She Thought HE WAS DEAD!

When Rebecca discovered the wounded soldier in the barn, she rushed to his aid. Though he wore the red coat of a Tory, his suffering appealed to her fourteen-year-old heart. Their secret vows were merely the fulfillment of a dying man's last wish, for Nicholas Wythe was soon taken away from the Connecticut farm and left to die in a colonial prison.

Five years later, as Rebecca stood at the altar for a proper wedding, Nicholas returned. The gleam in his obsidian eyes was unmistakable; Lord Foxbridge had come to claim his bride.

From the rough woodlands of her home to the stained-glass arches of Foxbridge Cloister, Rebecca struggled against the formidable will of her husband. She was a Yankee in the arms of a Loyalist.

His kisses sent treasonous thoughts surging through her blood even as his every touch lit new fires in her rebel's heart.

Rebecca had fallen in love with the enemy.

And this one was one war she was determined to win.