As one of the world's richest heiresses in 1880, the lovely Francesca Winthrop could have almost anything in the world she wanted. Clamped down for most of her life by her mother's rule about how life was to be lived, all she craved was to live a normal quiet life with a garden and an amiable husband. Maybe, a little bit of freedom and a chance to translate her beloved European fairy tales. That was all and she even found what she thought was the perfect man, her good friend, Randolph to marry.
With her life planned in her head, she had little choice of having that happen if her mother had anything to do with it. Oh no! Nothing but the very best for her daughter and that includes setting her up with an arranged marriage with an English Duke! His title and centuries old bloodline intrigued her mother and what better way for an American family to obtain it than by marriage.
For William Chambers, Duke of Bedford, the only thing that would force him to make an ocean crossing with its bilious effect on his stomach and mind to marry, sight unseen, some vapid American hothouse social climber was money. After the death of his father, the Duke had been shocked to find out the extent of his father's huge debts, primarily incurred by gambling. Left with little choice or face the ruin of his titled estates, he attempted to hide the true nature of his journey. After all, duty was everything, even if it meant he had to marry this "Frosty Franny".
When Alva Winthrop goes full steam ahead to make sure the wedding goes on, Franny's father assures his daughter that she can come back to America if she has a child, Franny decides to do everything possible to make that happen, including using the tricks she reads about in a French courtesan's diary. For his part, the Duke finds out about Randolph and assumes that the only reason Franny needs to get married so quickly is because she is pregnant. No way was he going to get ensnarled by that scam!
This is the first time I have read a book by Donna MacMeans, however, I sure intend to rectify that quickly and look forward to reading her other books, especially The Education of Mrs. Brimley that tells the story of the arrogant Bedford's younger brother, Nicholas. A masterful storyteller with a wicked talent for double entendres, you will love this story of how this unusual couple finds the real person behind their preconceived impressions of the other. The dialogue between the characters truly sparkles with witty bon mots and your will be compelled to read on to find out how Franny plans to seduce the Duke with her fascinating fans and sexy corset. This is one book I wasn't willingly to put down as I just had to keep turning the pages! A truly solid gold Victorian romance!
William Chambers, Duke of Bedford, ascended to the title
upon his fatherโs death, but he also inherited his fatherโs
extensive debts. Desperate to avoid scandal and ruin, he is
willing to go to any lengths โ including marrying, sight
unseen, a reclusive American heiress known as Frosty Franny.
Not pleased to be trapped in an arranged marriage, Francesca
Winthrop conspires to turn lemons into lemonade with the
assistance of a courtesanโs journal.
EXCERPT
With all the malice she could muster, Francesca Winthrop
whacked the wooden croquet ball beneath her foot, sending
her motherโs ball careening across the manicured lawn, over
the edge of the Newport cliffs, and possibly into the
blue-gray waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Pity, it
wasnโt her motherโs head.
โReally, Francesca, that show of spirit was entirely
unnecessary.โ Alva Winthrop signaled one of the dozen
servants standing about for just such an occasion to search
for her ball at the rocky base of the cliff, before feigning
laughter for the benefit of the other society matriarchs
watching the match. โMost women would be positively
thrilled to learn they were about to marry a Duke.โ
โMost women have at least met the man they are to marry, or
had a say in the selection,โ Fran replied, careful to keep
her voice low and her smile in place. Never show
emotion, or risk the scorn that follows. Sheโd been
fed those words in infancy along with her pabulum.
An only child, raised in a lonely edifice to enormous
wealth, she learned her lessons well. A tear, a
stutter in public earned her a slap across the face from her
mother in private. Thus to the others in the game,
Francesca Winthrop maintained a calm faรงade. Deep
inside, however, she screamed her protest.
โI wonโt do this, maman.โ She glanced away, bracing
herself for her motherโs anticipated reprimand.
โIโmโฆIโm in love with someone else.โ
โNonsense.โ Alva smoothed her hands over her white
muslin skirts. โLove has little to do with the
stewardship of great families. Youโve known since
birth that your destiny was to bring a title to the
Winthrops. With your fatherโs money and your new
husbandโs title, youโll be received into the best households
on both continents.โ
โNo, maman, with the influence of your new son-in-law,
youโll be the one received in those best households,โ Fran
said, trying to ignore the stabbing pain caused by her
motherโs lack of consideration. Yet, it had always
been that way. Her opinion in matters of her own
future were โฆ insignificant. Reality constricted her
throat, making words difficult. โI shall be the one
tied to a man I donโt know and whom I donโt love.โ
โWe all make sacrifices, dear. Youโll learn to
adapt. Heโll arrive in two days. Weโll announce
your engagement at the costume ball this Saturday.โ
Three days! Her mother had been planning that ball for
two months, and Fran had been dreading it for at least as
long. Now she would not only have to find the
fortitude to face a room full of people, but an unfamiliar
fiancรฉ as well. Dread, as hard and as solid as one of
her painted croquet balls, fisted into a tight knot in her
stomach.
An errant honey bee buzzed Alvaโs hat, perhaps mistaking one
of the silk roses for the real thing. Alvaโs waved a
gloved hand to chase it away. โI donโt know why you
insist on maintaining those ridiculous beehives. I
certainly wonโt miss them when you move to London.โ
London! Fran hadnโt quite digested news of her
imminent engagement before encountering this second cannon
volley. Sheโd have to move to London and live among
total strangers. The comfortable solitude that sheโd
maintained her entire life would vanish. The knot in
her stomach leapt to her ribcage, inhibiting breath.
She was dizzy, light-headed.
Alva squinted disapproval toward Fran for a moment, then
shifted her gaze, her face brightening. โLook
Simpson has found my ball. Iโll just go see to itโs
proper placement.โ
Francesca forced words past her constricted throat.
They emerged in a harsh whisper, a testament to the
unexpected blow dealt to her future. โWhy now,
Maman? You must have known of this earlier. Why
not wait to tell me in private?โ
Alva Winthrop stopped and turned, her glance stern and
sharp. โ Do try to aim for the wickets, dear.
Itโs the winning that matters, not the course one takes to
get there.โ
Francesca stood paralyzed. For a moment, she
contemplated hitting her bonus ball directly toward her
motherโs heel. The resulting injury might give her
pause over the injury she was causing her daughter.
In her saddened heart, however, she knew that it would
be a worthless gesture. Her mother was impervious to
anotherโs concern.
Not only had her mother not asked about her love interest,
she hadnโt even acknowledged the difficulty and reluctance
Fran had experienced in sharing that information.
Obviously, her only daughterโs personal desires were of
less import than the advantageous placement of a croquet
ball.
Francesca gazed beyond the lawn to the familiar tranquil
Atlantic. A few sails billowed in their escape from
Narraqueswt Harbor. The Fall River steamer, a tiny
spot on the deep blue horizon, chugged along on its daily
foray between Newport and Long Island.
โRandolph,โ she whispered with all the yearning in her
heart. โWhere are you? Why havenโt you
written?โ If ever she needed his comfort and advice,
now was the time. They had only managed to share a few
brief moments upon her return from Paris as he was leaving
for Germany the next day. Still, he had promised to
write every day while he traveled on behalf of her fatherโs
business. Yet not one envelope had arrived since his
departure three months ago. Now she would be pitted
against her mother over plans for her future without even
the written assurance of his devotion. Did he even
know what maman had concocted? If only she could go
to Randolph, speak to him directly.
Facing the vast expanse of the ocean, even her fatherโs
gift of height failed to protect her from feeling small,
insignificant, and utterly alone. Three days!
What if she couldnโt abide the Englishman? Her
mother might not have cared about such things, but this was
not her motherโs life. She must take action.
She must formulate a plan.
โFrancesca, stop dawdling. Weโre all waiting on you,โ
her mother called from the lawn boundary.
For the sake of her mother and appearances, Fran composed
her expression, then turned back toward the game.
Leaning over her mallet, she did as she was told and aimed
her ball for the wickets, but her thoughts focused far away,
on the other side of the ocean.
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