The Marigold Chain PDF
Preview The Marigold Chain
It is 1666 - the year when people who take prophecy seriously believe that the world is going to end.
For Chloe Herveaux - twenty years old, half-French and practical - marriage to wild, unpredictable Alex Deveril offers escape from a home she hates. For Alex, it is a refuge of a different kind. But while the marriage remains in name only and both, for reasons of their own, agree to seek an annulment, other forces are gathering.
England is once again at war with the Dutch and Prince Rupert, now commanding the Royal Navy, suspects that sabotage is at work within the fleet. Instructed to find the arch-traitor, Alex enters a dark labyrinth of intrigue - where no life is safe and nothing is what it seems.
Chloe, meanwhile, navigates the malice and scandal of Charles 11's licentious Court and plots a course of her own aimed at financial independence. But as the surprising facets of Mr Deveril's personality are gradually revealed to her, the long-awaited annulment becomes a double-edged sword.
Absorbed in his search for a traitor, Alex spares little thought for his bride - until a hot June night on the Falcon Stairs when he and Chloe stand united by tragedy.
As the flames of the Great Fire sweep over London, Alex and Chloe face their ultimate test. Their world is at risk ... their choices may save it.
Extract from Chapter 4
Alex awoke to a sensation of knives grinding inside his head. He groaned and tried to halt the painful process of returning consciousness by rolling over and burying his head in his arms.
'Mr Deveril?'
The soft-voiced enquiry struck him like a clarion and he groaned again in what he intended as a negation.
'Mr Deveril? It's only a headache, you know - you're not dying. And I have a tisane here which will make you feel much better. Only you must sit up.'
'I don't want to sit up. I want to be left alone.'
'Dont be a baby.'
This was the last straw. Alex opened his eyes and gingerly turned to face his tormentor. A curtain of hair, rose-gold and a lot brighter than he thought necessary, dazzled his vision. He blinked and looked again; brown eyes, flecked with amber. There was something familiar about them too - something he felt he ought to remember but couldn't.
'Who are you?'
'You don't know?'
'I wouldn't ask if I did.' He sat up cautiously. 'God - my skull's split.'
'You shouldn't have drunk the brandy,' said Chloe severely.
A strange fact communicated itself to Mr Deveril's impaired senses.
'We're sitting on the floor. Did I sleep here?'
She nodded, grinning.
'Why?'
'Because I had your bed. Drink this.' She handed him a mug.
Alex sniffed it suspiciously. 'It smells disgusting.'
'It tastes disgusting too,' she told him cheerfully. 'But it's your own fault, after all.'
'I know. The brandy,' recited Alex, preparing to swallow the mixture. 'Just tell me one thing. Why did you sleep in my bed?'
Chloe watched him tilt the mug to his mouth and grimace as he tasted its bitterness. 'But where else should I sleep? We are married.'
The timing was perfect. Caught with a mouthful of tisane, Alex spat, spluttered, dropped the mug and began to cough. Chloe thumped him helpfully on the back and then, when the choking subsided, passed him a handkerchief.
Alex mopped his eyes and then sat quite still, turning the dampened linen thoughtfully in his fingers. Finally, he said, 'Would you repeat that?'
Chloe experienced a pang of misgiving.
'I said that we're married.'
Looking up, his eyes bloodshot but suddenly disconcertingly intense, Alex considered her.
'Now that,' he remarked, 'is news.'
The Marigold Chain is a richly-woven tapestry of treachery, danger and love set against a backdrop of Restoration England during the year expected to be Doomsday.
This edition extensively revised from the original.
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