A GEORGIAN HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Roxton Family Saga Book 5: Henri-Antoine and Lisa’s Happily Ever After
London, 1786. Lord Henri-Antoine has returned from the Grand Tour to a life of privilege and excess. A vast inheritance allows him every indulgence, free from responsibility. Yet, Henri-Antoine maintains a well-ordered existence, going to great lengths to conceal an affliction few understand and many fear.
Miss Lisa Crisp is a penniless orphan who relies on the charity of relatives to keep her from the poorhouse. Intelligent and unflappable, Lisa will not allow poverty to define her. She leads a useful life working among the sick poor.
Under startling circumstances, Henri-Antoine and Lisa meet. There is instant attraction. When they find themselves attending the same wedding in the country, Henri-Antoine offers Lisa a scandalous proposition, one she should refuse but yearns to accept. Following her heart could ruin them both.
A standalone romantic adventure set against the backdrop of Treat, ancestral home of the dukes of Roxton. SATYR’S SON will delight fans of the series with cameos by many beloved characters, while new readers will discover the myriad pleasures and glittering aristocratic world of the Roxton family through the fresh eyes of newcomer Lisa Crisp. SATYR’S SON is a Cinderella story with a heartwarming Happily Ever After.
Coming Audiobook to be performed by Alex Wyndham
Character-driven romantic adventure
Non explicit (mild sensuality)
Story length 144,000 words
Featured Reviews & Accolades
Subtle lessons in the art of love and hope, opening readers’ hearts to the mystery of attraction and how true love can transform one’s destiny. Satyr’s Son features a great plot, fast-paced and intricately woven with surprises. The setting has great historical references, well-imagined and written with mastery. The glowing moments of tenderness were the best part of this novel for me and I loved the crisp and powerful writing. This one is a masterpiece, a delightful read in its genre.
Divine Zape, advance review for Readers’ Favorite
Just when you couldn’t imagine Lucinda Brant upstaging her previous, wondrous tales that star the Roxton family and friends, out comes Satyr’s Son, one of the best Cinderella stories ever. Needless to say we meet up with members of the Roxton group from previous stories. All books in this series easily stand alone and Lucinda makes sure we understand the entwined relationships of all these characters. For those fortunate to read all the Roxton tales it will be like a homecoming of sorts. Reading and reviewing Satyr’s Son was an absolute joy. Any fan of historical romance just has to read this book and catch up on the Roxton family saga. Totally addictive and marvelous.
★★★★★ REVIEWER TOP PICK
SWurman, advance review for Night Owl Reviews
The Highly Acclaimed Roxton Family Saga
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‘LISA CRISP, sir,” she stated, and came away from the desk to finally find her manners and bob a curtsy, gaze respectfully lowered to the embroidered front of his waistcoat.
“I know your name, Miss Crisp. I asked for your age.”
This brought her eyes up to his face, puzzled. “Why would you want to know my age, sir?”
He was taken aback she would question him. “Why would you not want to tell me?”
“I’ve no particular reason for withholding it from you. It’s just—It’s a rather mundane question—coming from you.”
“Mundane? Coming from me? What question were you expecting me to ask?”
She smiled at his frown, and relaxed a little. Gone was the fixed stare, replaced by a look of puzzlement which made him appear far more approachable.
“I’d no particular question in mind,” she responded, and unable to stop herself because she had flustered him, added teasingly, “Perhaps you’ll think of one before you leave?”
“Think of one…?”
Her directness disconcerted him. He had wanted this interview to be short. He had gone to considerable trouble to find her with the limited information Jack had given him, and now he wished to thank her for her help in his hour of need, and be on his way. But the short speech of thanks that was on the tip of his tongue vanished like a popped soap bubble the moment he entered the room and saw her standing by the desk. Instead, he had asked her for her age. Why in God’s name? And she had the impertinence not to tell him. He needed to regain the initiative at once, before she startled him again. He should not have been surprised when she again overthrew his intent, but he was.
“Miss Crisp, I had hoped to conduct this conversation in my carriage, so as not to attract any undue attention to either of us.”
“But that must be an impossible task for you, surely?”
Lisa blinked at him and such was her surprise that she took a step closer, wondering if he was being ironic. She had to ask the question.
“Are you funning with me, sir?”
Now he was not only disconcerted but uncomfortable. He set his jaw and the stare returned.
“I assure you, Miss Crisp, that I do not fun—with anyone.”
“Do you not? Not at all?”
Irritated, he wondered if she were simple. But one look in her blue eyes and he knew she was sincere in her incredulity. He did not know whether to be annoyed or flattered.
“Tell me, Miss Crisp,” he purred. “Why would I find it an impossible task not to attract attention?”
Lisa gulped. “You want me to tell you?”
“Very well. If I must. But I do not doubt for a moment you know the answer.”
“I do not. And I hope your answer, unlike my question, will not be mundane.”
Lisa’s blue eyes sparked and she smiled.
“Well?” he demanded when she did not give him an immediate response.
“Oh! So you truly do want me to tell you?”
When his gaze shot to the bare ceiling and then back at her and he remained silent and expectant, she lost her smile and felt the heat rise in her throat. There was nothing for it. She would have to tell him.
“Because you are exceedingly handsome, so it stands to reason you attract an audience wherever you go.”
The silence stretched between them and then he nodded gravely. The only sign that he was in anyway embarrassed by her honest appraisal was the sudden color in his lean cheeks.
“So I am told. But I come from a family of exceptional beauty. I am its thorn.”
Lisa gasped and then giggled, thinking his response absurd. Not that she disbelieved him, she just did not believe he could be a thorn in any family. She quickly put a hand to her mouth for her impolite response, but could not stop her shoulders from shaking.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Crisp,” he drawled, affronted. “I was being perfectly candid.”
Lisa nodded, quickly wiped her moist eyes dry and pressed her lips together before taking a breath and saying with a tremble, “I meant no disrespect, sir. It’s just that you are no thorn, however beautiful the rest of your family members.”
He threw up a gloved hand in dismissal of her frank appraisal.
“You might think so. No doubt in these heady environs, anyone with two working eyes and a straight back is considered a rose worthy of oils.”
Lisa lost her smile, and her blue eyes clouded, all humor extinguished at his jibe. Perhaps he had meant it as a throwaway comment to hide his embarrassment at being complimented for his good looks. Regardless, that gave him no excuse to be so disparaging of others, and his barb stung.
“Perhaps I was wrong,” she said quietly but firmly. “Perhaps you are a thorn. True beauty does not wear a mask. It shines bright from the heart—and regardless of where that heart resides on the compass point.” She bobbed a curtsy. “I am glad to see you looking so well after your recent seizure, sir. Now you must excuse me. I am wanted elsewhere.”