and was certain that if God directed her path, she would know true contentment. Admittedly, such was proving more and more difficult. Ceressa banished her troubling thoughts by observing the audience, so captivated by Reva's animated conversation and natural élan. Backing away from the friends, Reva turned to Ceressa. "Cherie, do forgive me." She linked arms with Ceressa, and they resumed their journey to the ballroom. "I haven't seen them for years. When I'm in the city, they are in the country on holiday. Or they are in the city and I'm on the Continent — you know how it is." No, Ceressa thought enviously, I don't know how that is. They stepped within the ballroom, and though she'd been there countless times, a breathless wonder filled Ceressa. The walls painted blue and gold displayed many of the ancient tapestries that Sir Geoffrey collected. Beside them hung paintings, equally as aged and miraculously spared during the great fire years before. One wing of the mansion had burned but was now restored to its original grandeur. The furnishings were richly upholstered in dark blue brocade and at least a hundred years in age; the ornate backs gleamed from recent polishing. Three chandeliers hung suspended above, their shapes reminding Ceressa of intricate golden webs. "But enough talk of my affairs. It is you who concerns me." "There's no need to be concerned. I'm perfectly content." "Ummph!" Lady Kirkleigh snorted improperly as she stepped around a male guest whose unsteadiness told them he had stopped somewhere before arriving at the soirée and had a bit too much to drink. Sir Geoffrey never served spirits but did provide coffees, teas, and a delicious fruity punch that Ceressa loved. In fact, she was desirous of a cup at that very moment. "If you don't change," Reva continued, "you'll find yourself mar