Book review: Sylvester by Georgette Heyer

The backdrop: Endowed with rank, wealth, and elegance, Sylvester, Duke of Salford, has decided to travel to Wiltshire to discover if the Hon Phoebe Marlowe will meet his exacting requirements for a bride. If he doesn't expect to meet a tongue-tied stripling in need of both manners and conduct, he is even more intrigued when his visit causes Phoebe to flee her home. They meet again on the road to London, where her carriage has come to grief in the snow. Yet Phoebe, already caught in one imbroglio, now knows she soon could be well deep in another...

Rating: ***** (Outstanding)

Detailed Review: This book is a masterpiece, a rare gem of novels, that always brings me a smile and more than one laugh. I wish some nice producer one day adapts this book to a television series. It would make a rousing romantic comedy, full of lively characters who jump from one outstanding situation to another.

They were two unlikely people.

Sylvester, Duke of Salford, has it all - looks, wealth, rank, and esteem. He is accomplished to a fault, proud and arrogant of his very being, and exacting in his requirements for his bride.

Phoebe Marlow is a motherless woebegone girl with neither countenance nor deportment. She is a fearless horsewoman, but trembles at unkind words from her stepmother. What she lacks in beauty or manners, she makes it up with her imagination and care for others. And she dreams for the day when she can leave her oppressing childhood home and breathe in her own small cottage and write novels.

They meet.

First, in a ball in London. For Sylvester, it was a forgettable experience when he has to do his duty by standing up for insipid debutantes. Phoebe Marlow is one such duty. For Phoebe, it was an unforgettable experience when the duke uninterestingly dances with her and then cuts her direct at Almack's. Such arrogance! And those wicked eyebrows! Lo and behold, Sylvester is cast as the villain, with a curiously odd name of Ugolino, in Phoebe's debut gothic romance novel.

Their second meeting. Sylvester wishes to marry to provide a companion to his mother and a heir. Although he has drawn a list of five beauties to choose one as his wife, he is intrigued by his mother's confession that in his childhood, she had betrothed him (as a prank) to her late friend's daughter. Phoebe Marlow is to be his intended. Sylvester, without realizing that he had an occasion to meet her before, decides to travel to Wiltshire to look her up as a prospect. Phoebe, chagrined to know from her stepmother, that the duke is going to offer for her decides to elope.

Their third meeting. Phoebe decides to go to London to seek shelter from her grandmother, the famed Lady Ingham. And helping her in this venture is her childhood best friend and neighbor, Thomas Orde. If only Thomas had not managed to overturn the curricle on the way and break his leg, and Sylvester glad at his escape from his regrettable trip had not decided to check up the absconding couple, Phoebe would not have the misfortune to ask help from the very duke she's running away from.

And this is how Phoebe and Sylvester start their romance - from the rustic inn in the snowed countryside, to the scandal-ridden society in London, to a sea-faring journey to France, and back.

Read it to enjoy it!

• The plot: Delightful. It's old wine in an old bottle, but the flavors are amazing.


• Lead characters: Sylvester and Phoebe are loveable. Totally wholesome and delightful.


• Supporting characters: Awesome! They just make up this pot-boiler even crazier and more fantastic; whether they are Sylvester and Phoebe's family members, or their near or distant friends, or total strangers like the innkeeper and her family, or even the French dog, Chien, who is unwittingly embroiled in a humorous incident involving shoe tassels.

• Hotness quotient: The book is more tender than hot. Forget about sex, there is lamentably only one kissing scene in the last paragraph. Sigh!
  

The best scene of the book: In any book, I'm able to figure out the best scenes, but it's hard over here. All the scenes are delightful, especially all the ones with Sylvester and Phoebe. Since the book lacks sexy/hot scenes, I tend to re-read those with Sylvester and Phoebe's tender moments. One such scene is written below, where Sylvester proposes to Phoebe, a botched attempt as you can see:

'Well?'

She turned her head towards the window, startled. She had never heard Sylvester speak so roughly, and wondered why he should do so.

'You may as well tell me. Your face has already informed me that it is not a pleasant missive.'

'No,' she said. 'She supposed me - when she wrote this - to have persuaded Tom to take me home. I think Muker must have encouraged her to think it, to be rid of me. She is very jealous of me. She may even have believed me to be running away with Tom. That - that was my fault.'

'Unnecessary to tell me that! You have a genius for bringing trouble upon yourself.'

She looked at him for a moment, hurt and surprise in her eyes, and then turned away, and walked over to the fire. It seemed so needlessly cruel, and so unlike him, to taunt her when he knew her to be distressed that she felt bewildered. It was certainly a taunt, but there had been no mockery in his voice, only anger. Why he should be angry, what she had done to revive his furious resentment, she could not imagine. She found it a little difficult to speak, but managed to say: 'I am afraid I have. I seem always to be tumbling into a scrape. Hoydenish, my mother-in-law was used to call me, and did her best to teach me prudence and propriety. I wish she had succeeded.'

'You are not alone in that wish!' he said savagely.

The harsh, angry voice was having its inevitable affect on her: she began to feel sick, inwardly shivering, and was obliged to sit down, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

'You tumbled into a scrape as you are pleased to call it, when I first made your acquaintance!' he continued. 'It would be more correct to say that you flung yourself into it, just as you flung yourself aboard that ship! If you choose to behave like a hoyden it is your own affair, but that is never enough for you! You don't scruple to embroil others in your scrapes! Thomas has been a victim, I have been one - my God, have I not! - and now it is your grandmother! Does she cast you off? Do you think yourself hardly used? You have no one but yourself to thank for the ills you've brought on your own head!'

She listened to this tirade, rigid with shock, scarcely able to believe that it was Sylvester and not a stranger who hurled these bitter accusations at her. The thought flitted across her brain that he was deliberately feeding his wrath, but it was overborne by her own anger, which leaped from a tiny spark to a blaze.

He said suddenly, before she could speak: 'No - no! It's of no use! Sparrow, Sparrow!'

She hardly heard him. She said in a voice husky with passion: 'I have one other person to thank! It is yourself, my lord Duke! It was your arrogance that caused me to make you the model for my villain! But for you I should never have run away from my home! But for you no one need have known I was the author of that book! But for you I should not have flung myself aboard that schooner! You are the cause of every ill that has befallen me! You say I ill-used you: if I did you are wonderfully revenged, for you have ruined me!'

To her astonishment, and, indeed, indignation, he gave the oddest laugh.

As she glared at him he said in the strangest voice she had yet heard: 'Have I? Well - if that's so, I will make reparation! Will you do me the honour, Miss Marlow, of accepting my hand in marriage?'

Thus Sylvester, an accomplished flirt, making his first proposal.

Book review: Tall Tales and Wedding Veils by Jane Graves

The backdrop:

MARRY IN HASTE...

Accountant Heather Montgomery is a planner. So never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd run into sexy charmer Tony McCaffrey in Vegas, play lady luck, and celebrate his jackpot with a champagne-soaked night. And she certainly never expected to wake up the next morning married! How could this good girl pick a man whose fridge is empty and whose apartment is a disaster zone, yet still drives her so crazy with lust she can't see straight?

LUST AT LEISURE!

Quickly hitched and happily ditched, Tony can't wait to get back to his playboy ways. But when Heather's family is thrilled that their no-nonsense daughter is finally in love, he proposes a plan: stay married for a month to repay his good luck charm, even though she sterlizes his toothbrush and forbids anything between the sheets. But Heather is more than he bargained for---a sharp-witted, passionate woman who just might turn his near miss into wedded bliss!

Rating: ***** (Outstanding)

Detailed Review: Conscience is a major thing, if one listens to it. The star of this lovely book is conscience.

Heather Montgomery is a no-nonsense, plain-Jane accountant. She dreams of one day finding her safe and dependable man and leaves bad boys like Tony for other women and in her fantasies only. Too bad, she can't avoid a bridesmaid trip with her snotty cousin and her feather-headed girl friends to Las Vegas.

Tony McCaffrey is a typical bad boy who is a walking, talking fantasy of women. He plays the ground and loves his life; more so now when he's on the verge of realizing his dream of owning a bar and grill. He's twenty thousand dollars short of cash, which his friend has promised to loan him. Only now his friend has ditched him at the last moment and Tony decides to try Vegas as a last ditch-effort to win the much-needed cash.

Only he loses. Heather is also not having a great time. The only good point is that she found a ten dollar chip on the floor outside her room.

Tony and Heather bump into each other in elevators. Heather of course recognizes Tony back from Plano, Texas, and is not really surprised when Tony doesn't (she's not in his league of women, after all).

While waiting for elevators, Tony tells Heather about his need for twenty thousand dollars. And Heather convinces him to bet with the ten-dollar chip. They start winning, only Heather decides to go for a risky bet and loses it all. Now, comes the story of conscience-prickings:

1. Heather's conscience pricks when she realizes that her impulsive and hasty bet cost Tony his dream. So she has another go at slot machines with her ten-dollar chip and wins!

2. Tony is ecstatic and decides to celebrate with a smacking kiss, a limo ride, champagne, some heavy petting, and a marriage. Next morning, they wake up sober and decide to annul their regrettable marriage. But wait, a drunk, ecstatic Heather had called up her mother last night to inform on her wedding and all her family is now gathered at her parents' house to welcome the newly wed couple. Now, Tony's conscience pricks him to save Heather and her parents from a major embarassment and play 'house' for a month till her cousin is married.

Then, comes the path to mutual discovery and falling in love. The theme is cliched and has been experimented a lot of times. But the beauty is in its narration---smooth and full of humor---that one just sails to the last page.

• The plot: Cliched plot, excellent narration, superb pace, and funny dialogues. Well worth the money!
• Male and female leads: All women have a little Heather in them to some extent. And they all dream of Tony. Here's wishing for more Tony McCaffreys!
• Supporting characters: Heather's family is hilarious. Her best friend and confidante Alison who is into every pact with her since school, her mom Barbara who keeps dreaming of her daughter's marriage but can't do much about it, her aunt Bev who is bitchy and doesn't mind rubbing it in, her snotty cousin Regina who hides her insecurity behind her perfect looks, perfect fiancee, and barbed remarks, her father Fred who is an ex-police officer and a part-time hunter looking out for the welfare of his daughter. And Tony? Well, he's tight-lipped about his family. Though he didn't have a great childhood under his navy Commander father, his dad still manages to save the day.
• Hotness quotient: Hot. There are three chapters dedicated to their love making. And they are imaginative scenes full with emotions and fun. Yes, sex is fun! You've to read it to find how.

The best scene of the book: Tough choice. But hey, I did mention about sex scenes being fun! How about one of them here to motivate you into reading the book?

He pulled her to the bed, where he stretched out beside her and gave her a leisurely kiss, smoothing his hand over her abdomen. Then he moved his hand lower. Then lower still, until the heel of his hand was resting on her pubic bone. She tensed, holding her breath, and a moment later, he stroked his fingertips between her legs.

No!

She grabbed his hand, stilling it. He looked up, frowing. "What's the matter?"

"It..."

"What?"

"Tickles."

"Oh. Sorry."

He moved his hand to her thigh, caressing her there for a moment until she relaxed again, then moved his fingers back. He pressed them to her and rubbed in little circles, but it wasn't long before she gasped and clutched his hand again.

"Oh, God," she said. "I'm sorry. That still..."

"Tickles."

"Yeah."

"Maybe we'd better go about this differently."

"No. It'll be okay this time. Really. I'll concentrate. Do it again. Maybe harder or something."

He touched her again more firmly, this time kissing her deeply. Heather squeezed her eyes closed and bunched the sheet in her fist, but she couldn't help it. She squirmed away from him again, laughing this time. "Stop. Stop!"

He sat up, throwing his hands in the air. "These are my moves, Heather! They're supposed to leave you gasping for air! Begging for more! You're giving me a complex!"

She giggled.

"And now you're laughing. God." He turned and flopped down on his back. "Well, now you've done it. I am not in the mood anymore."

"Not in the mood?" She glanced down at the contradictory evidence between his legs. "Tony, somebody could shoot you dead and bury you six feet under, and you'd still be in the mood."

"That's residual. From the moment right before you attacked my performance."

She laughed. "Attacked your performance?"

"You know how big my ego is. And you just shot it to pieces. To pieces, Heather." He sighed dramatically. "I'll never be able to have sex again."

"Oh, you poor thing. Sure you will."

"No," he said sadly. "I won't. You've wounded me for life."

She gave him a sly smile. "What would it take for me to convince you that your sexuality isn't gone forever?"

He shrugged and turned away with a hurt expression.

She leaned in and whispered against his ear, "I have an idea."

He flicked his gaze back to her.

She sat up beside him. "What I want you to do first," she said, turning her hand from his shoulder to his wrist, "is put both of your hands behind your head. Beneath the pillow."

With exaggerated reluctance, he did as she said. "I don't know what good this is going to do."

"Oh, you'll see in a minute." She leaned in again, kissed him on the neck, and whispered, "Now, close your eyes."

His eyes drifted closed. She let her gaze drift down that beautiful body and back up again, watching it go rigid with anticipation. She rose to her knees, letting her hands hover over his chest...

And tickled his armpits.

His eyes sprang open. He yanked his arms from beneath the pillow and grabbed for her. Laughing, she squirmed away, but he caught her arm, pulled her back, and pinned her to the mattress.

"Why, you rotten, conniving little---"

"Tony! You're not attacking my performance, are you?"

"You're as crazy as I am. Don't you ever try to say you're not!"

"I am not crazy!" she said. "If I were crazy, I'd have tied you up and then tickled you."

"Now that's a hell of a good idea. Only you're going to be on the receiving end of it."

"Uh-oh. I'm out of here."

She tried to squirm away again, but he grabbed her and pulled her back. She squealed and started to laugh again, and then he was laughing, too, and then he was kissing her and they laughed some more, and then he extinguished the laughter completely with a long, slow, blistering kiss that melted the fight right out of her. The endorphin rush was almost more than she could bear. Tony was something she'd never imagined a man like him could be---sweet and kind and funny---and she wished she hadn't waited so long to be with him like this.

She pushed him to his back again, tracing her fingertip along his jaw. "How about if I do it for real this time?"

"I'm all yours, sweetheart."

As Tony lay back, Heather felt like a starving woman at a smorgasbord---she didn't know where to start first. But she had the feeling that whatever she did, wherever she kissed him, however she touched him, she couldnt' mess things up.

She explored his body in a way she'd never done with a man before, finding all kinds of places that elicited a groan here, a sigh there. With every kiss, every touch, his arousal seemed to grow. Soon she got up the nerve to close her hand around his penis, feeling the length and width of him.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said, his voice hot and breathy. "Touch me."

Book review: Simply Perfect by Mary Balogh

The backdrop: As headmistress of Miss Martin's School for Girls in Bath, Claudia Martin long ago resigned herself to a life without love. Until Joseph, Marquess of Attingsborough, arrives unannounced and tempts her to toss away a lifetime of propriety for an affair that can only lead to ruin, embarking on a plan of seduction that leaves them both yearning for more. But Claudia knows she has no place in Joseph's aristocratic world. And now that world is about to be rocked by a scandal...An arranged marriage, a secret that will shock the ton, and a man from Claudia's past conspire to drive the lovers apart. But Joseph is determined to make Claudia his at any cost---even if that means breaking every rule for a love that is everything he has ever wanted...

Rating: **** (Excellent)

Detailed Review: This book made me cry! Yes, the story was so poignant that it made me cry and laugh with it.

Claudia Martin is a 35-year old, plain spinster, who has devoted her life to establishing a good school for girls. Close to her heart are the charity girls, who have been left destitute by circumstances, but Claudia brings them to her school, gives them good education, and makes them strong and capable enough to charter their lives. She was in love once...but it was a lifetime ago. The love was cruelly spurned by a member of the arisotcaracy and Claudia still carries scars from that. She has resigned herself to be a woman who is neither beautiful nor sexual but she knows as an indvidual she can carve out a successful life, which she has done. Now, her school is charting out a sizeable profit, her students adore her, her staff loves her....what more does she want?

Enters Joseph, Marquess of Attingsborough, a man totally out of her league. A dashing, handsome son of an aging duke, charming to a fault, and sexy as the devil itself. Joseph is requested by Lady Whitleaf (his cousin of a cousin...), who was a former teacher in Claudia's school, to escort Claudia and her two charges to London. He has been to Bath to visit his parents and has no problem in agreeing to the request.

And then starts a tumultous summer in Claudia's life....

Contrary to her expectations, Claudia finds the marquess a knowledgeable, charming, and caring gentleman who has his own agenda in enquiring about his school. He is the doting father of a love child, Lizzie, who is blind and motherless. Both Joseph and Lizzie need Claudia in their lives.

Contrary to his expectations, Joseph finds the severe headmistress to be a woman of passion, intelligence, and love. He "dreams of love, of a family--- wife and children---which is as close and as dear to him as the beating of his own heart." Well, Claudia is the answer to his dreams.

But the path to heaven is paved with obstacles--- Claudia's ex-lover returns to claim her love, Joseph is engaged to be married to another lady---a member of his aristocratic world. And Lizzie? How would the ton react to a gentleman's open acceptance to his love child, forget about building a home with her?

The story reminds one of hope, finding love, and overcoming obstacles in the pursuit of happiness.

• The plot: Outstanding. The story involving a man, a woman, and a blind child will move you. However, I do believe that some procrastination is done toward the end of the book, especially when dealing with the other man and woman in Claudia and Joseph's lives.


• Male and female leads: What strikes me is how differently Ms Balogh has written the main characters the two books, which I've reviewed so far (Slightly Dangerous and Simply Love). Usually, most authors have their favorite types of characters. Except a few traits, more or less the main heros and heroines remain the same from story to story (even to the extent of their hair and eye colors:). Ms Balogh has captured Claudia and Joseph in a very different light from Christine and Wulfric. While Christine is a bubbling, happy personality, Claudia is a severe headmistress with less frivolity. While Wulfric is a deep, silent, and totally aristocratic character, Joseph is a doting father who is always ready with a smile.


• Supporting characters: You will fall in love with Lizzie. She will break you heart. The rest of the characters can be dealt without, but I guess Ms Balogh wanted to revisit as many as possible because this book is her last one in Miss Martin's School for Girls Quartet of novels.


• Hotness quotient: Hotter than Slightly Dangerous.

The best scene of the book: All the scenes with Lizzie are excellent. But my favorite is the following lovemaking scene between Joseph and Claudia:

"Claudia," he said, lifting his head a few inches from hers, "I want you to know that you are beautiful. You think you must be unlovely because circumstances once forced an essentially weak man to leave you and because you are now in your middle thirties and unmarried and a schoolteacher. You think it impossible that any man could find you sexually appealing any longer. You probably even tell yourself that last evening happened only because I guessed I would not be free today to pursue our relationship further. You are wrong on every count. I want you to know that you are incredibly beautiful---because you are the product of who you have been and become in over thirty years of living. You would not be as beautiful to me if you were younger, you see. And I want you to know that you are endlessly appealing sexually."

She gazed up at him.

"This appealing." He took one of her hands in his and spread it, palm in, against the bulge of his erection.

"Oh," she said.

"Endlessly appealing," he said.

Her hand slid to her lap, and he reached up both hands to remove all the pins from her hair. She was going to have to repair it later, she thought, without benefit of a brush or a mirror. But she would think of that later.

"It is a crime," he said, as her hair fell in heavy waves over her shoulders, "to dress this hair as ruthlessly as you do, Claudia." He took her hands in his and drew her to her feet. "You are not my dream woman. You are right about that. I could never have dreamed you, Claudia. I am in awe. I am humbled."

She gazed into his eyes to detect irony, or at least humor, there, but she could see neither. And then she could see nothing very clearly at all. She blinked away tears. And then he leaned closer and licked them away with his tongue before drawing her closer and kissing her deeply.

She was beautiful, she told herself as they undressed each other slowly, pausing frequently to caress or embrace each other. She was beautiful. She ran her palms over the muscles and light hairs of his chest after removing his evening coat and waistcoat, his elaborately tied neckcloth, and his shirt. And he moved his hands all over her before cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs, and then bending his head to take them, one at a time, into his mouth and suckling her so that raw desire stabbed downward into her womb and along her inner thighs.

She would not feel self-conscious or inadequate. She was beautiful.

And desirable.

And she was not the only one who was beautiful.

She twined her arms about his neck, pressed her full naked length against his, and found his mouth with her own. When his tongue pressed into her mouth she sighed. He was right, there were perfect moments even though they were both pulsing with need.

"I think," he said, drawing back his head to smile at her, "we had better make use of that bed. It will be more comfortable than the ground was last night."

"But narrower," she said.

"If we were planning to sleep, perhaps," he agreed, smiling at her in such a way that she felt her bare toes curl on the hard floor. "But we are not, are we? It is quite wide enough for our purpose."

He drew back the blankets, and she lay down on the sheet and lifted her arms to him.

"Come," she said.

He came down on top of her and she spread her legs and twined them about his. They were both ready. He kissed her and murmured low endearments against her ear. She kissed him back and twined her fingers in his thick hair. And then he slid his hands beneath her, she tilted herself to him, and he came inside her.

His size still shocked her. She inhaled slowly as she adjusted her position to allow him full access, and closed her inner muscles around him. There could surely be no lovelier feeling in the world.

Though perhaps there could. He withdrew from her and pressed deep again and repeated the action until she could feel his rhythm and match her own to it and revel in the sheer carnality of their coupling. There could be no lovelier feeling than this---both during the first few minutes of controlled pleasure and during the final minute of deeper, more urgent lovemaking as the climax neared.

And then it came---for both of them at exactly the same moment, and she opened to the outpouring of love and gave back in equal measure, and that was the loveliest feeling of all, though it was almost beyond feeling and well beyond rational thought or words.

She was beautiful.

She was desirable.

And finally...

Ah.

Finally she was simply woman.

Simply perfect.

Book review: Slightly Dangerous by Mary Balogh

The backdrop: Meet the Bedwyns --- six brothers and sisters --- men and women of passion and privilege, daring and sensibility... Enter their dazzling world of high society and breathtaking seduction... where each will seek love, fight temptation, and court scandal... and where Wulfric's story finally comes to life. Eldest son, head of the Bedwyn family, he is cool, arrogant, mysterious, and...

Slightly Danagerous

All of London is abuzz over the imminent arrival of Wulfric Bedwyn, the cold-as-ice Duke of Bewcastle, at the most glittering social event of the season. But on this dazzling afternoon, only one woman could capture his attention---and she was the only female in the room who wasn't even trying. Christine Derrick is intrigued by the handsome duke... all the more so when he invites her to become his mistress. What red-blooded woman wouldn't enjoy a tumble in the bedsheets with a consummate lover---with no questions asked. An independent beauty, Christine confounds Wulfric at every turn. Yet even as he vows to seduce her, something strange and wonderful is happening. Now for a man who thought he'd never lose his heart, nothing less than love will do...

Rating: ***** (Outstanding)

Detailed Review:

Wulfric Bedwyn, the Duke of Bewcastle, is as different from Christine Derrick, a 29-year old school teacher and a widow, as chalk and cheese. He's the wealthiest, loftiest, and haughtiest peer who has ice water flowing in his veins, while she's the humblest and most cheerful person to be found who does not mind laughing at herself.

Cut to Schofield Park in Gloucestershire:

A betrothal party which Wulfric accepts out of sheer boredom and Christine is made to accept to even out the numbers. A secret wager is proposed; the winner will be the young lady who can engage the Duke of Bewcastle for an hour. Someone bids of Christine. So she draws the attention of the duke. Only she needn't have tried. The duke already has his eyes (and his "hateful" quizzing glass) on the very improper Mrs. Derrick. She's someone who should be tolerated and avoided at all costs. However, what caught them unaware was the sexual attraction towards each other.

Wulfric propositions Christine to be his mistress. The proposal is rebuffed. Apologies are made and accepted. However, a passionate coupling during a ball makes them realise that their feelings may be deeper than they thought.

When Wulfric proposes a marriage, Christine rejects him again. Who would say yes to the following words? "I find myself unable to stop thinking about you. I have asked myself why I offered to make you my mistress rather than my wife and can find no satisfactory answer. There is no law to state that my position demands I marry a virgin or a lady who has not been previously married. There is no law that states that I must marry my social equal. And if your childless state after a marriage of several years denotes an inability to conceive, then that is no prohibitive impediment either. I have three younger brothers to succeed me, and one of them already has a son of his own."

And how could the proud Duke of Bewcastle forget these humiliating words of rejection? "Can you? A husband with a warm personality and human kindness and a sense of humor? Someone who loves people and children and frolicking and absurdity? Someone who is not obsessed with himself and his own consequence? Someone who is not ice to the very core? Someone with a heart? Someone to be a companion and friend and lover?"

Cut to London:

Wulfric and Christine cannot stop thinking about each other. They meet again in a wedding and Wulfric stars courting Christine in a dignified and ducal way, of course. He is her reluctant knight in shining armor, rescuing her from a persistent suitor and when she's dripping wet and cold after falling accidentally in the Serpentine while retrieving a lady's glove. Wulfric asks Christine to reconsider his proposal and see him as the man he is by accepting an invitation to Lindsey Hall, where his family is gathering and he's inviting her family just for her sake.

Cut to Lindsey Hall:

Wulfric and Christine fall in love. Beautiful dialogues, splendid settings, and soulful love. Added to the picture are amusing ancedotes by Duke's family members, exposure of the real "culprit" behind Christine's unfortunate past, and glance at Wulfric - the man behind the duke.

The book is splendid. It reminded me of "Pride and Prejudice." The verbal clashes, the inner battle, and the passion....Oh yes! The passion behind every deed and action. It's what a love story is about - raising above the petty perceptions based on outer appearance and recognizing, accepting, and loving the real selves. There are only two love scenes in the book, but they are enough. They give warmth to the story and move the story forward, rather than just making the book into a "soft porn," which historical romances are occasionally blamed to be.

• The plot: Fantastic. Not even a single word is out of place.
• Male and female leads: Wholesome. You will fall in love with Wulfric and Christine.
• Supporting characters: Sufficient. They do not hinder the story or deviate the focus from the main characters.
• Hotness quotient: Attention is paid to emotions, not lurid details behind the act.

The best scene of the book: Very hard to decide. In the end, I've written below one of my favorite, hilarious scenes. For the rest, please read the book:

"I am not attracted to you!" she cried.

"Are you not?" He raised one supercilious eyebrow and then his quizzing glass. "You have sexual relations, then, with every dancing partner who invites you to accompany him to a secluded spot?"

Fury blossomed in her. And it focused upon one object.

"That," she said, striding toward him, "is the outside of enough!"

She snatched the quizzing glass out of his nerveless hand, yanked the black ribbon off over his head, and sent the glass flying with one furious flick of her wrist.

They both watched it twirl upward in an impressively high arc, reach its zenith between two trees, and then begin its downward arc---which was never completed. The ribbon caught on a high twig and held there. The glass swung back and forth like a pendulum a mile off the ground---or so it seemed to Christine.

She was the first to speak.

"And this time," she said, "I am not going up for it."

"I am relieved to hear it, ma'am," he said, his voice sounding as frosty as she had ever heard it. "I would hate to have to carry you all the way to the house in another ruined dress."

She turned her head to glare at him.

"I am not attracted to you," she said. "And I am not promiscuous."

"I did not believe you were," he assured her. "That, in fact, was my very point."

"I daresay," she said, looking ruefully up at the quizzing glass, which was now swaying gently in the breeze, "you will raise an eyebrow when we return and an army of gardeners will rush out here to rescue it. You will not be able to raise your quizzing glass, will you? Though I daresay you have an endless supply of them."

"Eight," he said curtly. "I have eight of them---or will have when that particular one is back in my keeping." And he strode away from her.

For a moment Christine thought that she was being abandoned for her sins. But then she realized that he was headed for the old oak tree in puruit of his quizzing glass. He went up the tree as he had come down the slope from the wilderness walk---with ease and elegance. Her heart was in her mouth by the time he was high enough to reach for his glass, but it was too far from the trunk, and he had to sit on a branch and edge his way out toward it.

"Oh, do be careful!" Christine cried, and set both hands over her mouth.

"I always am." He unhooked the ribbon, dropped it and the glass for her to catch, and sat there looking at her. "Always. Except, it would seem, where you are concerned. If I were careful, I would stay here, just where I am, until you had returned safely to Gloucestershire. If I had been careful, I would have avoided you at Schofield Park as I would avoid the plague. Earlier this year I would have shut myself up inside Bedwyn House after Miss Magnus's wedding until I was sure you were at least fifty miles on your journey home. After one aborted plan to marry when I was twenty-four, I gave up all idea of marriage. I have not looked for a bride since then. If I had, she most certainly would not have been you. I would have been very careful to choose altogether more wisely. Indeed, you are the very antithesis of the woman I would have chosen."