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The Merchant's Bride

[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? ___________ EXCERPT ____________ "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. ====== 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 COVER ART BELONGS TO ME. DO NOT STEAL! ínstαgrαm hαndlє: @nαncчjímσffícíαl fαcєвσσk @ Nαncєє Jímí fα¢євσσк ραgє @nancy writes

Nancy_Jim · História
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207 Chs

Stranger

"Then maybe you need help, except you are too pompous to ask nicely," said Mrs. Phellipe, as the wrinkle lines on her lips, thinned at that moment. "But the issue is not that you cannot be helped. The issue is that you are still unsure of what you want to do."

Louisa sighed, "What I want to do is accept my place and go back home."

"What place if I may ask?" Mrs. Phellipe's eyes met Louisa's.

"Accept that I lost, and they won."

"Hazel—"

"No. Look." Louisa stood up, raising her voice. "I am tired of going round in circles over this conversation. Can we just drop this talk? I want to enjoy my last season in this house and this," she flicked her fingers from herself to the housekeeper and back in a quick flex, "is not helping."

Mrs. Phellipe parted her lips to speak but got slowed by the creak of the bedroom door. Louisa looked past her shoulder and began strutting hesitantly towards the doorway.