Even a confirmed bachelor can meet his match.Because sometimes fairy tales do come true...
OF ALL THE FABLED TREASURES Bella Jones feels like a fish out of water in civilized England. Raised abroad by her explorer father, she's amused by the very proper manners of the nobility. Nevertheless, to save her younger siblings from ruin, she must infiltrate a ducal household in order to find the map to an ancient treasure trove. Alas, the haughty, handsome duke stands in her way...unless she can tame his beastly temper, that is.
THE MOST PRECIOUS ONE IS LOVE Miles Grayson, the Duke of Aylwin, prefers antiquities to, well, everything else. Especially prying females with their irksome questions. But Bella's blue eyes and beguiling smile are improbably charming, and the temptation of her kiss is impossible to resist. As the pair is swept into a mystery that reaches back to their childhoods, Miles realizes that Bella has made the rarest discovery of all-the key to his heart...
The Cinderella Sisterhood series is:
"Filled with romance [and] breathtaking passion."-Night Owl Reviews
"Magical."-Once Upon a Romance
"Sensual...engaging...beautiful."-RT Book Reviews
Release date:
November 3, 2015
Publisher:
St. Martin's Publishing Group
Print pages:
352
Reader says this book is...: entertaining story (1) satisfying ending (1) sex scenes (1)
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Clarissa, the Countess of Milford, was sorely in need of a project.
Seated at the breakfast table, she buttered a slice of toast while reflecting on the dilemma. She had risen from the ashes to marry an earl. Then, as a young widow, she had enjoyed a scandalous love affair with a prince. She had led a full life as a doyenne of London society. Now, her fondest ambition was to give other women a chance at happiness, too.
Clarissa reached for the morning newspaper. Turning the pages to the gossip column, she scanned the names of notable debutantes who had attended the previous night’s ball. Those pampered ladies, however, stirred no interest in her.
She was hoping to find mention of a lowly chaperone or a penniless companion. Such women were the forgotten of society, too often ignored or mistreated. They were wallflowers doomed to spinsterhood by undeserved misfortune.
Surely there had to be one in need of a matchmaker.
In the few weeks since the start of the season, Clarissa had searched in vain for the perfect girl. There had been several possibilities, but none had seemed quite right. None had stirred a flash of intuition in her. And none had inspired her to lend out the enchanted garnet slippers.
Sipping cream tea from a blue porcelain cup, Clarissa finished reading the news sheet. As she was closing it with a sigh, a man stepped into the dining chamber. Hargrove was the quintessential butler in a black tailcoat, pristine gloves, and cropped white hair. His harsh, stoic features masked his inner thoughts.
Clarissa set down her teacup and regarded him with great interest. He never disturbed her breakfast without good cause.
Hargrove reached the linen-draped table and inclined his head in a bow. “Madam, the one you were seeking has returned to England.”
Clarissa gazed up at him in perplexity. Hargrove was a man of few words, and it took a moment to grasp his meaning. Then a frisson of interest prickled her skin. Pushing back her chair, she rose to her feet. “Isabella Jones? Are you quite certain it’s she?”
“Indeed.” Hargrove stepped forward to hand her a folded paper. “This arrived from Oxford not ten minutes ago.”
The red wax seal had been broken, for the letter was addressed to Hargrove. The cheap paper felt rough to the touch. Opening it, Clarissa scanned the cramped penmanship, and the message brought a delighted smile to her lips.
“Most extraordinary,” she said, returning the letter to the butler. “Miss Jones has been abroad for most of her life. For her to return now, and still unmarried at her advanced age … well, I must confess that I never imagined your search would be so fruitful. Or so swift.”
“Perhaps, my lady, some things are fated.”
Not for the first time, Clarissa wondered if Hargrove knew more than he let on. Although he was her most loyal servant, she had never revealed to him the mystical power of the garnet slippers. That secret had been entrusted to her long ago, when Clarissa had been an orphaned girl, disinherited by her wealthy stepmother and ridiculed by her two stepsisters. At the lowest moment of her life, banished to the kitchen as a servant after her dear papa’s death, Clarissa had taken pity on a Gypsy crone who had come begging at the back door. She had fed the old woman a hot meal, and in return, the Gypsy had presented her with the exquisite beaded shoes.
The slippers would fit only a girl who was worthy of true love.
Clarissa left the breakfast table and glided to the tall window overlooking the street. She gazed down at the carriages and pedestrians for a moment, then turned back to the butler. “I’ve another mission for you,” she said. “This one will require considerable finesse. The Duke of Aylwin must be convinced that he is in dire need of an assistant. Discreetly, of course.”
“At once, madam.”
With a bow, Hargrove departed the dining chamber. Clarissa knew that she could depend on him to take care of the matter. He had a far-flung web of contacts worthy of a master spy for the Crown—indeed, that had been his vocation during the Napoleonic wars.
Her thoughts returned to the pleasure of the unexpected news. At last she had found the perfect wife for the reclusive Duke of Aylwin. Someone who could entice him out of his beastly guise and back into the world of the living.
At least she hoped so.
Would the slippers fit? Would Miss Isabella Jones become the newest member of the Cinderella Sisterhood?
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