Cecilia Grant - [Blackshear Family 03]

A Gentleman Undone

“Grant’s powerful, emotionally intense and highly sensual romance will mesmerize readers yearning for an unconventional story and dynamic characters. The driven protagonists and intriguing details of a Regency world outside the aristocracy and marriage mart lure readers to keep turning pages.”

—RT Book Reviews
(4½ stars)

“Exquisite … I’m really enjoying this author’s voice and look forward to more.”

—M
AND
S
CHREINER
,
USA Today

“With her second impeccably written, exquisitely sensual historical, Grant proves she suffers from no sophomore slump as she once again shakes up the staid Regency historical world with her refreshingly unconventional, multilayered characters and richly emotional storytelling style.”

—
Booklist
(starred review)

“With exquisite prose, breathtaking sensuality, and stunning emotional insight, Grant spins a poignant, compelling story of two deeply troubled protagonists who need to come to terms with who they are, forgive themselves, and learn to love. A brilliant addition to the growing number of romances featuring uncommon characters, this story takes fans for a walk on the wilder side of Regency London and will have fans anxious for the next series installment.”

—Library Journal

“A charmingly risqué protagonist … begs the reader to turn the page.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Luscious, erotic, and emotionally intense … Cecilia Grant is a fresh, unforgettable voice in historical romance.”

—M
ADELINE
H
UNTER
,
New York Times
bestselling author

A Lady Awakened

“Elegantly written, emotionally powerful … with a compelling combination of exquisitely nuanced characters and lusciously sensual romance. Sweet, poignant, and completely satisfying,
A Lady Awakened
is a romance to treasure.”

—Booklist
(starred review)

“Grant details Regency country life beautifully, with a firm and respectful hand, and the subtle yet engrossing courtship is enchanting and gratifying as it transforms these two strong-minded and very unlikely lovers.”

—Publishers Weekly

“This intriguing debut blends erotic themes into a plotline that has been used before, but never in this way. A desperate heroine, a wickedly sexy hero, an unexpected passion and strong storytelling along with compelling characterization mark Grant as one to watch.”

—RT Book Reviews

“From the characters to the language to the love scenes to the plot, so much came together unexpectedly and beautifully. I loved this novel.”

—J
ANINE
, Dear Author

“I’m in love with this author’s voice. It is hard to explain why I love her style of writing so much, but as I read I didn’t want to miss a single word.”

—USA Today

“A marvelous gem of a book … I loved it!”

—M
ARY
B
ALOGH
,
New York Times
bestselling author

“If you only read one debut this year, this is the one to read. Incredibly sexy, surprisingly sweet. I loved
A Lady Awakened
!”

—E
LOISA
J
AMES
,
New York Times
bestselling author

London, February 1817

D
ISCOMFITURE, FOR
all that it felt like a constant companion, never failed to find new and inventive guises in which to appear.

“I’d like to take out
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
, the first volume.” Her sister’s voice soared into every corner of the lending library, all but rattling the bay window in whose alcove Kate had taken refuge. “I’m engaged at present in a work of my own that will build on Miss Wollstonecraft’s foundation. Where she restricted herself to theory, however, and broad societal prescription, I address myself directly to the individual woman of today, arming her with practical methods by which she may begin even now to assert her rights.”

She wouldn’t speak of
bodily emancipation
in such a setting, would she? Kate held her breath. Surely even Viola had better sense than to—

“In particular I introduce the idea that women will never achieve true emancipation until we have absolute governance of our own persons, within marriage as well as without.”

A stout young man, sitting at the long table nearest
Kate’s alcove, looked up sharply from his book. An elderly woman seated on the opposite side of the room did the same. So, no doubt, did every peacefully reading patron in this establishment. Vi’s was a voice that commanded attention, all crisp consonants and breath support, exactly the voice you’d expect from the granddaughter of an earl.

Or the daughter of an actress.

The young man’s table was scattered with volumes, all perused and discarded by patrons who hadn’t bothered to return them to the desk. Kate swiped one up and bent her head over a random page, to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.
To Elizabeth it appeared that had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success …

Pride and Prejudice
. That single line was enough to set Kate’s bones vibrating like a struck tuning fork. Surely it had been written for her, this tale of a young woman struggling under the incessant mortifications thrust upon her by a family that did not know the meaning of discretion.

She turned a page. No more sound from the library’s other end; the clerk must have gone to fetch the requested volume, and to escape any more discussion of practical methods for asserting a woman’s rights. In the book, meanwhile, the party at Netherfield dragged dismally on, plaguing Elizabeth with the disagreeable attentions of Mr. Collins and the cold silence of the Bingley sisters and Mr. Darcy.

Of course Mr. Darcy had already begun to take note of Elizabeth’s fine eyes by this point in the story, and Mr. Bingley was so smitten with Jane that he never noticed half the graceless things the Bennet family did. Could
there really be such men in the world? And if so, where did they reside?

“There you are.” Viola stood at the other side of the book-scattered table,
Vindication
volume in hand, peering at her through those plain glass spectacles she always insisted on wearing in public. “Are you ready to go?”

The stout man glanced up again, no doubt recognizing Vi’s voice. He sent a quick look from one lady to the other, piecing together their relation.

And then he saw Kate, properly. Though he’d been sitting no great distance away, a mere half turn of his head necessary to bring her into view, his eyes apparently had not landed on her until now.

A dozen or more variations she’d seen of this response, on too many occasions to count. Some men managed it without looking witless. Most, unfortunately, did not.

The man’s features stalled, then veered away from the jolly smirk they’d been forming in favor of a glazed-eyed reverence. He blushed, and bowed his head once more over his book.

Not terribly useful, the admiration of such a man. Still, it gave a girl hope. If she could one day drive a marquess, for example, into a like slack-jawed stupor—and why should she not? Title notwithstanding, a marquess was a man with the same susceptibilities as any other—then she might make something of the triumph.

“Novels and more novels.” Her sister, indifferent to such small drama, had begun turning over the discarded volumes on the table. “I suppose nobody wants to read what might actually improve his mind.” The man abruptly closed his book—doubtless a novel—and shoved it away as though he’d only just noticed its offending presence in his hands. His gaze averted, his cheeks pink as fresh-butchered pork, he pushed to his feet and fled to some other sector of the room.

“Yes, I’m ready.” Kate’s own voice had all the patrician clarity of Viola’s, though she aimed it for shorter distances and always took care to stir in a bit of sugar. “Help me gather up these books. They oughtn’t to be left lying about.”

How long could a marquess, once stunned, be counted on to remain in that state? Could he procure a special license and marry her that same day, before his first rabid infatuation receded to the point where he might think of meeting her family? Or maybe she’d do better to get him out of London altogether, that he might not encounter any friends who would feel it their duty to knock him back to his senses. She’d have to count on sustaining his state of stupefaction, in that case, for the length of the journey from Mayfair to Gretna Green.

Difficult and unlikely. But not impossible, necessarily; at least not for her. Stupefaction was her stock-in-trade, and she would not stoop to the tedious false modesty of pretending not to know it.

The library clerk, when she stopped at his desk, accepted her armload of stray books with an effusion of gratitude such as no plain-faced lady would ever have received for the same task, and fetched her the other two volumes of
Pride and Prejudice
. She signed her name, paid her pennies, and emerged with her sister into the chill February afternoon.

“You’ve read that already” was Viola’s pronouncement on ascertaining what books she held.