The Jilter - Archer, Kate

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Résumé :
A Cautious Lady and a Courageous Lord Six highly placed matrons mourn their lack of daughters until they devise a scheme to launch eligible girls in need of assistance, and so The Society of Sponsoring Ladies is born. Lady Prudence Landry, only daughter of the Earl of Copeland, has been besieged by Lord Luckstone. He has told the neighborhood that they are engaged and he attempts admittance to the house daily. She never agreed to such a thing and she and her elderly father have all but barricaded themselves inside. When there seems nowhere to turn, the earl sends an urgent message to his cousin, Lady Featherstone. Lady Featherstone is baffled by Lord Luckstone, but there is nothing she likes so much as a mystery. She sets off for Kent with the redoubtable Lady Heathway, determined to bring Lady Prudence to London. It is finally her turn to act as mama to a charming young lady. Ambrose Thorpe, Marquess of Ryland, is larger than life and the founder of the Society for Advancing Criminal Knowledge. The ton believes the lord merely wishes to assist the crown, but he has another reason for involving himself in England's underbelly-long ago, someone murdered his father for a famed diamond the lord never had in his possession. Lady Featherstone is one of his longstanding members and when she summons him to the earl's estate, he promptly answers the call. With the help of Lord Ryland, Lady Prudence has left Lord Luckstone behind in Kent. She has also learned a few things about her inclinations, thanks to her recent harassment at the hands of a gentleman. As she thinks of her future, she's decided she will only wed a very mild man. She will never allow herself to feel overcome or run over again. Lord Ryland may be many things, but mild has never been on the list. A Series of Worthy Young Ladies The Meddler The Sprinter The Undaunted The Champion The Jilter The Regal...

Biographie:
By the time I was eleven, my Irish Nana and I had formed a book club of sorts. On a timetable only known to herself, Nana would grab her blackthorn walking stick and steam down to the local Woolworth's. There, she would buy the latest Barbara Cartland romance, hurry home to read it accompanied by viciously strong wine, (Wild Irish Rose, if you're wondering) and then pass the book on to me. Though I was not particularly interested in real boys yet, I was very interested in the gentlemen in those stories-daring, bold, and often enraging and unaccountable. After my Barbara Cartland phase, I went on to Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen and so many other gifted authors blessed with the ability to bring the Georgian and Regency eras to life.I would like nothing more than to time travel back to the Regency (and time travel back to my twenties as long as we're going somewhere) to take my chances at a ball. Who would take the first? Who would escort me into supper? What sort of meaningful looks would be exchanged? I would hope, having made the trip, to encounter a gentleman who would give me a very hard time. He ought to be vexatious in the extreme, and worth every vexation, to make the journey worthwhile.I most likely won't be able to work out the time travel gambit, so I will content myself with writing stories of adventure and romance in my beloved time period. There are lives to be created, marvelous gowns to wear, jewels to don, instant attractions that inevitably come with a difficulty, and hearts to break before putting them back together again. In traditional Regency fashion, my stories are clean-the action happens in a drawing room, rather than a bedroom.As I muse over what will happen next to my H and h, and wish I were there with them, I will occasionally remind myself that it's also nice to have a microwave, Netflix, cheese popcorn, and steaming hot showers.

Sommaire:
By the time I was eleven, my Irish Nana and I had formed a book club of sorts. On a timetable only known to herself, Nana would grab her blackthorn walking stick and steam down to the local Woolworth's. There, she would buy the latest Barbara Cartland romance, hurry home to read it accompanied by viciously strong wine, (Wild Irish Rose, if you're wondering) and then pass the book on to me. Though I was not particularly interested in real boys yet, I was very interested in the gentlemen in those stories-daring, bold, and often enraging and unaccountable. After my Barbara Cartland phase, I went on to Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen and so many other gifted authors blessed with the ability to bring the Georgian and Regency eras to life.I would like nothing more than to time travel back to the Regency (and time travel back to my twenties as long as we're going somewhere) to take my chances at a ball. Who would take the first? Who would escort me into supper? What sort of meaningful looks would be exchanged? I would hope, having made the trip, to encounter a gentleman who would give me a very hard time. He ought to be vexatious in the extreme, and worth every vexation, to make the journey worthwhile.I most likely won't be able to work out the time travel gambit, so I will content myself with writing stories of adventure and romance in my beloved time period. There are lives to be created, marvelous gowns to wear, jewels to don, instant attractions that inevitably come with a difficulty, and hearts to break before putting them back together again. In traditional Regency fashion, the action happens in a drawing room, rather than a bedroom.As I muse over what will happen next to my H and h, and wish I were there with them, I will occasionally remind myself that it's also nice to have a microwave, Netflix, cheese popcorn, and steaming hot showers....