Anything but a typical aristocrat, young Baroness Marie-Louise is not afraid to roll up her sleeves and get to work, especially when it comes to saving her ancestral estate. Determined to shake loose the shackles of propriety and gain the warm family life her upbringing denied her, she has vowed to marry a man of lower rank. Blue-bloods need not apply.
But when she is forced to turn to a childhood friend for assistance, the handsome, debonair count may prove a temptation impossible to resist. Marie-Louise soon finds herself caught between the comfort of a middle-class doctor and the passion of a nobleman, with the future of her childhood home at stake.
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She enjoys the outdoors, her children and ten grandchildren, and keeps an active social calendar.
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Excerpt
The following is the scene where
Marie-Louise first meets the young count:
The next day didn’t bring the
desired results. When Marie-Louise visited the Schmidt & Roth insurance
company about her tuition payments, she was informed that Mr. Roth was out of
town and not expected to be back until the following week, and no one else in
the office was familiar with the case.
That seemed very odd to
Marie-Louise. She was sure that there must be a file in the office somewhere
with her information. If the tuition won’t be paid before the deadline, her
classes will be dropped. She was especially eager to take the Art History class
which always filled up quickly according to the professor.
After receiving the letter from
the director’s office that her registration was on hold because of the unpaid
tuition, she’d inquired at the Registration Department to find out that the
Schmidt & Roth Insurance Company had been sent not one, but three
reminders, but no reply had been received. And that was the reason why she had
to return to Hohenstein to sort things out.
She tapped her foot while
concentrating on her next move. She didn’t want to wait until Mr. Roth
returned. She had nothing to do, no phonograph, and nobody to talk to except
her aunt, and that wasn’t a viable option.
She’d go to the Wolfburg Bank
and talk with Onkel Georg—Count Woflburg to be precise—about her situation. As
the trustee and executor of her father’s will, he’d help her understand the
legalities of the trust and tell her if there was anything she could do to
reverse Hohenstein’s decline.
On her way to the Wolfburg Bank,
Marie-Louise still fumed when she remembered her aunt’s admonition to conduct
herself with the utmost decorum. She was not a little girl anymore who needed
to be taught and guided, especially not with a wagging finger. Of course she
knew that Count Wolfburg expected her to conduct herself appropriate to her
station in life, and Tante Ambrosia didn’t have to remind her with her favorite
phrase noblesse oblige. Marie-Louise rolled her eyes and
mimicked her aunt. And don’t forget to
thank the count for his time. As if I was an ungrateful chit!
A secretary ushered Marie-Louise
into a small conference room at the Wolfburg Bank. “Please have a seat,
Baroness. Count Wolfburg will meet with you presently.”
Marie-Louise
looked around. The room’s furnishings exuded warmth and tranquility. A wall unit with carved detail along the top
covered the north wall, and on one of the lower shelves were several trophies.
She marveled that the count still participated in such strenuous sports as
sailing, skiing, and water polo.
Count
Georg had been a frequent guest at Hohenstein whenever her parents were in
residence, and again later, when her father had returned to the castle with an
ailing heart. It was only natural for Marie-Louise to call him and the countess
uncle and aunt.
On
the shelf below the trophies, she noticed a picture frame and bent to look at
the photograph. Upon closer inspection, she found that it contained the
Knight's Code done in calligraphy, with the first letter of each stanza
artistically scrolled. Picking up the frame, she read:
THE KNIGHT'S CODE
Be always ready with your armor
on,
Except when you are taking your
rest at night.
Defend the poor,
Do nothing to hurt or offend.
Be prepared to fight in the
defense of your country.
At whatever you are working,
Try to win honor and a name for
honesty.
Never break your promise.
Maintain the honor of your
country with your life.
Rather die honest than live
shamelessly.
To perform the most laborious
and humble offices
With cheerfulness and grace;
And to do good unto others.
Somehow
these words exemplified his life. He had always been strict but fair, she
recalled. Maybe not always easy to live with since he expected much from
everybody, though nothing he wouldn't expect of himself.
Would he be as aloof as Tante Ambrosia? Her aunt hadn't changed. In
fact she had proved to be as stern as ever—no deviation from the standard rules
and traditions that kept nobility atop their antiquated pedestals.
Marie-Louise
looked at her watch and drew a deep breath. Where was Onkel Georg, and what was
taking him so long? She paced the floor. Eight paces toward the window. Turn.
Eight paces toward the wall. Turn. Each step seemed to chip away a fraction of
her confidence. She didn’t know what she’d do if the count couldn’t help her
with her problems.
Although she hadn't seen Onkel
Georg since her father's funeral, she could still remember him as being
particularly fond of her, calling her Snow White for her dark hair and delicate
complexion. He would understand and explain the situation with her father’s
trust.
She
became impatient. Eight minutes already. Of course, he hadn’t known that she
would come calling today and probably had every minute of the day planned.
The opening of the heavy
leather-padded door interrupted her thoughts. Onkel Georg. At last.
Marie-Louise turned to greet him with her most charming smile.
With her hands outstretched, she
took a few steps forward, only to stop short. Smile disappearing, her hands
dropped to her sides. She stared at the stranger.
Tall
and lean, he appeared powerful with broad shoulders and a natural grace of
movement. His thick, wavy hair looked like weathered copper, parted and
feathered back at the temples. Hair of that color normally demanded a pale
complexion studded with freckles, but neither was the case here. His smooth
skin looked nicely tanned, telling of many hours spent outdoors, and his
business suit enhanced his athletic physique, which stood in stark contrast to
his professional appearance.
He certainly was the
best-looking man she had seen in a long time, but who was he?
He
inclined his head and gave a little smile. Pointing to the couch, he invited
her to have a seat before he sat on the couch perpendicular to hers.
When
he gave her an encouraging smile, she asked in a cool a voice, "Sir, would
you please inform Count Wolfburg that
Baroness von Hohenstein is waiting?"
At
that moment, the secretary stuck her head around the door. “Please excuse me,
but Herr Maier is in the office and wants to speak with you.”
Two creases appeared above the
bridge of his nose. “I believe I said that I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“I’m sorry, but Herr Maier said
that he had important news for you.”
The young man turned to Marie-Louise and said,
“Please excuse the interruption,” before he stood up and followed his
secretary.
His
voice had sounded clipped and business-like, and Marie-Louise shuddered at the
thought of having him for an opponent. Although his generous mouth and the fine
lines around his eyes spoke of warmth and humor, his voice attested to a
toughness she'd rather not experience. She resolved to speak only with Onkel
Georg and not with this stranger, although he obviously held a position of
considerable influence and seemed determined to find out why she had come to
see the count.
Her
business with the count was of a personal nature and not fit for anyone else's
ears. Should Onkel Georg be unavailable, she would have to come back another
time, although she had so hoped to see him today.
The
young man returned presently. “Sorry for the interruption.” He smiled while his
eyes rested on her face.
Marie-Louise
stiffened, sat bolt upright, and put as much hauteur and disdain into her
expression as she possibly could. He, on the other hand, seemingly unperturbed,
watched her reaction with one arm resting on the back of the settee.
Enough
delaying. Clearing her throat, she looked straight at the man. "Are you in
the count's confidence?"
A
low chuckle emerged from deep down his throat. "Yes, I definitely
am."
"You
are his right hand, I presume?"
He
tilted his head to one side and wrinkled his brow as if to consider her
question. "Yes, I think so."
She
eyed him with cold defiance. “Why did Count Wolfburg send you to talk to me? Is
he unavailable?”
The
young man leaned forward as his smile intensified and little devils danced in
his eyes. "I guess you don't remember me, Snow White."
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