Lu_Shui

[A Regency Era novel, #vengeance #weaktostrong #heiress #loveaftermarriage #noblefamily #dramatic #betrayal]

"Lady Blanchard," the Marquess of Canterbury announced, his voice carrying a hint of surprise as he swept off his cocked hat and handed it to the waiting butler. He then stepped into the drawing room, his eyes immediately falling upon her.
The cup of tea and a plate of pastries on the coffee table suggested that she had been waiting for his arrival for some time.
"What a surprise," he continued, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone. "Do you require anything from me?"
"Indeed, Your Grace," Maggie replied, her voice steady despite the weight of her proposition.
The Marquess's amusement vanished, replaced by a flicker of suspicion. He crossed his arms in a haughty manner, his posture demanding an explanation. "And what might that be?" he inquired, his voice laced with a cool formality.
"I would like to propose," Maggie began, meeting his gaze directly, "a marriage alliance between us."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Upon her father's untimely demise, Lady Marguerite “Maggie” Delaney Antoine Blanchard was betrayed by the man he loved, Nicholas Cunningham, and the only other relative she trusted, Nicholas' father, Lloyd Cunningham.
She found much-needed support in the Marquess of Canterbury, Percival Clement Duane Locksworth, whom she did not care for due to the unfortunate nature of their first meeting, but who turned out to be the lifeline she needed to exact his revenge and regain the Countess of Huntington title.
When Maggie offered the Marquess a beneficial deal in exchange for his hand in marriage, would the not-so-charming gentleman say yes?
And if he did, would Maggie be able to win the claim for the Earldom of Huntington and retain it within the Blanchard family's ownership? Or would she crumble under the storm of the Marquess's gaze, his presence a churning sea threatening to engulf her whole?

Marguerite's Pledge for Redemption

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the exhibition hall as visitors streamed through the entrance. Fortunately, they were spared the disastrous state that prevailed when Maggie and her entourage arrived.

Instead, a unique and captivating spectacle unfolded before their eyes.There were no static paintings adorning the walls, no sculptures frozen in time. In their place, a vibrant energy pulsed through the room.

Painters, brushes poised and palettes ablaze with color, sat before their easels, each stroke a deliberate dance on the canvas.

The rhythmic scrape of sculptors' tools against stone echoed through the hall, as they brought formless blocks to life with each meticulous chip.

Chapter 48 - The Truth of Her Origin (1)