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    When I Fall In Love: Maitland Maidens, #5
    When I Fall In Love: Maitland Maidens, #5
    When I Fall In Love: Maitland Maidens, #5
    Ebook98 pages2 hours

    When I Fall In Love: Maitland Maidens, #5

    By Cora Lee

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    About this ebook

    Childhood friends reunite in their mutual struggle against their financial burdens. What magic might they find together under the Harvest Moon?

     

    Ever since Kit Mathison took control of the modest estate he inherited, he's had nothing but setbacks. When the roof of his house caves in and makes the place unlivable, he's frustrated but not surprised. How much will this disaster cost? Where will he stay while repairs are made?

     

    Sylvie Devereaux has remained in her childhood home to help her aging grandparents with their farm, only to realize they need as much care as the crops and livestock. But while love and laughter are prominent in their home, money is not. And the never-ending rain is drowning their wheat along with any hope they have for financial recovery.

     

    When Kit returns Sylvie's wayward goose, they re-ignite the friendship they'd kindled as adolescents and put a plan into action to relieve each others' burdens: Kit will board with the Devereaux family while his home is repaired, providing money and labor in exchange for their hospitality. But when Kit proposes a marriage of convenience to make the arrangement permanent, Sylvie balks. She has always wanted to marry for love, and they don't love each other...do they?

     

    This short (1-2 hour read) novel is a sweet, kisses-only/closed door Regency romance with a happily ever after, no cliffhangers, and is part of a series that can be read in any order.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMore Than Words Press
    Release dateJul 10, 2024
    ISBN9781944477240
    When I Fall In Love: Maitland Maidens, #5
    Author

    Cora Lee

    Cora Lee is a National Bestselling author of Regency romance. She went on a twelve year expedition through the blackboard jungle as a high school math teacher before publishing Save the Last Dance for Me, the first book in the Maitland Maidens series. She then followed it up with six other novels and novellas ranging from sweet and traditional to spicy and suspenseful. When she’s not walking Rotten Row at the fashionable hour or attending the entertainments of the Season, you might find her participating in Regency Fiction Writers events, wading through her towering TBR pile, or eagerly awaiting the next Marvel movie release. If you’d like to find out more about Cora or her books you can sign up for her newsletter, or connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, Bookbub, or Goodreads.

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      Book preview

      When I Fall In Love - Cora Lee

      WHEN I FALL IN LOVE

      by Cora Lee

      Copyright © 2023 by Cora Lee

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

      No part of this book was created with the use of AI. It is was produced through the hard work and creativity of the author, editor, and cover designer.

      Editing by Jude Simms.

      Cover by Erin Dameron-Hill at EDH Professionals.

      ISBN 978-1-944477-24-0

      Published in the United States by More Than Words Press

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Excerpt: Save the Last Dance for Me

      Other Books by Cora Lee

      About the Author

      Chapter 1

      Kent, August 1816

      Sylvie Devereaux sat in her usual place on the brown sofa, lightly rubbing the worn spot on the arm. Her grandparents occupied the wooden chairs on either side of the fireplace, where a small fire burned to try to combat the unusual chill. The low, red light of the evening sun filtering through the windows wasn’t quite bright enough to see by anymore, so Sylvie lit the oil lamp on the table beside her, hoping to get some mending done before she went to bed.

      Her fingers lingered on the lamp a moment, the smooth metal cool to the touch for a few moments before it began to warm. This particular lamp had been a rather costly wedding gift to her grandparents from both their families, the result of a numerous relatives pooling what they could spare to purchase something truly beautiful...and useful. Sylvie’s grandparents had brought it with them when they emigrated from France, a symbol of the family they left behind and the hope they cherished for their future.

      Was this the future they had envisioned?

      How does the field look, Grandpère?

      It was a topic they had discussed at least once each day during the growing season, usually in this fashion around the fireplace or while they ate supper, for as long as Sylvie could remember. Grandpère would inevitably talk about the height of the wheat, the color and strength of the stalks, or a myriad of other tiny but important details that signaled the health of their crop.

      But this season had been different. This weather had been different.

      His silence stretched out so long that Sylvie put down her needle and looked up at her grandfather. His eyes had met his wife’s, his mouth turned down into a hard frown that didn’t ease when he finally answered.

      Not good, ma chérie. We may not have much of a crop this year.

      Not a surprise and yet wholly surprising all at the same time. Sylvie had been half-expecting this bit of news for the past several weeks now, but to hear her grandfather say it aloud was like a physical blow to her chest.

      Still too wet, her grandmother added, returning to her own sewing. The kitchen garden has been struggling all summer, too.

      Sylvie had noted the lack of production in the kitchen garden herself, trying to find enough produce to eat with each meal. There was never enough, and what was growing was undersized and slow to ripen.

      Grandpère nodded. And too cold. Wheat doesn’t like a great deal of heat, but it needs some warmth.

      And sun. Sylvie pressed her lips together, recalling the abnormally high number of dark, rainy days they’d had this year. Even this day they’d only seen a bit of sun as it set, and that was more than most. Do you think we’ll be able to pay rent this quarter?

      The fire gave a loud pop and sent out a plume of thick smoke as he sighed heavily. For the first time since you were a little girl, I don’t know. If we get enough sun in the next few weeks, there may be something to harvest. But if the rain keeps falling…

      He didn’t have to finish his sentence. If the rain kept falling, any wheat that had managed to grow in their field despite the conditions would rot at the root and there would be no harvest. Sylvie also didn’t need to ask if he’d thought of borrowing money—her parents might have a little to spare, but likely not enough to cover rent for the farm. And they were in France with no way to send money or to return to England themselves. A bank loan might be a possibility, but without a crop to use as assurance…

      Try not to worry, Grandmère said, turning in her chair to meet Sylvie’s gaze, her face partially cloaked in shadows. There is still time to figure something out.

      There was a measure of comfort in her words, but Sylvie was too practical to be swayed very much by them. If Grandpère said things were looking dismal, then there was reason to worry.

      There are always my animals.

      In addition to the three people and the wheat fields, the farm housed a flock of geese, a few goats, some laying hens, and a dairy cow, all of whom would need to be fed through the winter. They weren’t truly hers, but Sylvie had taken over caring for the farm’s livestock as an adolescent and had hand raised many of the goats and geese herself. As a result, Grandpère had taken to calling them hers.

      He raised a hand to object, but she held up her own to stop him. Not Moses, of course. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of sending her special pet, a goose that she’d raised from an abandoned egg, off to someone’s dinner table. But the others should fetch a good price. That is why we keep them, and if it means keeping our home…

      Grandmère sent her a sympathetic look, then sighed herself. Hopefully it won’t come to that.

      But if we need to, Sylvie continued, turning their alternatives over in her mind, it wouldn’t be that different from other years. We’ve sold animals before.

      Yes, when we run out of room for them, Grandpère answered gruffly. I will go to London and talk to his lordship myself before we sell off your entire collection.

      Sylvie was certain Grandpère wouldn’t even know what their landlord, the Marquess of Whitby, looked like, let alone find the wherewithal to go and speak to the man, but she kept that to herself. She also noted the red creeping into Grandpère’s cheeks that couldn’t all be attributed to the fire and turned the conversation to a new topic. "Perhaps I can take in some mending, then, or do some cooking for the neighbors. Mr. Mathison

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