What do you think?
Rate this book


481 pages, Paperback
First published August 5, 2014
“I am not trespassing,” Sally said haughtily. “I was simply admiring your foliage.”
The Duke of Belliston arched one brow. “Has anyone warned you that strange plants might have thorns?”
If she had wanted a lesson in horticulture, she would have consulted a gardener. “Has anyone ever told you that it is exceedingly annoying to speak in aphorisms?”
For a moment, a flicker of something that might have been amusement showed in his dark eyes. Amusement, or merely the reflected light of the candle. “Yes,” he said. “It tends to truncate conversation quite effectively.”
Sally wasn’t accustomed to allowing herself to be truncated.
What she needed was a project.
Such as a duke.
The duke was standing all by himself at the back of the room, doing his best to look brooding and mysterious, or as brooding and mysterious as one could in a well-lit ballroom with footmen pestering people by pushing champagne at them.
The man was in dire need of a little friendly advice - and who better than Sally to deliver it? Really, it would be a kindness, not to mention a shot in the eye to Delia Cathcart and Lucy Ponsonby and all the others whispering and gossiping and spreading their ridiculous rumors (p. 123).
"You see, I told you we had experience with this sort of thing. Really, it's quite fortunate that I wandered into your garden. I can't imagine what you would have done without me."
Lucien felt a reluctant smile tweak the corners of his lips. "I can't imagine either."
Ever since Miss Fitzhugh had traipsed into his life, he felt as though he'd been standing at the center of a whirlwind. What would he have done without her? (p. 262)