Once Upon a Midnight Dream

Chronicles of the Westbrook Brides, Book 10

His forgotten past might shatter her future…

Captain Layton Westbrook has lost everything—his identity, his past, and the life he once knew. Left battered and near death after a violent attack, he awakens in a quiet countryside school, his mind a blank slate. Haunted by fragmented memories and a single vow never to trust again, Layton finds himself drawn to the serene presence of the woman who saved him. But shadows from his past are closing in, and danger may strike before he can uncover the truth.

Lillibet Granger has dedicated her life to Kelston Hall Children’s School, nurturing orphans with the love she never knew. As the illegitimate daughter of a viscount’s sister, her position is precarious, but her compassion and quiet strength have earned her respect. When she finds an injured man on the school grounds, her instincts urge caution, but his vulnerability stirs something deeper. Yet Lilly knows better than to dream of love—a plain, practical woman like her has no place in a hero’s world.

As Layton’s memories begin to surface, so do threats that could destroy everything Lilly holds dear. The future of her beloved school hangs by a thread, and Layton’s hidden identity could be the key to saving it—or the cause of its downfall. In a world where trust is fragile and love demands the ultimate risk, will they defy the odds and seize a second chance at happiness? Or will the secrets they hold tear them apart forever?

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See What Readers Are Saying

★★★★★ “The entertaining, well-written storyline includes wonderful cousins, teachers, children, and flirty older women as secondary characters. The heartwarming epilogue has cameos of family members. I loved the intrigue, danger, humor, love, and romance of the story. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the Westbrook family. I’m sure you will find them as captivating as I did!” ~ Terrie Norris

★★★★★ “What a deliciously different storyline for the ending of a wonderful series. Layton is fighting for his life. Lilly is an orphanage director who finds him. This story has all the emotions raging, from pain, loss, anger, and grief, to love and understanding. The twists and turns keep your attention as you are afraid to miss something. The characters were so believable that I wanted to be a part of them! Some of the story was hilarious-especially in the orchard scene! The chemistry between Lilly and Layton was palpable and their first kiss-divine! The epilogue was bittersweet, but could feel the love between all the family members throughout the pages. A great ending for a wonderful family, that will be sorely missed!”  ~ Pat Robinson

★★★★★ “This is a sweet and wonderful story. Layton has always been a favorite character in the background of the Westbrook saga. The author uses a simple and smooth cadence for the dialogue and narrative throughout the story. It keeps the reader invested in the characters and their lives. This is a wonderful story to start the new year with.” ~ Suzette

★★★★★ “It is entertaining and well written with delightful and interesting characters. The drama, amnesia, humor, intrigue, and emotional issues kept me engaged. I enjoyed that it included past family members and that a beautiful love came to be. The ending was perfect. I highly recommend reading.” ~ Lyn D. Rose

★★★★★ “A sweet romance with the excitement of a mystery. Two people who would never have met or spoken in the normal way of life find a lot in common.” ~ Petula Winmill

★★★★★ “A sweet clean story filled with love and actions that can take place in everyday life. Thoroughly enjoyable; I’m sorry to see this series end.” ~ Jo

★★★★★ “The storyline was very entertaining, and there were a lot of interesting secondary characters, humorous moments, and some sweet romantic scenes.” ~ MT

★★★★★ “I thoroughly enjoyed this engaging story… The epilogue brings a satisfying end to this series. I just love Colette’s style of writing, it’s just so easy to read, always with a touch of humour and a happy ending.” ~ Cheryl

★★★★★ “The author has been praised for exceptional storytelling, masterful character development, and immersive world-building. Her knack for weaving intricate plots and crafting captivating romances has earned her numerous awards and a die-hard fanbase. This book is another feather in her cap, delivering a powerful and emotional conclusion to a beloved series.” ~ Lana Birky

★★★★★ “I do love the Westbrooks & this is another absolutely delightful romance, I loved everything about it, the characters, the story, the chemistry between Cassius & Beatrice & the intrigue. I read it in a sitting as I couldn’t put it down. A very well written engrossing romance, which I loved” ~ Janet

~ Excerpt ~

Prologue

The outskirts of the sleepy village of Prudhoe, England

Late August 1828—almost midnight

Breath coming in heaving gasps and holding one bruised arm across his throbbing ribs, Captain Layton Westbrook grasped the fencepost with his badly lacerated free hand.

Cursing and grimacing against the lancing pain, he dragged his foot onto the wooden fence’s lowest rail. The effort cost him mightily, and a wave of dizziness threatened to send him to his knees.

Again.

Nearby, an owl’s haunting hoot rent the air.

Almost immediately, the sounds of a not-so-small animal thrashing about in the hedgerow slightly behind and to Layton’s left muted the booming call. Heaven help him should the creature be a female badger returning to her burrow and cubs.

Motionless and holding his breath, Layton strained his ears until the scurrying and crackling in the underbrush abated. Only then did he dare raise his sweaty, blood-caked face and draw in a handful of shallow breaths.

Steady on, old chap.

You have been in worse scrapes.

Though an officer in the army for two decades, except for the explosion that blinded him in one eye, Layton had not. He shoved the memories of that trauma to the back of his mind. This was not the time to reflect on his dead wife’s perfidy.

Right now, concentrating on surviving and evading capture must be his sole focus.

And, of course, getting word to his family that he was alive, if not particularly hale and hearty.

Not a single doubt beset him that the Earl of Highbury’s henchmen still pursued him. The earl could not afford for Layton to escape and tell the world what the blackguard had done.

What Layton did not know, however, was how quickly his abductors had discovered his absence and followed him. Or, if they had been fooled by the false trail to Henshaw he had laid, delaying his flight by several precious minutes.

He prayed his ruse had worked.

Not that he deserved God’s grace, but mayhap the good Lord had deigned to show him favor, just this once.

The thin silvery crescent suspended in the heavens did little to illuminate the night, but at least no clouds blurred the millions of sparkling stars.

Darkness did not bother him.

In fact, he usually found it soothing and peaceful.

This was not one of those times.

As a captain in His Majesty’s Army, Layton had engaged in stealthy nocturnal assignments in blackness darker than the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat and as dangerous as encountering the devil himself.

Compared to those life-threatening adventures, tonight was simply a jaunt to Vauxhall or Covent Garden.

Or so he kept repeating to himself as he had slogged onward toward Hexham.

It was a colossal lie, of course.

No one had ever held him prisoner or tortured him before.

An enormous shadow passed overhead; its great wings outstretched.

The eagle-owl he had heard calling earlier.

With considerable effort, Layton levered his other foot onto the low rail.

A ragged groan tore from his throat as pain radiated throughout his body with the movement.

Besides more than one broken rib, fingers, knuckles, multiple lacerations, and a fractured nose, his foggy brain, blurry vision, and the crushing pain in his head suggested he had sustained a concussion too.

Not before he had given as good as he’d received, by God. If his mouth was not so bloody and battered, his lips chapped and scabbed, he might have summoned a triumphant grin.

His throat dry as ash, he swallowed.

Devil it, he was deuced thirsty.

A fulminating wave of weakness and dizziness cascaded over him.

I cannot do it.

I cannot go on.

Fighting faintness, which could prove deadly should he succumb, he lowered his forehead to the highest rail and, resting his head there, sucked in shallow rasps of cool air.

You must, Layton Alexander Vale Westbrook.

Cassius’s and Beatrice’s lives might well depend on it.

Other Westbrooks’ lives too.

But the truth was, Layton had already failed Cassius.

Pain scoured him.

A dagger impaling his heart could not have hurt worse.

He had promised his youngest brother that he would return for him and Beatrice after leaving them in the forest glen to seek help at Hefferwickshire House—their familial home and the duchy’s grand country estate.

That had been two—no—three days ago.

He scrunched his forehead.

Or had it been four?

Layton honestly did not know.

Everything had become a blur.

With his mind befuddled from the beatings he had endured, as well as lack of food and water, he could not recall the passage of time with any certainty.

One thing he did know, however, beyond any doubt.

The peer responsible for his abduction had no qualms about killing anyone who stood in his way, including the Earl of Highbury’s niece, Beatrice Fairfax.

Not in the habit of praying, Layton sent up a silent plea for divine intervention, nevertheless.

God, help me.

Please let Cassius and Beatrice be safe.

Four tries and as many tumbles later, amidst a bevy of curses that would have caused a seasoned sailor to blush crimson, he finally flopped onto his back in the foggy meadow on the other side.

Staring at the twinkling stars in the jet-black sky, Layton fought to remain conscious, each breath lancing him with burning pain.

The chilly ground permeated his clothing, and a shiver shook him.

Wounded and utterly spent, he could not continue much farther.

How much distance had he put between himself and the men the mad-as-a-hatter, Earl of Highbury, had hired to abduct him?

Layton guessed he had traveled three, mayhap, four miles.

Not bloody far enough to be safe.

A horse would have been most welcome, but there had been no sign of his gray bay gelding. Likely, the animal had been sold. Besides, Layton was not positive he could have saddled or mounted a horse.

Even with his arms wrapped around his torso for support, his broken ribs made running impossible. He could only manage a rapid, faltering walk. He hoped anyone glimpsing him through the vapor rising from the meadow would have mistaken him for a drunken tippler, stumbling his way home.

Eyes squeezed shut and grinding his teeth together against the agony coursing through every pore in his body, Layton rolled over, pushed to his knees, and then used the sturdy fence to pull himself upright.

More rustling sounded from the hedgerow, and a chorus of field crickets chirping to attract mates filled the air.

Sagging against the structure, he squinted at the misty meadow.

Just a little farther.

Enough to ensure he had eluded his captors.

Before dawn’s glow lit the sky, Layton hoped to find a place to rest and seek help in Hexham.

In the distance, several manor houses dotted the horizon, their grand chimneys lined up like proud, shadowy sentinels against the midnight sky. Surely amongst the residents, someone knew of his father, the powerful Duke of Latham.

One mention of his adopted father’s name, and Layton was confident aid would be forthcoming swiftly. Especially if he hinted at a generous reward for discretion and speed.

Hunched over, a fresh trickle of blood oozing down his forehead into his one good eye, Layton stumbled forward, forcing his legs into a clumsy trot. He had only traveled a few yards before he tripped over a grass-covered rock and crashed to the ground, striking his injured head.

Sweet Jesus.

Nausea swirled in his belly, and he released a ragged moan.

It was too much.

His mind and spirit were willing, but his broken body had forsaken him.

The burbling of a nearby brook soothed his tortured soul.

I am sorry, Cassius.

Blackness and despair enshrouded Layton as he sank into oblivion.