A British Courtesan in America
She is running from her past life as London’s most prized mistress.
When beautiful Fancy Booker’s last benefactor leaves her his fortune, she sails for the new country of America. Giving herself the name Liberty Wexford, she hopes to set a new course for her life—alone. The last thing she needs is another man in her life.
He has no time for a woman, since the Revolutionary War is a jealous mistress.
Hawk Gentry has two guiding principles. First, as a Son of Liberty, he must be cautious of others, especially anyone British. Second, as a child, he and his Passamaquoddy Indian mother were left alone while his French father trapped or fought wars. He vows never to do the same to any woman he loves, and the family they may have.
Will the war unite or divide them?
When Liberty and Hawk run into each other on the unruly streets of Boston, they begin a tentative friendship. Even though neither wants romance, the sparks fly between them from the moment they meet.
As their relationship blossoms, their pasts rise up to haunt them. Will Liberty and Hawk overcome the obstacles that seem certain to force them apart? With the Revolutionary War beginning, can love hold the hearts of a Hawk and A BRITISH COURTESAN IN AMERICA?
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Anjanette’s body finally unclenched after six weeks aboard ship. She took a long, cleansing breath as the last of the first-class passengers departed the ship. It would soon be her turn to leave. She’d kept a low profile during the entire voyage and successfully traversed the Atlantic without her identity being uncovered. Her dresses, though well made, were modest and serviceable. She kept her hair in a chignon with no adornments. If anything, she had become a chameleon, imitating the other second-class passengers to better blend in.
She gathered her possessions and placed them back into her satchel. She fingered her favorite necklace, the last piece of jewelry her final benefactor, Atticus Wexford, had given her.
“Thank you, darling, for giving me the gift of my freedom.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath. Atticus had given her far more than a necklace. He had given her the ability to reset her life. To begin anew. They’d been making plans to leave England behind, just as soon as he completed his final mission for the government. Neither ever imagined his final mission would be his last, ever. Fortunately, he had revised his will, leaving her his entire fortune. She wiped her final tears away.
She packed away the necklace along with her old identity. Anjanette Shelby, the most coveted courtesan in all of London, was no more. Liberty Wexford was about to disembark and live out the rest of her days in colonial America. Suddenly, the cabin was too confining, the ship was too small. She needed to breathe in the free air of America.
The ship steward stood next to the ramp, ticking the names of the passengers off the manifest. He glanced at her and smiled. “Miss Shelby, I didn’t see much of you during the voyage. Did you fare well, or were you suffering from seasickness?”
She returned his smile. This steward had been kind to her during her trip. “Some, at the beginning of the voyage, but I had a lot of reading to do. Thank you for asking, James.”
“Well, you’re free to go. Enjoy your stay in Boston, Miss Shelby.”
Free to go.
She glanced at the steward. “Can you recommend some accommodations?”
“Yes, there’s a really nice hotel, The Hartford, just up the street a few blocks.” He motioned to the cobblestoned street leading away from the busy dock. “I can arrange to have your trunks delivered there.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” This young man had done his best to assure she had a good trip. She poked her fingers into her reticule and brought forth some bills, which she handed to him. His smile grew even larger.
He called after her. “Goodbye, Miss Shelby.”
She glanced back at him and waved as she whispered, “It’s no longer Miss Shelby. I’m Liberty Wexford now.”
Her steps were light as she touched the cobblestones, although it took her a few minutes to adjust to being on land again. Were it not for the spectacle she would cause, she’d fall to her knees and kiss the street. Even though the cobblestoned streets and the buildings hugging the sides of the road gave the appearance of any of a number of cities in England, this was America. She had a clean slate here. She straightened her hat, shifted her bag from one hand to the other, and set off for the hotel the steward had suggested. After she found lodging, she’d find a job. Boston should look out. Libby Wexford just landed.