"A wonderful tale of mistaken identity, bad first impressions, and loving outside social standings."
Reviewed by Jaime Zalinski
Posted July 22, 2011
Romance Historical
Life for a well bred lady in Victorian England holds very
few milestones to look forward to. What happens when you
find out that your breeding is not as great as you and
society have been lead to believe? This is the question
that brought Arianne's world down around her when her
brothers informed her that the uncaring man she called
father was no one to her other then her mother's husband.
The original Duke of Bedford had many faults, including the
inability to sire children. The Duchess relied on a local
farmer to help her with the duty of providing the Duke with
an heir. Now Arianne's brother, William, is the Duke of
Bedford. The issue of her parentage can be nothing more
then a family secret. That is until she decides to tell the
man she believes she loves, the truth before the
announcement of their engagement. After proving her love to
the Baron in the most intimate way, Arianne is devastated
and ruined when the Baron announces his engagement to
another woman. Afraid of the ridicule she will face when the news that she
lost her innocence to the man who did not want to marry
her, Arianne removes her self from society to hide in
seclusion at her brother's London town home. The
opportunity to help discover the murder of a family friend
brings her back in the public eye. It helps that she has to
travel to the United States and away from the gossips of
British Society. The gentleman, if he could be called that,
accompanying her is a Irish rogue with the unique skill of
blending into most environments. Could this lower class man
hold the attributes Arianne craves most in a man? REDEEMING THE ROGUE is a wonderful story that shows us
first impressions are not always what they seem. The story
is witty and mysterious until the last page. The reader
feels for the social implications of Arianne's choices and
understands why she makes certain decisions throughout the
book. Our hero may be rough around the edges but is easy to
cheer on as he tries to wins Arianne's heart. The secondary
characters add humor to otherwise serious matters making
this an enjoyable read.
SUMMARY
Hoping to escape a past indiscretion, Lady Arianne
Chambers, accidental matchmaker and sister to a duke
(William from SEDUCTION OF A DUKE) undertakes the challenge
of transforming an Irish rogue into a proper diplomat so he
can catch an enemy to the Crown. Little did she expect
that the journey would continue beyond etiquette lessons
and into Irish rebellion, gun smuggling and the
assassination of American president James Garfield. Can
she risk everything she holds dear to follow an arrogant
Irishman who has stolen her heart?
Michael Rafferty has little patience for hoity-toity
lessons and less for the upper crust lady assigned to
deliver them. He has a killer to catch and a vengeance to
satisfy. But even the best-laid plans can go awry, when
his heart leads in one direction, and his mission another.
Excerpt"A matchmaker?" His lips quirked in humor for just a
moment, before he straightened. Arianne thought she heard
a seam rip. "My apologies, Lady Arianne. Obviously this
note was intended for another. I hope the true recipient—"
"So on the basis of a nickname, you decided I was ripe
for a tryst?" She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t let the
matter drop. Perhaps his apology seemed insufficient for
the affront to her honor. She should let him make a hasty
departure like Crenshaw and the others.
His eyes narrowed. "There were other considerations…"
"Please tell me of these considerations. I wouldn’t
want others to be under the delusion that I’m available for
illicit sport." Her sarcasm hit its mark.
He hesitated as if debating the wisdom of saying
nothing, or defending his unconscionable behavior. His
eyes raked over her, then a faint smile bloomed on his lips.
"I was told the recipient would be wearing a green
dress. As I assumed the sender was interested in a tryst,
I simply looked for the most attractive woman in the room
wearing the proper color. I chose you." He bowed his
head. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—"
She ignored his transparent flattery. "There are
several other women in green. I saw you speaking to Lady
Trembel earlier, yet you gave the note to me…"
What began as an attempt to correct his foolish
assumption festered into something altogether different.
Had something changed about her since her unfortunate
incident in Vienna? Could complete strangers recognize her
probable shift in society’s acceptance? " Surely," she
pressed, suspicion taking root, "there was something else."
He reflected a moment, then leaned closer. "Lady
Trembel’s scent wasn’t that of the angel’s share."
"Angel’s share?" Her face must have betrayed her
ignorance. Was this was more Irish flattery?
He glanced away and laughed softly before returning his
gaze to her. "The angel’s share is that portion of fine
Irish whiskey that evaporates in the distillation." A
decidedly seductive gleam simmered in his gaze. "It’s been
my experience that women who drink overly much find
themselves in positions that—"
"You believe I’m a drunkard?" She sputtered in
outrage. Her cheeks flamed anew.
He smiled. "Not all would find the scent of whiskey
about a miss as appealing as I, but—"
"I erred in my cologne water!" She insisted perhaps a
bit too loudly. A few heads turned their way. She dropped
her voice. "I thought a stronger base would carry the
florals."
"And a very fine error it was."
The impudent, non-conforming misfit was laughing at
her! She could see his amusement in the creasing about his
eyes, hear the blitheness in the timbre of his voice. The
cad!
"Now if you’ll excuse me," he said. "I should try to
find — "
"May I remind you, sir, that I am the sister of a
duke." She pitched her voice low and cold so he would know
her displeasure. "I’m not certain how a man as common as
yourself gained entrance to this reception, but your
accusations are not appreciated."
He stopped his determined egress. His shoulders shifted
back, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she heard a button bounce
on the floor. He turned, then glared down his decidedly
handsome nose at her.
"I believe I’ve already apologized for my
misapprehensions. My only defense is that I had assumed
your company would be highly desired by any man." His
nostrils flared. "I trust you will forgive such a common
and erroneous assumption." He lifted her fingers as if to
kiss her hand, but she jerked them away, striking his
injured lip in the process.
Fresh blood rose on the wound. More heads turned their
way.
Guilt and shame filled her. She wouldn’t have acted in
such a low-bred manner if she hadn’t been provoked. A
truly noble lady would have risen above the taunt. "I have
a handkerchief," she murmured, opening her reticule.
"No." He reached into a pocket of his ill-fitting
jacket. "I wouldn’t wish my common Irish blood to stain the
linen of a sister of a duke."
He removed a white handkerchief, but the white linen
pulled a red cloth, that was attached to a blue cloth,
which pulled a yellow cloth in succession. Rafferty froze,
the white handkerchief clenched in his hand while the
colored cloths dangled in a nautical line to his pocket.
He swore beneath his breath, something rather derogative
coupled with the name "Phineas."
Abrupt barking laughter sounded from various
directions. Arianne tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal her
own amusement. Rafferty’s glance of anger and
embarrassment seared straight through her levity. She
immediately regretted her unkind words, but he gave her no
time for apologies.
"Good evening, madam," he said, stuffing the colorful
assortment in his pocket. "I trust you will take pleasure
in the likelihood that our paths shall never cross again."
He turned on his heel. "I know I shall."
Of course they will meet again and fall in love and face
a whole host of difficulties together.
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