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All for You
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Praise for the novels of New York Times
bestselling author Lynn Kurland
One Magic Moment
“Stepping into one of Lynn Kurland’s time-travel novels is definitely one magic moment in itself …”
—All About Romance
“A sweet, tenderhearted time-travel romance … Lynn Kurland makes you want to find one of those infamous gateways to the past and find your very own knight in shining armor!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“A story on an epic scale with humor and clever dialogue … Kurland has written another time-travel marvel where the reader will be just as enchanted by the hero as the heroine is … Perfect for those looking for a happily ever after.”
—RT Book Reviews
One Enchanted Evening
“Kurland presents another triumphant romance … Readers unfamiliar with her works will have great joy and ease in following the story … and longtime readers will exult in having more familial pieces fall into place.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A perfect blend of medieval intrigue and time-travel romance. I was totally enthralled from the beginning to the end.”
—Once Upon a Romance
“Woven with magic, handsome heroes, lovely heroines, oodles of fun, and plenty of romance … a typical Lynn Kurland book—beautifully written with an enchanting, entertaining, and just plain wonderful story line.”
—Romance Reviews Today
Till There Was You
“Expertly mixes past with present to prove that love endures all things and outlasts almost everything, including time itself. With an eye to detail and deliciously vivid imagery, this paranormal tale of matchmaking comes fully to life … Spellbinding and lovely, this is one story readers won’t want to miss.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
“A fantastic story that will delight both readers who are familiar with the families and those who aren’t.”
—Romance Reviews Today (Perfect 10 Award)
“An amusing time-travel romance starring a terrific, fully developed hero whose good intentions, present and past, are devastated by love … fast-paced.”
—Midwest Book Review
With Every Breath
“As always, [Kurland] delivers a delightful read!”
—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“Kurland is a skilled enchantress … With Every Breath is breathtaking in its magnificent scope, a true invitation to the delights of romance.”
—Night Owl Reviews
When I Fall in Love
“Kurland infuses her polished writing with a deliciously dry wit, and her latest time-travel love story is sweetly romantic and thoroughly satisfying.”
—Booklist
“The continuation of a wonderful series, this story can also be read alone. It’s an extremely good book.”
—Affaire de Coeur
Much Ado in the Moonlight
“A pure delight.”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“A consummate storyteller … [Kurland] will keep the reader on the edge of their seat, unable to put the book down until the very last word.”
—ParaNormal Romance
Dreams of Stardust
“Kurland weaves another fabulous read with just the right amounts of laughter, romance, and fantasy.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Kurland crafts some of the most ingenious time-travel romances readers can find … wonderfully clever and completely enchanting.”
—RT Book Reviews
A Garden in the Rain
“Kurland laces her exquisitely romantic, utterly bewitching blend of contemporary romance and time travel with a delectable touch of tart wit, leaving readers savoring every word of this superbly written romance.”
—Booklist
“Kurland is clearly one of romance’s finest writers—she consistently delivers the kind of stories readers dream about. Don’t miss this one.”
—The Oakland Press
From This Moment On
“A disarming blend of romance, suspense, and heartwarming humor, this book is romantic comedy at its best.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A deftly plotted delight, seasoned with a wonderfully wry sense of humor and graced with endearing, unforgettable characters.”
—Booklist
My Heart Stood Still
“Written with poetic grace and a wickedly subtle sense of humor … romance with characters readers will come to care about and a love story they will cherish.”
—Booklist
If I Had You
“A passionate story filled with danger, intrigue, and sparkling dialogue.”
—Rendezvous
The More I See You
“The superlative Ms. Kurland once again wows her readers with her formidable talent as she weaves a tale of enchantment that blends history with spellbinding passion and impressive characterization, not to mention a magnificent plot.”
—Rendezvous
Another Chance to Dream
“Kurland creates a special romance between a memorable knight and his lady.”
—Publishers Weekly
The Very Thought of You
“A masterpiece … this fabulous tale will enchant anyone who reads it.”
—Painted Rock Reviews
This Is All I Ask
“Both powerful and sensitive … a wonderfully rich and rewarding book.”
—Susan Wiggs
Titles by Lynn Kurland
STARDUST OF YESTERDAY A GARDEN IN THE RAIN
A DANCE THROUGH TIME DREAMS OF STARDUST
THIS IS ALL I ASK MUCH ADO IN THE MOONLIGHT
THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU WHEN I FALL IN LOVE
ANOTHER CHANCE TO DREAM WITH EVERY BREATH
THE MORE I SEE YOU TILL THERE WAS YOU
IF I HAD YOU ONE ENCHANTED EVENING
MY HEART STOOD STILL ONE MAGIC MOMENT
FROM THIS MOMENT ON ALL FOR YOU
The Novels of the Nine Kingdoms
STAR OF THE MORNING A TAPESTRY OF SPELLS
THE MAGE’S DAUGHTER SPELLWEAVER
PRINCESS OF THE SWORD GIFT OF MAGIC
Anthologies
THE CHRISTMAS CAT
(with Julie Beard, Barbara Bretton, and Jo Beverley)
CHRISTMAS SPIRITS
(with Casey Claybourne, Elizabeth Bevarly, and Jenny Lykins)
VEILS OF TIME
(with Maggie Shayne, Angie Ray, and Ingrid Weaver)
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
(with Elizabeth Bevarly, Emily Carmichael, and Elda Minger)
LOVE CAME JUST IN TIME
A KNIGHT’S VOW
(with Patricia Potter, Deborah Simmons, and Glynnis Campbell)
TAPESTRY
(with Madeline Hunter, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and Karen Marie Moning)
TO WEAVE A WEB OF MAGIC
(with Patricia A. McKillip, Sharon Shinn, and Claire Delacroix)
THE QUEEN IN WINTER
(with Sharon Shinn, Claire Delacroix, and Sarah Monette)
A TIME FOR LOVE
eSpecials
“TO KISS IN THE SHADOWS” FROM TAPESTRY
ALL FOR YOU
LYNN KURLAND
JOVE BOOKS, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over
and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
ALL FOR YOU
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with Kurland Book Productions, Inc.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Jove mass-market edition / May 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Kurland Book Productions, Inc.
Cover art by Jim Griffin.
Cover handlettering by Ron Zinn.
Cover design by George Long.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or
electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of
copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-58041-7
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Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
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If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is
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ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
ALL FOR YOU
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 1
SEDGWICK CASTLE, ENGLAND
PRESENT DAY
If life were a set of scales, Peaches Alexander could safely say that Fate had just dumped a load of bricks on the opposite balance.
She didn’t like the feeling of being flung off the proverbial pan and not so much into the fire but up into the air without a clue as to where she would land. She liked being in control of her life, having her ducks in a row, her shoes organized by color, her spices waiting obediently in the cabinet, secure in their alphabetical sorting. This business of having events spiral out of control without her permission was just not in her plans.
She scowled. Very well, so she’d been needing a bit of a change. She had known for quite a while that she was just marking time and not using her gifts. But having Fate tinkering with things to this extent, well, this was not at all to her liking.
She stood in the courtyard of her sister’s castle and looked around, frowning and wishing there was somewhere she could hide until she’d figured out how she was going to get out of her current mess. She had already gone for a run that morning, but that had felt less like clearing her head and more like scampering away from her problems. No, she needed something constructive to do with her hands so her mind could work on other more pressing problems.
She looked toward the gatehouse and saw her salvation. She walked across the finely laid stone and winter-brittle grass and stopped in front of the door leading to her sister’s prop room. Since it was really nothing more than a big closet—and she was used to organizing big closets—it would provide not only the hiding place she needed but a very welcome distraction. She didn’t dare hope that while she was there she would manage to distract herself from Fate’s handiwork that she held in her hand.
A very thick stack of faxes spelling the end of her life as she knew it.
She walked into the former guardroom and had to pause for a moment and admire. That she was standing in what centuries before would have been a rather fragrant haunt of the front-gate guards was actually rather amazing. It was all due to her twin sister, who had decided to come to Cambridge to study, then remained in England long enough to find herself the owner of a castle boasting a guardroom turned into a prop room for the use of guests that wanted to pretend they were going back in time and thought dressing the part might help the process.
Peaches had her own thoughts on the notion of pretending to travel through time and what sorts of accoutrements might be necessary, but she supposed it would be wise to just let those thoughts continue on into the realm of the ridiculous where they belonged.
She glanced at the faxes in her hand, then set them down on a trunk near the door. She knew what they said; reading them again would only get her stirred up. There was plenty to keep her busy, most notably in that long rack of men’s costumes she’d almost finished arranging before she had decamped for France to leave her sister and her new husband a bit of privacy. She was happy to see that everything was where it should have been.
Well, everything but the notable exception of a medieval-style tabard bearing a black lion rampant who looked down his nose superciliously from a turquoise blue eye.
Peaches scowled as she returned the feisty lion to its rightful place. She knew who had worn that the last time around. That he had failed, in spite of his academic credentials and apparent ability to organize all sorts of interesting facts and tweed suit coats, to put it back where it went didn’t surprise her in the least.
She continued to grumble about the inconsiderate nature of some people as she worked her way down the rack to the end. She looked at the various types of hats sitting on the shelf above her, turned away, then stopped and looked back. She reached and pulled down a Scottish cap with some sort of creature holding a bone in its mouth. She was certainly no expert in heraldry, but she was quite proficient in translating Latin thanks to a rather austere upbringing at her aunt Edna’s. Audentes Fortuna Juvat.
Fortune favors the bold. Too bad she wasn’t feeling particularly bold at the moment, in direct contrast to the McKinnon who had chosen that as his clan motto. She knew all the clan mottos because along with a copy of Burke’s Peerage she had appropriated from Aunt Edna’s vast library of obscure and dusty books, she had also memorized the contents of a very small tome on Scottish clans. Who would have thought any of it would come in handy—
A hanger squeaked.
Peaches froze, rolled her eyes, t
hen blew out her breath and put her shoulders back. There was absolutely nothing odd about what she’d just heard because she was in a room full of hangers that could possibly have squeaked. The castle was drafty. In fact, she wasn’t altogether sure she hadn’t been talking to herself and that certainly would have set up enough moving hot air that a hanger could have—
The hanger squeaked again.
All right, now that was taking things too far. She wasn’t above entertaining the thought of paranormal activity in her sister’s castle for reasons she didn’t care to examine too closely at the moment, but the thought of entertaining said activity now was anything but entertaining. She had important things to contemplate, solutions to come up with, her entire life that she was holding together with a very thin thread to gather up and wrap up a bit tighter before it completely exploded around her.
Unfortunately, she had the feeling she wasn’t going to have a say in current events because the uncomfortable truth was that while Sedgwick might have been overlooked on a few Supernatural British Locales lists, she could personally verify that it was haunted.
By, for example, the red-haired, bekilted Scotsman standing ten feet from her with his hand on a hanger, apparently using quite a bit of energy to wiggle it—and the tabard draped over it—around. She didn’t really want to have a little tête-à-tête with a ghost, but when in England …
“Is it heavy?” she asked, because it was the first thing that came to mind.
“Nay, but ’tis an Englishman’s tabard,” he said, breathing heavily. “I’m breathless with distaste.”
She almost laughed, but then she realized just which Englishman’s tabard the ghost was shaking and her amusement vanished abruptly. Even from where she stood, she could see that rearing lion of Artane eyeing her with disapproval. She pursed her lips.
“I can understand your feelings there,” she said.
“’Tis a good family,” the ghost said. “For Englishmen, that is.” He looked at her and scrunched up his face. “Don’t ye think?”
His purposeful look was profoundly unsettling. She would have preferred to believe he had simply taken hold of a random hanger, but the way he was hanging on to it as though his continued existence depended on it led her to believe the selection was a deliberate one.