"Is his lovely "wife" a manipulator or a desperate survivor?"
Reviewed by Suan Wilson
Posted August 24, 2009
Romance Historical
Miss Emily Grey's lies have successfully installed her into
the prominent Leland family. They believe her to be their
son's widow whom he wed while he served in India. Emily's
quiet and reserved behavior endears her, as well as her
reluctance to accept an allowance and a new wardrobe. When
her "husband" returns from the dead, Emily waits for him to
expose her. Her luck holds as he has limited amnesia from
his war wounds. Captain Matthew Leland played the dutiful and good son
until he thought he would explode. Matthew joined the army
and reveled in the freedom it allowed him. His bravery is
noted, but his recklessness leads to arrogance. A terrible
and tragic mistake occurs, making him review his choices.
After a brutal battle, he receives a severe wound. When
Matthew realizes the army listed him as dead, he races home
to his grieving family, only to come face to face with his --
wife? Matthew decides not to expose Emily until he can determine
her motives. She proves to be an excellent actress having
deceived everyone for a year. Matthew loves matching wits
with her and finds himself falling under her spell. Ms. Callen engages readers in Emily and Matthew's seductive
dance as Emily's true identity is shrouded in mystery. The
clues unfold with slow precision leaving readers wavering.
Is Emily a schemer or a desperate survivor?
SUMMARY
The prodigal returns . . . It's an absolute scandal when Captain Matthew Leland
arrives at Madingley Court. Presumed dead in battle, his
sudden appearance gives the ton quite the shock. But no one
is more surprised than Matthew, because waiting for him at
home is a bewitching, blue-eyed beauty - and she claims to
be his wife! Miss Emily Grey was alone in the world when a knight in
shining armor came to her rescue, claimed her heart, and
then disappeared. But now her little white lie, a desperate
act of self-preservation, has come back to haunt her. Her
husband, once a far-off fantasy, is now a flesh-and-blood
man who insists she share his bed . . . Matthew has no memory of any marriage to this scheming
seductress, and he's determined to expose her in every way.
But a life with the exquisite Emily will prove
irresistible . . . and a marriage of deception will become
a marriage of sweet, sweet surrender.
ExcerptEmily Grey opened her eyes, thinking groggily that she was
supposed to be in the drawing room. Instead she was lying on
her back, beneath the canopy of a bed—in her husband’s bedroom.It all came to her suddenly, and her wary gaze found the man
who’d brought her here, who now watched her after his
pleasant greeting. The dead man she’d claimed as her husband. She’d thought she’d become a strong woman, but his entrance
into the drawing room had stunned her so that she’d been
speechless, unable to think about what to do. She’d fully
expected to find herself tossed from the house. But he hadn’t denounced her. When he’d said he’d lost part
of his memory, her relief had been so absolute she must have
fainted. How appallingly weak of her. Weakness was a
liability; only her strength and her wits would see her
through this now. She found herself studying Captain Matthew Leland, trying to
remember the man she’d known for only a few hours not quite
two years ago, the man whose death she’d used for her own
convenience. But he wasn’t dead. He was very much alive, and alone with
her in the bedroom they were supposed to share as husband
and wife. But he wasn’t her husband. She wouldn’t panic. This rare illness of his had given her
the chance to continue as his wife. She was strong now, and
had learned she was capable of doing terrible things in
order to survive. And she would survive this. “Matthew?” His name came out in a feigned whisper of disbelief. Casually he leaned against the bedpost, arms folded across
his chest, and a small smile turned up his lips. He was a
handsome man, as she’d thought from the first moment she’d
seen him on a boat in the stormy English Channel. He had
dark, auburn hair that glistened by lamplight. His amused
eyes were hazel, not just one color, but changeable the more
she looked at him. When she’d first met him, she’d thought
his eyes intense, as if he would focus only on her whenever
they spoke together. With a classically square jaw and thin
lips, he was the picture of what a handsome man should look
like. He was still broad with muscle, perhaps even more so
since he’d been serving as a soldier in India. His coat
almost seemed too tight across his shoulders, as if he
hadn’t had time to purchase a new one since he’d been back. Well, of course, he hadn’t. He’d rushed straight from the
ship to tell his parents that he was alive—only to find a
wife he didn’t remember. What would his wife do? Without a second thought, she flung herself from the bed and
into his arms. He didn’t even stagger, so strong was he. She
thought he hesitated, but at last his arms came around her,
and she was enveloped by warmth—but not security. She would
never delude herself. She’d grown up thinking that marriage
meant security, but she’d found it herself, without needing
an actual husband. She’d learned never to rely on anyone else. At last she leaned back to look up at him, smiling with
happiness, forcing tears to glisten in her eyes. “Matthew!”
She repeated his name with gladness and joy. He was smiling down at her, which gave her some ease, but he
studied her face closely. Should she kiss him, distract him
from thinking too deeply? She was fully prepared to do what
was necessary, but…something stopped her. “They called you Emily,” he said slowly, as if testing out
her name on his tongue, his voice a deep rumble of masculinity. She grinned as her hands stroked down his shoulders. “I
was Emily Grey, but you made me a Leland.” She let
her smile fade. “But now I don’t know what to do. I want to
show my happiness for your safe return, and cry at the same
time. Do you truly remember nothing?” He shook his head. “A fine homecoming for a wife who hadn’t
allowed herself to hope I would return.” His hands slid down her back slowly, coming to rest on her
waist. She’d wanted to distract him, but strangely, just his
touch was distracting her. She could not risk such a mental
failing. “How could I hope?” she asked, fingering his lapels. “They
said you were dead. I was ill when your mother told me. Even
now I remember how lost I felt. But to you, I am just a
newly introduced stranger.” As a tear fell from her lashes,
she was grateful for such a mask behind which to hide.
Though she was playing with fire, she reached to touch his
cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and roughness of stubble. Suddenly, his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her even
more intimately against him. His gaze was centered on her
mouth. He thought she was his wife. He could claim his marital rights. She found she couldn’t breathe, her breasts rising and
falling against the hard wall of his chest. Though he was
not an exceptionally tall man like his cousin the duke, he
still leaned over her, powerful and intimidating. If he ever
remembered everything— He bent even closer, his mouth just above hers. She felt his
breath, knew an intense ache that she couldn’t identify. To
her surprise, at the last second he turned his head and
pressed his warm lips to her cheek. He let her go so quickly
that she stumbled back against the bed.
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