Nancy_Jim

[ON HIATUS!!!!]

What are the chances that a selfish, spoiled and arrogant daughter of a noble man in the little town of Griffinwald would fall head over heels in love with a foreigner, an affluent merchant who bathes in the very waters of pride, arrogance and bloated ego?

 What are the odds that the universe would plan their meet in the most dramatic way; a missing handkerchief flying off with the wind; Scared horses whinning loudly in the distance, a banging thunderstorm is the grand plan.

 What if this merchant has travelled this far to seek out a certain girl who should become his bride, only to land his heart in another woman's bosoms? 

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EXCERPT
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"The housekeeper is not," said she. "And I am not dumb enough as you think. I can figure my way out of here."


"You can?"


"Yes, I can."


"Hm." Rochester travelled his hand up to his lips. Bussing his mouth sensually with his thumb, he felt his lips divide. Hoping it would have the desired effect on the girl, he said, "I am still confused. Why haven't you left here already? Is there perhaps something else you would need me to do for you? Want to warm my bed perhaps?"


"You are disgusting, sir! And I hate you!" Louisa yelled, and in a couple of sprints, she was outside his chamber, shutting the door with a slam.


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PS. This book is set in thesame fantasy world as my other book, "The Dark Lord's Maiden." You could add up the other book to binge read up to the latest chapters to understand the personality of these characters. But then again this book can also be read as a stand-alone, apart from TDLM.

NOTE BELOW!

The first chapter has been renamed “Prologue [Silver blue] ” and the former content has been changed. Please clear cache or re-add to Library if you cannot access it.

Cheers! And happy reading

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ínstαgrαm hαndlє: @nαncчjímσffícíαl
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The Merchant's Bride

Important Notice: Chapters 52 & 53 have undergone heavy editing. Kindly refresh by clearing cache or re-adding the book to Library. Happy reading!


Twenty minutes later, donning a plush pink dress; cotton-make, Louisa dismounted the split staircase into the dining hall. A pair of hawkish eyes followed her trail as she walked up to the empty chairs on that side.


"I can see that my son has not particularly informed you of the rules about dining at the appropriate hour in this house."


Louisa, head bent, had sparsely succeeded in glueing her stiff bottom to the soft component of the leather chair when the woman's thick voice punched the insides of her ears.


"I," Louisa swallowed, "did not think that my dress would encounter a problem on my way down." 


"And," Madam Eloise was sipping something from her cup, some hard content that spoiled the air with a pungent scent. "That should also explain why you disobeyed my opinion of a dress code for supper?"


Ridicule l