"An amusing tale of switched identities, while trying to cover up the death of a cruel husband."
Reviewed by Kay Quintin
Posted January 6, 2011
Romance Historical
Forced into a marriage with Richard Fairgrave, Lord Radmor,
to pay her father's debts, Christiana Madison knows she has
been duped by the caring façade originally presented
by "Dicky." After a year of cruelty and degradation,
Richard is found dead. With help from her sisters, Suzette
and Lisa, he is put on ice, keeping open the option for
Suzette to find a husband in order to free her dowry and
again pay her father's gambling debt. All is great until the real Richard shows up. It seems his
twin brother, George, unsuccessful at staging a fire to
kill Richard, is actually the one dead and on ice. It's
quite a problem when Christiana learns Dicky isn't really
Richard and she isn't really married. Offering to renew
their vows, the real Richard and Christiana then join
forces with her sisters, their best friend Robert, and
Richard's friend Daniel in uncovering the mysterious death
threats and blackmail surrounding George's demise. With
George's history of lies, cruelty and deceit, can
Christiana trust her love with anyone again, especially
George's twin? It would be hard to not enjoy this amusing story of the
sister's fumbling efforts in switching the body from place
to place in an effort to hide Christiana's "husband." The
story is full of many chuckles and misunderstandings that
bring the story to life. The characters are full of
surprises, as well as funny antics. Lynsay Sands is
a gifted writer able to keep readers' interest to the very
last page.
SUMMARY
The fairy tale courtship did not turn into a happily-ever-
after… Not until her husband dropped dead, that is. The earl had
been horrible enough to Christiana during their short
marriage, so rather than mourn his passing, she decides to
put her late husband on ice and go on as if nothing's
happened...
Until the real earl appears. Richard came to confront the
villainous twin brother who had robbed him of name and
title, but with the lout already dead, he quietly assumes
his brother's identity instead. Now he must deal with his
consuming desire for his ravishing inherited "wife"-
certainly a gold digger and possibly a murderess-while
Christiana must deal with her dashing
unwanted "husband"...and both must figure out what to do
when the ice melts!
ExcerptChapter One“My lady?” Christiana remained curled on her side in her cocoon of
blankets. She merely opened one eye to peer at the older
woman bent over her. Grace, her maid. “Hmm?” “Your sisters are here.” Those four words and the urgency
behind them brought her other eye open at once. “What? My sisters in London?” Christiana rolled over,
thrusting the blankets and linens away to sit up. “And here
at this hour? There must be some sort of emergency for them
to be calling so early.” “That was my thought when I saw them getting out of the
carriage,” Grace admitted as Christiana got out of bed. “So
I hurried up here to fetch you. If you’re quick we can have
you dressed and downstairs before your husband sends them
away.” “Dicky wouldn’t send them away,” Christiana said with
surprise, and then tacked on an uncertain, “Would he?” “He’s done so with others.” “Who?” Her horror and surprise came muffled from inside the
cloth of her nightdress as the maid dragged it off over her
head. “Lady Beckett, Lady Gower, Lord Ollivet and Lord
Langley . . . twice.” Grace turned away to trade the night
dress for a pale blue gown that matched Christiana’s eyes.
As she began to help her don it, she added, “And I can tell
you Lord Langley didn’t like it the first time, but was
absolutely livid the second.” “I can imagine,” Christiana said with a sigh as the dress
dropped to cover her body. The Langley estate bordered her
childhood home, Madison Manor. Robert, the only son and
heir, had grown up with her and her sisters. He was like
family, the big brother she’d never had. He wouldn’t have
appreciated being sent away like some sort of
undesirable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Grace snatched up a hairbrush and began to drag it through
her hair before saying, “What good would it have done?” “None,” Christiana admitted unhappily. Her husband had
every right to turn away whomever he wished from his door,
while she, as she’d come to learn, had few to no rights at
all in this marriage. She sighed, and then grimaced as
Grace tugged at her hair, pulling it into the tight,
matronly bun Christiana had worn since marriage, a style
she absolutely abhorred. Aside from being ugly, having her
hair pulled so tight all day resulted in terrible
headaches, but Dicky insisted it gave some sophistication
to her unruly person. “What could have brought my sisters here?” Christiana asked
worriedly. “I do not know, but it must be something important. They
did not send word of their arrival in the city ere
arriving,” the woman pointed out, and then stepped
back. “There. I have finished with your hair.” Christiana barely managed to swipe up her slippers before
Grace took her arm to urge her to move. “Come, we must
hurry. Haversham will have found and fetched Lord Radnor by
now. Let us hope we were quick enough and your husband has
not yet sent them away.” Grunting in agreement, Christiana hopped on first one foot
and then the other to get her slippers on without the
necessity of stopping as the woman rushed her to the door. Christiana could hear both Lisa’s and Suzette’s high
anxious voices from the entry below as she hurried along
the upper hall and immediately frowned at the rudeness of
keeping her sisters in the entry rather than showing them
to the parlor. She couldn’t blame Haversham, however, the
butler would only be following Dicky’s orders regarding
guests. Dicky’s voice sounded next, loud and pompous as he
announced, “I fear my wife is still sleeping. You really
should have sent a messenger around with a card had you
wished to see her. I could have responded with an
appropriate time for such a visit. As it is, I fear you
shall simply have to return to your father’s townhouse and
send that card now.” “Can we not just slip up to speak to her, Dicky? We are her
sisters and it’s important.” Suzette’s tone was a
combination of desperation, anger and something like shock.
The anger was no doubt at Dicky’s pompous words. Probably
the shock was as well, Christiana acknowledged and knew the
man her sisters now faced was a far cry from the one they’d
encountered prior to the wedding. She had no doubt they
were just as confused and startled by the change in him as
she herself had been for the first six months of their
marriage. However, it was the desperation that worried her.
Something was definitely wrong. “It’s all right, husband. I am awake,” Christiana called
out as she reached the stairs and started down. Dicky immediately turned to peer up at her, his face like
thunder. Whether his anger was over her sister’s words or
her own, she didn’t know. Dicky preferred to be obeyed, and
promptly; he wouldn’t appreciate Suzette’s insistence.
However, he also wouldn’t be pleased with her arrival
before he could send Suzette and Lisa away as he apparently
had others. Forcing a soothing smile to her lips, Christiana stepped
off the stairs and moved to his side. The man had a
terrible temper and could say the cruelest things when
angered. She had to live with the insults and criticisms,
but her sisters shouldn’t have to face the rage she found
so frightening. It wasn’t the anger itself that unsettled
Christiana so much as the depth of it. Fury swirled around
him at all times like a dark cloak. When provoked, his face
flushed red and twisted into a tight, cruel mask, and he
would begin to snap and snarl with such rage and venom that
spittle actually flew from his lips, and gathered at the
corners of his mouth like a rabid dog. He also tended to
tremble with the depth of his feelings as if they were
barely contained and might explode at any moment. It was
that explosion Christiana wished most to avoid. He was a
strong man and she didn’t wish ever to see the wreckage his
anger would leave in its wake were it completely unleashed. “Good morning, Dicky,” Christiana breathed nervously as she
reached his side. She leaned up to kiss his cold, hard
cheek as if all were well and she wasn’t fighting the urge
to flee the seething fury she could sense simmering in him. Dicky did not even respond to her greeting, snapping
instead, “I was just explaining to your sisters that it’s
quite rude to arrive uninvited so early in the morning.” “Yes, well, family is allowed some leeway, aren’t they?”
Christiana said, and winced at the pleading she could hear
in her own voice. There was no mistaking that she was
begging him not to make a scene and she could tell by her
sisters’ expression that they recognized it, which was just
humiliating. Even more humiliating was that Dicky chose to
ignore the plea. “My family would never arrive uninvited and without any
warning,” he snarled, sneering at her sisters as if they
were beneath contempt. “Of course your family wouldn’t. They’re all dead,” Suzette
snapped in response and Christiana glanced at her with
alarm. Her gaze then darted worriedly back to Dicky, who
was sucking in air through his teeth and puffing up. Recognizing the signs of an approaching explosion, she
quickly took his arm and tried to urge him away,
saying, “Why do you not go enjoy your breakfast and leave
me to deal with my sisters?” Dicky didn’t move. Feet planted solidly, he ignored her
tugging and scowled at Suzette who merely glared defiantly
back. Christiana closed her eyes briefly and fought the urge to
slap the stupid girl. Oh yes, Suzette was being brave
enough, but then she had little to lose in this battle.
Dicky couldn’t hit her or even penalize her in any way. It
was Christiana he would punish for the girl’s bravery. . .
and probably in several different ways. It wouldn’t be
enough for him to rant and rave at her for half an hour
about her unruly and uncouth family. He would also most
likely insist Suzette was a bad influence and order
Christiana not to see her again. Then he would add various
other little unpleasantries to the punishment such as
ensuring that all meals served were ones she disliked,
having her woken early with some excuse or other, and then
either insisting she retire early when she was curled up
with a good book, or keeping her up late when she was
exhausted. Where Dicky had started to leave her to her own
devices lately, he would probably force her to suffer his
company for the next several days as he ranted and raved
about everything and everyone in London in a manner sure to
leave her disheartened and depressed, and then he would
insist on taking her out to aid him in purchasing some item
or other, only so that he could announce that her choices
were poor ones and select something else instead in a show
of how little taste she had. All of which were petty
punishments, but when added together and carried on for
long periods of time would leave her exhausted and
despairing of a life of such steady, small tortures. On top of all of that, Dicky would also be spouting
criticism after criticism of her looks, her dress, her
speech, her comportment, her family members, her
intelligence, her naivety, her friends or her lack of them.
It would be a steady trickle of abuse that slowly eroded
every last vestige of self-esteem she possessed until she
longed for nothing but the escape of sleep. There was no
other escape available to her. Suicide was out of the
question, as was divorce. “Where is your father?” Dicky barked suddenly, drawing her
attention back to the matter at hand. “What kind of man
leaves two young unmarried women to gallivant about the
city without his escort?” “Visiting us is hardly gallivanting about the city,”
Christiana protested quickly to forestall Suzette doing
so. “Please husband, your breakfast will be getting cold.
Why do you not--” “Our breakfast,” Dicky corrected sharply and then smiled in
a way that made her sigh inwardly. He had thought of a way
to punish someone. “But you’re right. It is getting cold
while we waste our time on uninvited guests.” Christiana found her hand suddenly caught up in his as
Dicky began to drag her up the hall, “Show my wife’s
sisters to the parlor, Haversham. We shall attend them
after we have enjoyed the breakfast cook has worked so hard
to produce.” Christiana cast a glance that was half apologetic and half
warning to her sisters and then she was in the breakfast
room and Dicky was slamming the door closed behind them. “Your father should be ashamed of raising three such unruly
creatures,” Dicky snarled as he led her to the sideboard
and the food waiting there. “A little discipline would have
gone a long way toward making better women of you all. But
then he has little discipline himself, does he not?” Christiana remained silent, merely picking up a plate and
beginning to select food from the offerings. She had
learned long ago that to try to argue her case merely
ensured an even longer, more furious rant, so simply chose
a piece of toast and some fruit and started to turn away. “You will eat a proper breakfast, wife,” Dicky snapped,
bringing her to a halt. “Give me your plate.” Christiana bit her tongue as he snatched the china away,
and managed to swallow the sigh that tried to escape as
Dicky began to pile kidneys and kippers on her plate. She
hated both kidneys and kippers and he knew that. It seemed
the punishment was starting already. “There. Now you may sit.” A glance at the plate Dicky shoved under her nose showed
that he’d added scrambled eggs to the kidneys and kippers.
She preferred boiled eggs, but merely took the plate and
turned to take her place at the table. But she was wishing
the whole while that she had the nerve to toss the plate,
food and all, in his face. Unfortunately, she never did
anything so bold, ever. She might have, had he dared to
treat her like this before they were married, but he had
been all charm and compliments then. This behavior hadn’t
started until after the wedding, and Christiana had been so
startled and taken aback by the sudden transformation in
his attitude that she’d been slow to stand up for herself.
It had left her feeling as dazed as if someone had hit her
in the head. By the time she’d got over the shock and even
considered standing up for herself it was too late, the
criticisms and abuse had already taken effect and rather
than argue, she’d found herself wondering if perhaps the
dress he was criticizing wasn’t cut too low, or that the
shade might clash with her coloring. Her self-confidence
had been shaken, and as time had passed it was shaken more.
Now rather than even consider that he might be wrong, she
simply tried to appease him, soothe his temper and please
him if possible. Somehow she had become a slave with less
rights than the servants who worked for them. “You’re not eating your breakfast,” Dicky said as he joined
her at the table. Christiana cleared her throat. “I am not very hungry.” “I don’t care. You’re too skinny. Eat,” Dicky said firmly,
and then added, “Your diet is atrocious. You don’t eat
enough meat. Eat your kidney and kippers.” Christiana bowed her head and began to eat, doing her best
not to taste what went into her mouth. That was impossible,
however, and she was more than grateful to finish the last
bite and stand up. “What are you doing?” Christiana stilled, her eyes shooting to her husband. “I am
finished, Dicky. I thought I would go see what my sisters--” “I am not finished.” When confusion covered Christiana’s
face, he snapped, “Is it too much to expect my wife to keep
me company while I breakfast?” She settled reluctantly back in her seat, but resentment
and anger were stirring within her again. They never
breakfasted together. From the first morning of their
marriage he had either risen early, breakfasted and left
the house before she had even stirred, or he slept later
than her and took his breakfast in his room alone. At first
Christiana had worried over that, thinking a wife and
husband should breakfast together, but after a while she’d
been grateful for the respite. Now she was just annoyed
with the man, knowing he was simply using the demand for
her company as an excuse to make her sisters wait longer. Dicky took his time about finishing his meal, but finally
pushed his plate away and rose. He then insisted on walking
her to the parlor and did so at a pace that snails could
have outstripped. Christiana was gritting her teeth by the
time he paused to open the parlor door. “Chrissy!” Suzette started to her feet with relief when
Christiana entered, but stopped abruptly when Dicky
followed. She then watched with obvious frustration as he
ever so slowly walked Christiana to a seat and saw her
settled. “So?” Dicky arched an eyebrow as he took up a position on
the arm of Christiana’s chair where he could loom over her
like a bird of prey about to pounce. He then eyed her
sisters like they were naughty children. “What was so
urgent that you had to arrive here at such an ungodly hour?” Suzette’s gaze slid to Christiana and then to Lisa before
she forced a cool smile and sweetly lied, “Nothing at all.
We just missed Chrissy terribly. It has been more than a
year since your marriage and you have not brought her back
to visit as you promised.” Christiana could feel Dicky stiffen at the chastisement and
sighed inwardly. Here was more he would punish her for
later. “I am an Earl, girl, an important man who is far too busy
to waste time gallivanting about the countryside when there
is work to be done here,” Dicky said stiffly. “Ah, well, we are seeing each other now,” Christiana
murmured to forestall her sister saying anything else. “And
I am very happy to see you. You must tell me everything
that has happened since I left home.” Much to her relief, Suzette caught the hint and immediately
launched into tale after tale of life back on their country
estate. She actually seemed to begin to enjoy the endeavor,
devilment sparkling in her eyes as she recounted who had
married, who hadn’t, and every bit of gossip she had heard
no matter how trivial. As for Lisa, she sat silent, her
worried gaze remaining warily on an increasingly impatient
Dicky as Suzette babbled on. It was a relief to all of them
when he suddenly stood to announce, “I shall leave you
ladies to your nattering then. I have more important issues
to attend to.” On that pompous note, he left them, moving much more
swiftly than he had allowed her to on entering. “Thank God,” Suzette moaned when the door closed, her gay,
trouble-free facade dropping away. Anger immediately
replaced it and she sat forward to demand, “What the devil
is going on, Chrissy? Does he act like that all the time?
My God he was nothing like that when he courted you. He--” “Hush,” Christiana hissed. Standing, she moved swiftly to
the door and knelt to peer out the keyhole. When all she
saw was empty hall, she released a relieved breath and
moved back to her sisters. “How bad is your marriage?” Suzette asked quietly as
Christiana settled on the couch between her sisters. “You
look tired and miserable. He’s not treating you right, is
he?” “Never mind that,” Christiana said wearily. There was
little anyone could do about her situation and discussing
it would merely bring her misery to the surface. It was
easier when she simply didn’t think about it. “What is
going on? Why are you two here?” Suzette and Lisa exchanged a glance and then Lisa finally
spoke up for the first time since their arrival and
announced, “Father has been gambling again.” “What?” Christiana gasped with dismay. “But he promised
never to gamble again after Dicky paid off his last
gambling debts.” It was how she’d ended up married to the man. Her father
had landed them in hot water with one aberrant night of
drinking and gambling. He’d raised what money he could by
selling family heirlooms to meet the debt, but it hadn’t
been enough, and he’d been at a loss as to how to pay the
rest. The creditors had been knocking on the door when
fortune had seemed to smile on them in the form of Dicky.
He’d arrived at Madison Manor with an offer of marriage for
Christiana, and on hearing of their dire straits had
offered to clear the remainder of her father’s debts in
exchange for Christiana’s hand in marriage. To her father’s credit, he’d refused the offer until Dicky
had convinced him that he loved Christiana. Dicky had
claimed to have seen her at the local fair that summer and
spoken to her briefly, which she hadn’t recalled at all.
He’d also claimed he’d been fascinated and found out all he
could about her and that everything he’d learned he’d found
pleasing. His words had been convincing and her father had been
swayed, but despite his dire straits, had insisted that
while he would give his blessing to the union, it was only
if she was willing. Unfortunately, Christiana had been easy
enough to persuade. Dicky was handsome, well off and an
Earl. Any girl would be flattered to be courted by such a
man. And what a courtship! He’d been the sweetest of men,
calling her his little rosebud and romancing her with
touching poems and declarations of undying love. It had all
been rather heady to a simple girl who had spent her life
quietly in the country with only her sisters and one
neighbor boy for company, and in no time at all he’d swept
her off her feet and gained her agreement. Christiana grimaced at the thought of the naïve idiot she’d
been, and now saw that she should have questioned his
motives and insisted on more time to make her decision. But
her father only had two weeks to pay off his gambling
debts, and she’d foolishly believed every word Dicky had
said to her. She’d been sure he must love her and that
there could be no other purpose for his rapturous courting.
After all, what other reason could there be? It was not as
if he knew about the outrageously huge dower that her
mother’s father, Baron Sefton, had bestowed on herself and
her two sisters in his will. That was a family secret. Of course, once they’d married and his behavior had changed
so dramatically Christiana had begun to suspect he’d known
about the dower after all and that gaining it had been the
true target of his courting. She just didn’t know how he
could have learned about it. “Father said he didn’t mean to,” Suzette said unhappily,
drawing Christiana’s mind back to this new problem. “He
feels horrible about what’s happened and has been
scrambling to try to figure out a way to pay off his debts,
but can think of nothing.” Christiana grimaced. He’d felt horrible the last time
too. “When did it happen? And how? He has not even been to
London and there is nowhere near Madison for him to--” “He has been in London this last month,” Lisa corrected
quietly. “Didn’t you know?” “No,” Christiana admitted with dismay. “Why didn’t he come
to see me?” “He did,” Suzette assured her. “In fact it was his original
reason for traveling to London. He was worried because
Dicky hadn’t brought you home to visit, and we weren’t
getting responses to the letters we were sending.” “I haven’t received any letters, and I have been writing
faithfully every week,” Christiana said quietly, anger
beginning a slow burn in her stomach. Not getting responses
to her own letters had left her feeling even more lonely
and depressed. Now it seemed Dicky had somehow been
ensuring none of her letters went out and that she didn’t
receive any in return. What else had the man been doing?
She wondered grimly. “The bastard,” Suzette snapped, looking ready to smack
someone. “You say father came here?” Christiana asked, returning
them to the topic at hand. “Aye,” Lisa murmured, her worried gaze on a still furious
Suzette. “Dicky said you were out at the dressmakers.” “He didn’t tell me,” Christiana said unhappily. “Apparently Dicky welcomed him and took him to the club for
a drink . . . and then on to a gaming hell,” Lisa said. Christiana sat back with dismay. “Father was supposed to return home two weeks ago,” Suzette
continued the explanations in a quiet voice. “When he did
not arrive and we heard no word we began to worry. I sent
messages to the townhouse but got no response, and then
finally decided Lisa and I had best come to London and find
out what had happened.” When she fell silent, Lisa picked up the tale again. “We
arrived in London at dawn and went straight to the
townhouse. We found father there in the library. He was in
his cups and sobbing.” Christiana let her breath out on a sigh and asked with
resignation, “How bad is it?” “Worse than last time,” Suzette said tightly. “Worse?” Christiana could feel the blood rush out of her
face. “He owes less than last time,” Lisa said quickly. “But the
estate is still recovering from his first misstep and there
is no ready cash or even much to sell. If father cannot
come up with the money, he may be forced to sell the family
estate to pay off the debt.” Christiana sucked in a horrified breath. This was worse
than last time. “We shall be ruined once this gets out,” Lisa pointed out
solemnly. Christiana bit her lip, knowing that was true. “How long
does he have to find the money?” “Two weeks,” Suzette answered. “Two weeks,” Christiana breathed with dismay. Her mind
raced around like a rat in a larder for a moment and then
she straightened her shoulders determinedly. “I shall talk
to Dicky. We will have to take some money from my dower and-
-” “No. You paid last time. It’s not fair that you should pay
again,” Suzette argued, and then added grimly, “Besides, it
appears that you are still paying for father’s last
misstep.” Christiana waved that away, knowing Suzette was referring
to how Dicky treated her. Not wishing to discuss it, she
instead addressed her suggestion, “Suzette, you cannot pay.
You cannot claim your dower without first marrying.” “True,” she agreed. “So I shall marry.” “In two weeks?” Christiana shook her head. “You cannot find
a suitable husband in two weeks.” “Who says he has to be suitable?” Suzette asked
dryly. “Dicky was supposedly suitable and that hasn’t
turned out very well, has it?” “But-” “Do not fret, Chrissy,” Suzette interrupted. “I have a
plan. I just need a little help from you to make it work.” “What kind of plan? And what help?” Christiana asked
worriedly. Suzette sat eagerly forward and took her hands. “There are
always Lords who are land and title rich and yet in
desperate need of funds. I intend to find one who is
desperate enough that he will strike a deal with me. In
exchange for marriage and access to three quarters of my
dower, he must agree to allow me access to one quarter of
it to use as I wish, as well as the freedom to live my own
life.” She smiled widely. “All I need is for you to sponsor
our coming out . . .immediately. You have to get us to
balls and teas and soirees and anything else where I can
meet and assess the men available. I will do the rest.” Christiana stared at her sister. Her plan seemed sound
enough. Three quarters of Suzette’s dower was still a
fortune, and certainly the arrangement should leave Suzette
happier than she herself was in her own marriage. In fact,
Christiana actually felt a moment’s envy that her younger
sister would manage such an arrangement. As for Suzette’s
request, sponsoring her for a coming out was little enough
to ask, and certainly much easier than trying to convince
Dicky to allow Christiana access to her funds. While the
man was pleased to waste money on food, wine, and his own
pleasures, when it came to giving her anything as small as
pin money, his fist suddenly spasmed and closed tight. Of
course, Dicky did seem pleased to say no to her when it
came to anything, so convincing him to sponsor her sisters
for a coming out might not be all that easy either, she
thought worriedly. “Chrissy?” Suzette asked anxiously. “You can do that, can
you not?” Christiana’s gaze returned to her younger sister. Seeing
the worry and desperation on her face, she straightened
abruptly. “Certainly I can. I shall make Dicky do it . . .
somehow,” she added in a mutter as she got determinedly to
her feet. She would confront him at once, Christiana thought firmly
as she crossed the room, and found she wasn’t afraid for
the first time in a long time. It wasn’t just because she
was angry about Dicky’s part in her father’s gambling
either. Somehow just learning that her family had tried to
write her and that she wasn’t as alone as she’d felt this
last year was resurrecting her spirit, as was this short
time basking in her sisters’ company. The old Christiana
was awakening inside her as if from a long sleep, and she
was ready for a fight. “What if he says no?” Lisa asked worriedly, bringing her to
a halt as she reached the door. Christiana paused just long enough to force a smile to her
lips, and then glanced back to say lightly, “Then I shall
just have to kill him, won’t I?”
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