[Grace-by-the-Sea 03] • The Artist's Healer

Grace-by-the-Sea: Where romance and adventure come home.

Spunky artist and entrepreneur Abigail Archer is determined to see her friend, Jesslyn Denby, restored as director of the spa at Grace-by-the-Sea, even if that means ousting the news physician who took her place. A shame she was recently injured and requires him to dance attendance on her. But if he thinks she’ll meekly accept his orders, he’d better think again!

Doctor Linus Bennett came to the little coastal village with his young son to escape a troubled past. He’s not about to lose his post to some crusader, but the pretty painter awakens feelings he’d thought long buried. When it appears the French are about to invade, Abigail and Linus must work together to save the village. In doing so, the doctor may just find that falling in love with the outspoken Abigail is the best prescription to heal his wounded heart.

This sweet, clean Regency is the sequel to The Heiress’s Convenient Husband.

Here’s a taste:

Abigail took particular pleasure from the look on Doctor Bennett’s face when he came to bring Ethan and check on her the next morning. As his son went to the dining room where her mother had hot chocolate waiting, the doctor stopped in the middle of the sitting room and narrowed his eyes at her.

“I distinctly recall saying we might consider you getting out of bed,” he said.

Abigail rose from the sofa, her burgundy-colored skirts falling about her feet. It had taken an hour of practice that had left her sweating, but she could stand without putting either hand on the seat to help her. “I did consider it, and then I attempted it, and you can see for yourself that I am fine.”

His gaze swept over her, as if he was examining every inch of her, and her cheeks heated.

“Your color is too high,” he said, bringing his gaze to meet hers. “You obviously overexerted yourself.”

Abigail shook her head. “Have you ever considered that my color has less to do with my health and more to do with your infuriating suggestions?”

He frowned. “I suppose that’s possible. And how am I to examine your arm now that you’re clothed?”

“Ha!” She twisted to show him the white satin lacing on the long full sleeves. “Eva Howland let me borrow the gown. You have only to untie the ribbons, and the fabric will fall aside.”

He looked skeptical, but he dropped his bag on the sofa and began loosening the ribbon to run it back through the embroidery-edged holes.

Abigail glanced toward the dining room. Her mother was sitting calmly, sipping at her cup and nodding to something Ethan was saying. She had explained the function of the gown to her mother, but surely the woman had some opinion on the fact that her daughter was being partially undressed less than twenty feet away.

Doctor Bennett, thankfully, seemed more fascinated by the gown than what was inside. “Ingenious,” he allowed as the bandage came into view. “I’ll have to suggest this to the next lady I treat who has had the misfortune to be shot in the arm.”

Was he teasing her? Abigail turned her head to watch him. He was busy unwrapping the bandage, large hands quick but gentle. The scent of mint caught her nose. His cologne, perhaps? Or the soap he used?

“Any pain?” he asked.

Abigail gathered her wits. “None. I haven’t used the laudanum either. And I ate an entire bowl of stew with no nausea. I’m ready to go about my day.”

“Not until the stitches have been removed,” he said, gaze on her wound.

“So, remove them.”

He turned to retrieve the new bandage. “In another ten days.”

“Ten days!” Abigail stared at him. “Jesslyn Chance walks down the aisle in four. Nothing will keep me from her side.”