"A recovered bride, a spurned husband and an underhanded cousin equal a compelling read!"
Reviewed by Morgan Chilson
Posted February 19, 2010
Romance Historical
For two years, Grayson had lived with suggestions that
something horrible had happened to make his new bride,
Verity, vanish on their wedding day -- and some even dared
hint that he killed her. When he stumbles across her,
hiding in the country, he is furious but oddly kind to her.
And as he listens to her insist that she was forced by her
cousin, Bertram, into the marriage, he begins to wonder
whether he can hold her to their arrangement as he
originally intended. Verity knew she couldn't disappear forever. But she is
still horrified at being found by her husband, Grayson, and
is determined to have the marriage dissolved. It can be,
too, if she can prove that Bertram coerced her. To buy
herself time, she caves to the ridiculous request from
Grayson that he will be happy -- for awhile -- if she
promises not to disappear again and that she will give him
three kisses per day. My favorite part of every Madeline Hunter book -- and
I've read them all -- is becoming acquainted with her
characters. Grayson is particularly likable in this book,
although one wonders a bit at how calm he stays with Verity
when he has all but been accused of her murder. This
sensual, compelling read will leave readers anxious for the
next Rarest Blooms sequel.
SUMMARY
Their marriage was arranged, but their desire was not... After two years, Grayson Bridlington, The Earl of
Hawkeswell, has located his missing bride Verity Thompson.
Coerced into marrying Hawkeswell by her duplicitous cousin,
Verity fled London for the countryside. Now, the couple must
make the most of an arranged marriage-even if it means
surrendering to their shared desire.
ExcerptThe boots stopped nearby and Verity had to acknowledge him.
He had wonderful eyes, as all the women noticed. Had those
eyes been dull or shallow, the color would not mesmerize,
but they reflected so much instead. Intelligence and
confidence and, on better days, humor. There also showed a
touch of the arrogance that was natural to a man of his
birth and appearance. She was a normal woman, and not immune to those eyes and
that face. He had intimidated her two years ago when,
almost broken by Bertram’s treatment, she had all but
cowered in this earl’s presence. Such as she did not marry such as he. Not because she was
not worthy, and not because she had already chosen a
different kind of man and a different future. Any chance of
happiness would be doomed because they had known two
different worlds, two different Englands, and had almost no
points in common and no similar sympathies. The only thing about him that had been familiar to her had
been the mastery in his manner. Her father had been like
that. But her father had not been such a big man, and so
his mastery did not carry the implications of physical
power that this earl’s did. Her intuitions about that power
had not been good, and his presence had made her want to
shrink . . . recede . . . disappear. She had taken an odd sort of comfort in his face, however.
Handsome, to be sure, but not pretty. Not smooth and almost
feminine like some elegant lords. It was a thoroughly
masculine handsomeness, the kind that might be seen over a
forge or in a stable. The strong bones came together with a
perfection that seemed more accidental than carefully bred,
and the insinuation of disdain was not there the way it
could be in other, softer faces. “Summerhays and Audrianna have suggested that we go to
Essex with them,” he said. “Their idea is that some time
there might help you become comfortable with the future,
and with me.” “That is kind of them. Also of you, if you have accepted
the plan.” “I am not without sympathy to the shock that you have had
in being discovered. If a few days in Essex will ease your
distress, we can wait on returning to London.” He was being most solicitous. She was not sure that was a
good thing. If he was too kind, it would all be harder. “I will be grateful for this sojourn before being
resurrected, Lord Hawkeswell. The public curiosity will not
be pleasant, and I do not mind putting it off. I wonder if
I can make a request about this house visit, however. Since
it will be brief, perhaps you will indulge me for these few
days.” Suspicion entered his eyes, and a bit of pique. No doubt he
thought he had already agreed to indulge her more than
required. “How so?” “Since this has indeed been unexpected, I would appreciate
it if we would put off any wedding night until the visit is
over. Perhaps we can use this time to learn what we have in
each other, so . . .” She shrugged, and hoped he understood
women as well as Celia claimed. “You play a shrewd hand, considering that you have no
cards. I do not mind delaying those rights for a few days
as you ask. After waiting two years, it is a small matter.
If you think that you are going to convince me to seek an
annulment, however, that will not happen.” How like a man to think he could foresee the future. To
think he knew now how he would feel in four days on such an
important matter. Once he knew her better, and once he
heard her proposal about the money, he would surely be of a
different mind. “I also ask that you not inform anyone about finding me
until we leave Essex,” she said. “If we can put off all the
gossip for these few days, I can better prepare myself for
it.” “I will agree to both your requests if you also agree to
several things,” he said. “First, you must promise not to
run away and disappear again tonight.” That was easy to accept. There would be no point in running
away with him so close on her trail. Besides, she had
things to do, and she could not do them if she went into
hiding again. He stepped closer and looked down at her. His proximity
emphasized his strength and her disadvantage in ways that
she felt viscerally. “I require that you accept one other term in this bargain,
Verity. I will not expect my marital rights if you
willingly accept three kisses a day.” He surprised her. It would be much better if they did not
do that. “What kind of kisses?” “Whatever kind you will permit.” “Very brief ones, then.” “Other than the kisses themselves, I will expect nothing
more.” “They must be private. I do not want to kiss in front of
Audrianna.” “I promise that they will be private.” He smiled a little
when he said it, as if he understood why she wanted that.
She thought that was a good sign. It was the first smile of
the day too. She had to admit that he had a nice smile, one
that brought lights to his eyes and made his face much
friendlier. “If they will be private and brief, I will agree to three
kisses. I do not know why you want them so soon, and every
day, however.” “Perhaps because you are lovely, and because you are my
wife.” Still that vague smile, and eyes now veiled with
appreciative consideration. So that was how it was going to be. While she won him over
to the idea of not fighting an annulment, he would try to
win her over to the idea of her inevitable fate in his bed. “Then we are decided,” she said. “When does Lord Sebastian
think to leave for Essex? Today? If so, I should pack my
belongings. It will not take long.” “Tomorrow. He and I will go to an inn tonight, and bring
his carriage in the morning.” She nodded her acceptance, and went back to piercing the
soil around a lemon tree with her auger. He did not leave
as she expected, but stood there, two feet away, watching
her. “Verity, I will have one of those kisses now.” She straightened and faced him. “We are not yet in Essex.” “I did not say they would wait for Essex. You can spare one
today, I am sure. This has not been a reunion designed to
put me in good humor, and you are smart enough to know that
I did not have to agree to this plan, and could have much
more than a kiss if I chose.” There it was again, that frank statement of his rights and
her lack of power. A shiver of an old fear flexed through
her before she could stop it. It would probably always be
thus. A woman should at least be truly willing, and have an
honest understanding, before she was put completely under a
man’s authority and subjected to the whims of his humor. She suppressed both the fear and the rebellion that usually
accompanied it now. He had given her no real cause to react
this way. It had not been a reunion to please a man, or a
discovery that flattered this one. Yet he had been more
amenable to this house visit than he had to be. “You are correct. One kiss today is the least I can do to
thank you for the restraint you have promised to show.” He found that slightly amusing, but perhaps not in a good
way. He moved very close to her and, with firm fingers,
tilted her chin up. The contact felt strange, and a little
dangerous. She was not accustomed to being touched by a
man, skin on skin, even in this simple way. He gazed so deeply that she grew uncomfortable. She closed
her eyes, braced herself, and prepared to step back after
the briefest touch of their lips. “Have you ever been kissed before?” he asked. “Years ago, when I was a young girl.” A vague snip of
memory drifted into her head. She saw Michael Bowman’s
crooked smile before that first kiss. A deep sorrow twisted
her heart. “How many years ago?” “Six, I think. Why do you ask?” “There is the possibility that you did not run from me, so
much as run to another man.” The suggestion alarmed her. “There is no man here, as you
can see.” “That you are here, and there is no man, does not mean you
did not leave because of one.” He did not give her a chance to respond. He tilted his head
and touched his lips to hers. She had no specific memory of the physical parts of that
girlish first kiss, other than it had made her want to
giggle. Certainly it did not prepare her for the oddness of
this intimacy, and the way he suddenly dominated her
senses. There was firmness in his mouth despite the velvet
pads of his lips, and control in that hand beneath her chin
even as it held her gently. She became aware of how little space separated their
bodies, and how his scent encompassed her along with
something else that came from him, something invisible but
almost tangible. There was too much of his presence in that
kiss, and much of it came from within rather than from his
physical existence. She did not suffer it long. She allowed little more than a
mere brushing that created an odd tingle, and a slight
pressure that she resisted. She stepped back quickly,
freeing herself from that careful hand. He looked at her with deep consideration for a moment, then
turned away. “Until tomorrow, then, dear wife.”
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