She’s been taught that pleasure is sinful…Now Miss Lily Beecham is determined to find out for herself!
A chance meeting with a viscountess, and Lily is invited to the ball. Freed from dowdy gowns and worthy reading, Lily charms Society. Except for the cold, aloof–and wildly handsome–Mr. Jack Alden.
Lily soon learns that Jack’s cool demeanor is belied by the warmth of his kiss. But at the end of the Season she must return to bleak normality. Unless wicked Mr. Alden can save her from a future of good behaviour.
A chance meeting with a viscountess, and Lily is invited to the ball. Freed from dowdy gowns and worthy reading, Lily charms Society. Except for the cold, aloof–and wildly handsome–Mr. Jack Alden.
Lily soon learns that Jack’s cool demeanor is belied by the warmth of his kiss. But at the end of the Season she must return to bleak normality. Unless wicked Mr. Alden can save her from a future of good behaviour.
EXCERPT
“If you do not enjoy music, Mr. Alden, then I confess I am curious to hear why you would attend a musical evening.”
He rolled his eyes. “In fact, I do like music. But my mother will not forgive me for eschewing the operas that she so admires. I find that sort of entertainment too . . . tempestuous.”
“I see,” Lily said reflectively. “Not having experienced the opera myself, I must reserve judgment. Still, one wonders if something other than the music drew your interest here tonight.”
He stiffened, obviously a little puzzled by her hostility. “You are very perceptive, Miss Beecham.” He glanced after Lady Dayle. “I find that I’m quite interested in the Evangelicals. I would like to know more about them.”
Lily lifted her chin. “We are not specimens to be examined, Mr. Alden.”
“Nor do I think so,” he replied easily. “My brother mentioned their works and their intriguing notions on how to reform society.” He shrugged. “I am here to learn.”
“You chose well, then. There are several influential Evangelicals here tonight.” She nodded across the room. “Mr. Macaulay, in fact, would be an ideal person for you to speak with. I daresay he can tell you everything you need to know.” She smiled ingratiatingly. “He looks to be free right now.”
“Yes, he does indeed.” He smiled and she received the distinct impression that he was trying to win her over. “But I came over here seeking a restful companion.” His gaze wandered briefly over her. As if he had physically touched her, Lily felt her skin twitch and tingle in its wake. She had to fight to keep him from seeing how he affected her. “May I say,” he continued with an incline of his head, “that I could not have found a lovelier one.”
“Thank you,” she kept her tone absent, as if his compliment had not set off a warm glow in her chest. “I should think that this line of inquiry is very different from your usual research? Your mother mentioned that you are a notable scholar.”
He nodded.
“You mentioned the ancients at our late supper a few days ago. Is that your area of specialty?”
“Yes, ancient civilizations.”
She eyed him shrewdly. “I imagine you find it much easier to shut yourself up and study people of long ago than to deal with them in person. Real people can be so . . . tempestuous.”
That sardonic smile appeared. Lily’s heart jumped at the sight of it. “I do get out and amongst people on occasion, Miss Beecham. Thank goodness for it too; I would not have missed making your acquaintance for the world.”
She ignored the good humor in his voice and let her gaze drop to his injured arm. “Yes, but I do hope you did not strain your arm in doing so.”
“No, it is fine, thank you. I should be able to remove the sling in a week or two.”
“When your mother told me of your profession, I asked her if you had sustained your injury in a fall from a library stepstool.”
Mr. Alden choked on a sip of his wine. Lily saw his jaw tighten and when he spoke, his light tone had been replaced with something altogether darker.
“No. Actually I was shot—while helping to prevent a group of thieves from making off with some valuable antiquities.”
“So Lady Dayle tells me! I was quite amazed, and a little thrilled, actually.” She smiled brightly at his reddening countenance. “You give me hope, you see.”
“Hope?” he asked, and his voice sounded only slightly strangled.
“Indeed. For if a quiet scholar like you can find himself embroiled in such an adventure, then perhaps there is hope for a simple girl like me as well.”
It was a struggle, she could tell, but still he retained his expression of bland interest. Curse him.
“Do you crave adventure, Miss Beecham?” he asked.
“Not adventure, precisely.”
“Travel perhaps? A flock of admirers?” He was regaining his equilibrium, fast. “Or perhaps your simple tastes only crave dessert?” He flagged down a passing footman with a tray of pastries.
Lily had to suppress a smile. This oh-so-polite battle of wit and words was by far the most fun she had had in ages. She eyed the footman and decided to take the battle to the next level. She selected a particularly rich looking fruit-filled tart. “Travel,” she mused. “That would be delightful. But since I have it on good authority that I am of no age or situation conducive to easy arrangements, I suppose I must wait until I am older.” She raised her tart in salute. “And stouter.”
Her eyes locked with his while she took a large bite, only to gradually close in ecstasy. She chewed, sighed and savored. “Oh, I must tell your mother to try one—the burnt orange cream topping is divine!” Breathing deep, she held her breath for several long seconds before slowly exhaling. She opened languid eyes, taking care to keep them half hooded as she glanced again at Mr. Alden.
And promptly forgot to take a second bite. That had done it. At last she had cracked his polite façade. He stared, the green of his eyes nearly obliterated by pupils dilated with hunger. It wasn’t the tart that he hungered for, either. His gaze was fixed very definitely on the modest décolletage of her gown.
“So if travel must be a delayed gratification,” he said hoarsely, then paused to clear his throat. “What will you substitute, Miss Beecham?”
“If you do not enjoy music, Mr. Alden, then I confess I am curious to hear why you would attend a musical evening.”
He rolled his eyes. “In fact, I do like music. But my mother will not forgive me for eschewing the operas that she so admires. I find that sort of entertainment too . . . tempestuous.”
“I see,” Lily said reflectively. “Not having experienced the opera myself, I must reserve judgment. Still, one wonders if something other than the music drew your interest here tonight.”
He stiffened, obviously a little puzzled by her hostility. “You are very perceptive, Miss Beecham.” He glanced after Lady Dayle. “I find that I’m quite interested in the Evangelicals. I would like to know more about them.”
Lily lifted her chin. “We are not specimens to be examined, Mr. Alden.”
“Nor do I think so,” he replied easily. “My brother mentioned their works and their intriguing notions on how to reform society.” He shrugged. “I am here to learn.”
“You chose well, then. There are several influential Evangelicals here tonight.” She nodded across the room. “Mr. Macaulay, in fact, would be an ideal person for you to speak with. I daresay he can tell you everything you need to know.” She smiled ingratiatingly. “He looks to be free right now.”
“Yes, he does indeed.” He smiled and she received the distinct impression that he was trying to win her over. “But I came over here seeking a restful companion.” His gaze wandered briefly over her. As if he had physically touched her, Lily felt her skin twitch and tingle in its wake. She had to fight to keep him from seeing how he affected her. “May I say,” he continued with an incline of his head, “that I could not have found a lovelier one.”
“Thank you,” she kept her tone absent, as if his compliment had not set off a warm glow in her chest. “I should think that this line of inquiry is very different from your usual research? Your mother mentioned that you are a notable scholar.”
He nodded.
“You mentioned the ancients at our late supper a few days ago. Is that your area of specialty?”
“Yes, ancient civilizations.”
She eyed him shrewdly. “I imagine you find it much easier to shut yourself up and study people of long ago than to deal with them in person. Real people can be so . . . tempestuous.”
That sardonic smile appeared. Lily’s heart jumped at the sight of it. “I do get out and amongst people on occasion, Miss Beecham. Thank goodness for it too; I would not have missed making your acquaintance for the world.”
She ignored the good humor in his voice and let her gaze drop to his injured arm. “Yes, but I do hope you did not strain your arm in doing so.”
“No, it is fine, thank you. I should be able to remove the sling in a week or two.”
“When your mother told me of your profession, I asked her if you had sustained your injury in a fall from a library stepstool.”
Mr. Alden choked on a sip of his wine. Lily saw his jaw tighten and when he spoke, his light tone had been replaced with something altogether darker.
“No. Actually I was shot—while helping to prevent a group of thieves from making off with some valuable antiquities.”
“So Lady Dayle tells me! I was quite amazed, and a little thrilled, actually.” She smiled brightly at his reddening countenance. “You give me hope, you see.”
“Hope?” he asked, and his voice sounded only slightly strangled.
“Indeed. For if a quiet scholar like you can find himself embroiled in such an adventure, then perhaps there is hope for a simple girl like me as well.”
It was a struggle, she could tell, but still he retained his expression of bland interest. Curse him.
“Do you crave adventure, Miss Beecham?” he asked.
“Not adventure, precisely.”
“Travel perhaps? A flock of admirers?” He was regaining his equilibrium, fast. “Or perhaps your simple tastes only crave dessert?” He flagged down a passing footman with a tray of pastries.
Lily had to suppress a smile. This oh-so-polite battle of wit and words was by far the most fun she had had in ages. She eyed the footman and decided to take the battle to the next level. She selected a particularly rich looking fruit-filled tart. “Travel,” she mused. “That would be delightful. But since I have it on good authority that I am of no age or situation conducive to easy arrangements, I suppose I must wait until I am older.” She raised her tart in salute. “And stouter.”
Her eyes locked with his while she took a large bite, only to gradually close in ecstasy. She chewed, sighed and savored. “Oh, I must tell your mother to try one—the burnt orange cream topping is divine!” Breathing deep, she held her breath for several long seconds before slowly exhaling. She opened languid eyes, taking care to keep them half hooded as she glanced again at Mr. Alden.
And promptly forgot to take a second bite. That had done it. At last she had cracked his polite façade. He stared, the green of his eyes nearly obliterated by pupils dilated with hunger. It wasn’t the tart that he hungered for, either. His gaze was fixed very definitely on the modest décolletage of her gown.
“So if travel must be a delayed gratification,” he said hoarsely, then paused to clear his throat. “What will you substitute, Miss Beecham?”
REVIEWS
4 1/2 stars! The allure Deb Marlowe’s Her Cinderella Season is apparent from page one and continues as we immerse ourselves in the story of Jack and Lily. . .Run out and pick up Her Cinderella Season and sit back and prepare to be entertained. Deb Marlowe provides us with another pleasurable read.
—Debby Guyette, www.cataromance.com
The sequel to AN IMPROPER ARISTOCRAT, HER CINDERELLA SEASON is a lively, entertaining Regency tale about two people who despite their initial meeting, change either’s lives. The search for the violent, unpredictable Batiste brings the couple together as Lily comes to realize Jack’s motives are honorable. Secondary characters almost fade into the background as Jack and Lily grow closer. There’s ample romance and plenty of adventure and surprises.
Don’t miss this well written, enjoyable book!
–Jani Brooks, Romance Reviews Today
Deb Marlowe is a good storyteller and her characters always leave me happy to have spent time with them . . . a sweet taste of Regency love.
–Cybil Solyn, Rakehell
Marlowe writes a sensual, emotional and poignant love story.
–Joan Hammond, Romantic Times
4 1/2 stars! The allure Deb Marlowe’s Her Cinderella Season is apparent from page one and continues as we immerse ourselves in the story of Jack and Lily. . .Run out and pick up Her Cinderella Season and sit back and prepare to be entertained. Deb Marlowe provides us with another pleasurable read.
—Debby Guyette, www.cataromance.com
The sequel to AN IMPROPER ARISTOCRAT, HER CINDERELLA SEASON is a lively, entertaining Regency tale about two people who despite their initial meeting, change either’s lives. The search for the violent, unpredictable Batiste brings the couple together as Lily comes to realize Jack’s motives are honorable. Secondary characters almost fade into the background as Jack and Lily grow closer. There’s ample romance and plenty of adventure and surprises.
Don’t miss this well written, enjoyable book!
–Jani Brooks, Romance Reviews Today
Deb Marlowe is a good storyteller and her characters always leave me happy to have spent time with them . . . a sweet taste of Regency love.
–Cybil Solyn, Rakehell
Marlowe writes a sensual, emotional and poignant love story.
–Joan Hammond, Romantic Times