At
the betrothal ball of the man she had expected to marry herself, Lady
Theresa latches on to Damian Ashby, hoping to divert attention from
her own humiliating situation. Of course, she's not seriously
interested because he's a useless London fribble, in her opinion. He
is not favorably impressed with her either.
Still,
she's the daughter of an earl, and he's the heir to her father's
title and estate, so they are destined to spend more time in each
other's company…sooner rather than later. And who knew that the two
of them would develop an unlikely attraction to one another?
But
can a London swell and a country lady ever make their diverse lives
and interests work together?
Damian
Ashby, Viscount Clinton, looked down upon the festive ballroom with a
critical eye as he waited in the reception line. Greek statues and
scrolled Ionic columns, along with draperies of white and gold and a
profusion of candelabras wrapped in ivy, trumpeted the classical
theme. A brief survey of the guests confirmed his suspicion that the
Sedgelys did not socialize in the first circles of the ton.
Except for his cousin, the Earl of Granville, whose heir he was and
at whose behest he had deigned to attend, Damian himself appeared to
be the highest ranked in attendance.
And
frankly, he’d rather be indulging in an intimate dinner and sensual
dessert with his mistress than attending a provincial betrothal ball
held for two people he’d never met.
“Charmed,
I’m sure” he said disdainfully as he greeted his hosts. The pudgy
Mr. Sedgely, a banker, and his horse-faced wife, second cousin to a
baron, socialized on the fringes of theton,
which is why he’d never encountered them previously.
The
balding gentleman waiting to greet him on the next step down
introduced himself as Squire Bromfield, father of the bridegroom. “So
good of you to come,” he boomed, “considering I’ll be your
neighbor one day. Or at least my son will, if I’ve shoved off by
then.”
“Indeed,”
Damian replied, shuddering inwardly at the thought of socializing
with such boorish people. After he inherited, he planned to reside at
Granville Manor for one week annually during the hunting season. The
rest of the year it would be left under the management of a capable
steward while he continued to enjoy the pleasures of civilized
society in London.
He
was calculating the most direct path to the card room when a young
lady pounced on him.
“Why,
I do believe it’s Cousin Damian! How delightful to see you again!”
She
was passably pretty, he thought, although her marine-blue gown was
not in the first stare of fashion. He could find no fault with her
small waist and full breasts, although he personally preferred a more
voluptuous figure. Her hair was too dark a blonde to be in vogue, and
the simple chignon indicated that she had arranged it herself without
the assistance of a maid. But it was her tantalizing eyes that drew
his attention—a deep cerulean blue that reminded him of the
Adriatic Sea and a pleasurable interlude on a beach with a sultry
Greek barmaid during his European tour a few years ago.
Cousin?
She
swatted his arm with her fan.
“You
don’t remember me, do you, Cousin Damian? It has
been an age since your visit to Granville at Christmastime. It was
five or six years, perhaps, but I still had no trouble recognizing
you!”
His
memory yielded the image of a younger version of the girl before him.
Barely out of adolescence, she’d been as provincial as the others
in the tedious party.
“Lady
Theresa,” he said. “How delightful to see you again!”
“Cousin
Theresa,” she insisted. “Strict propriety need not be followed
among relations, you know.”
“Although
a high-stickler would point out our blood relationship is somewhat
diluted,” he reminded her, “our grandfathers being merely cousins
and all.”
She
grinned. “Isn’t it fortunate there are no high-sticklers here?”
The
first notes of a waltz were struck. “What luck!” she said,
pulling him onto the dance floor. “Come dance with me, Cousin
Damian. I do so adore waltzes!”
He
could have—should have—cut her for her impertinence. If he’d
been ambushed in such a manner by any other young lady at a ton
ball, she’d have been dealt a severe set-down. But among a roomful
of provincials, Lady Theresa, as the daughter of an earl, outranked
everyone except her father and himself. And seeing as she was the one
who would be displaced when he inherited her father’s estate, he
decided to ignore her lapse in manners. More or less.
“How
fortunate that we both have this dance available,” he said with a
hint of reproof.
“Oh
la,” she said. “I don’t have so many partners that I must write
down their names. And you just arrived,” she said with a triumphant
smile.
A
country bumpkin, thought Damian in disgust. Bruiting about her own
unpopularity so candidly. She would be a pariah at any civilized
ball.
She
danced surprisingly well for a country girl, he thought as they
whirled around the room. She felt good in his arms and the scent of
her hair wafted up to his nose. Lavender.
Her
astonishing eyes peered up at him, sparkling with interest. Oh no, he
groaned inwardly. Here it comes.
“You
are easily the most refined gentleman here,” she gushed. “Your
apparel outshines even Reese’s, and he is the guest of honor.”
Seeing his puzzled look, she explained. “Reese Bromfield, Squire
Bromfield’s son. The husband-to-be.” She nodded toward a hulky
blond man dancing with a pretty redhead. “That’s Eugenia Sedgely,
his fiancée.”
Was
it only his imagination that her voice shook slightly when she said
that last word?
Theresa comes off as a very strong character, she puts her life on hold to take care of the family house and take care of her father. Seeing as how this is a historical book, a woman putting off finding a husband? Kinda a big thing. Even with everything that happening in her life, she wants to help the other people who are in her care.
Damian is the typical playboy in the time, he doesn't want the responsibility of anything serious. His plans of passing on his inheritance seem better and better with each day that passes. But all of that changes when he gets to know Theresa.
This book is a sweet romance that will bring a smile to your face. Its just the right length that you can read it when you are on break from a crappy day at work! Treasuring Theresa has a recommendation from me!
A
former teacher, Susana is finally living her dream of being a
full-time writer. She loves all genres of romance, but
historical—Regency in particular—is her favorite. There’s just
something about dashing heroes and spunky heroines waltzing in
ballrooms and driving through Hyde Park that appeals to her
imagination.
In
real life, Susana is a lifelong resident of northwest Ohio, although
she has lived in Ecuador and studied in Spain, France and Mexico.
More recently, she was able to travel around England and visit many
of the places she’s read about for years, and it was awesome! She
is a member of the Maumee Valley and Beau Monde chapters of Romance
Writers of America.
Click above for tour stops!
Thank you this looks like a really good book
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