What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* Richard Windsor, the Prince of Wales, travels through time to claim Jocelyn's heart, but if it isn't one challenge, it's another. He determines to be a constant, steady presence in her life, hoping to prove he'd make a worthy husband.
* Jocelyn's facing a bucket full of problems. The Prime Minister wants her to assist in ending a coal strike before it cripples the nation while her father attempts to recover from a serious injury. Will Jocelyn's dedication to her country and family ruin the one chance she has at love?
* Taking a peek in the mirror over her dresser, she frowned. Her hair was all frizz.
* Grabbing a ribbon from the small container on the dresser, she put it up in a bun. It wasn't her neatest work, but it would do. Satisfied, she raced downstairs, joining Richard and Sergeant Eastman in the foyer.
* "Are you sure you want to go now?" Richard crossed his arms. "You should rest. There are lines under your eyes."
* She waved her hand in the air. "Now's the time to strike -- while the coals are hot or the rain is wet, depending on your point of view."
* Richard placed his hands on his hips and looked her over from head-to-toe.
* Jocelyn pursed her lips. "What now?"
* "You're exasperating, frustrating, infur--" His tone remained light as he helped her into her overcoat.
* "I've heard it all, I assure you. Do you want to stay with your brother?"
* "Not on your life. Ed can keep Mrs. Riddle plenty of company and I don't want to miss out on the adventure of a lifetime."
* She cracked a grin despite herself and flung open the door. Mr. Riddle waited with the horses, protected by a heavy coat. The rain was lighter now, but still steady. Jocelyn hoped it would taper off soon. She grabbed the leather reins, tugged, and the horses trotted away. Unfortunately the driver's seat proved cramped with Richard and Sergeant Eastman both insisting on sitting with her, neither willing to budge.
* The trip proved soggy, but Jocelyn made good time. Mr. Riddle's directions were spot on and Jocelyn's memory hadn't failed her. She turned onto Rosewood, avoided a puddle and spied a long, brick building with grey smoke spitting out of the chimneys. Jocelyn parked the carriage next to the stoic façade and her companions helped her secure the horses to the hitching posts. Jocelyn extended her brass and iron umbrella, up to her ankles in mud. Once the horses were tied up, Jocelyn approached the entrance. She grabbed the iron knocker, and pounded on the door. Richard and Sergeant Eastman stood on each side.
* "I hear ya!" a gruff voice said, pushing the unwieldy door open. "Who might you be?" He gasped for breath between yellow stained teeth and narrowed his dark eyes, giving her the once over. Thank the rivets her overcoat hid most of her unusual dress.
* "I'm Lady Jocelyn Ridgecroft. The prime minister sent me to meet with the miners regarding the coal strike."
* "You're a day early."
* "I've had a change of plans."
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