All of London is abuzz over the imminent arrival of Wulfric Bedwyn, the reclusive, cold-as-ice Duke of Bewcastle, at the most glittering social event of the season. Some whisper of a tragic love affair. Others say he is so aloof and passionless that not even the greatest beauty could capture his attention. But on this dazzling afternoon, one woman did catch the duke's eye-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.
Balogh goes hardcover with the culmination of the Bedwyn family saga. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.Text -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
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1 . Absorbing Read
Posted April 09, 2010 by Linda , ButlerI really enjoyed the whole family and it was interesting saving the head of the family for last . The Duke was a character that I really enjoyed because he was usually so stern and cold everyone thought but to read of his stuggles to convince this women to become his wife kept the pages turning.
December 31, 2003
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Excerpt from Slightly Dangerous by Mary Balogh
"Your cheeks are looking alarmingly flushed, Christine," her mother remarked, setting her embroidery down in her lap the better to observe her daughter. "And your eyes are very bright. I hope you are not coming down with a fever."
Christine laughed. "I have been at the vicarage, playing with the children," she explained. "Alexander wanted to play cricket, but after a few minutes it became clear that Marianne could not catch a ball and Robin could not hit one. We played hide-and-seek instead, though Alexander thought it was somewhat beneath his dignity now that he is nine years old until I asked him how his poor aunt must feel, then, at the age of twenty-nine. I was it all the time, of course. We had great fun until Charles poked his head out of the study window and asked us--rhetorically, I suppose--how he was ever to get his sermon finished with all the noise we were making. So Hazel gave us all a glass of lemonade and shooed the children off to the parlor to read quietly, poor things, and I came home."
"I suppose," her eldest sister, Eleanor, said, looking up from her book and observing Christine over the tops of her spectacles, "you did not wear your bonnet while you frolicked with our niece and nephews. That is not just a flush. It is a sunburn."
"How can one poke one's head into small hiding places if it is swollen to twice its size with a bonnet " Christine asked reasonably. She began to arrange the flowers she had cut from the garden on her way inside, in a vase of water she had brought with her from the kitchen.
"And your hair looks like a bird's nest," Eleanor added.
"That is soon corrected." Christine rumpled her short curls with both hands and laughed. "There. Is that better "
Eleanor shook her head before returning her attention to her book--but not before smiling.