WHAT A LADY REQUIRES – On sale March 31, 2015
About the book –
Perfect for fans of Julia Quinn, Eloisa James, and Sabrina Jeffries, Ashlyn Macnamara’s blazing hot novel tells the story of mismatched newlyweds who discover a simmering connection.
Unlike every other proper young lady, Miss Emma Jennings views marrying well as little more than a means to an end. Such a merger would provide her industrious father with social credibility, and Emma with a chunk of her vast inheritance. Emma’s practical views are shattered, however, when her father ties her to the fabulously handsome ne’er-do-well Rowan Battencliffe, a man she loathes on sight—from the smile that promises all manner of wickedness to the way he ogles her with those striking blue eyes.
Deep in debt, especially to his wine merchant, Rowan figures the sooner he gets his finances in order, the sooner he can go back to doing what he does best: burning through ridiculous sums of cash. Which is why Rowan agrees to marry the merchant’s daughter, a prim and proper woman with delightful curves and an ample dowry. But Emma seems to think it’s her business to reform him! Their marriage is a tinderbox—and it’s just too tempting to resist playing with fire.
“Ladies.” He swept into a bow that wouldn’t have been out of place in the royal palace, but for the way he wavered on the way back up. “You can never miss the chance to greet too many ladies.”
The force of his charm crashed up against the cliff face that was Aunt Augusta. “Have we been introduced?” she asked in her iciest tones.
“My apologies.” He stuffed a hand into his top coat and produced a card, hesitating between Aunt Augusta and the butler for a moment, before finally passing the bit of cardboard off to Grundy. “Yes, I ought to have handed this over sooner. Rowan Battencliffe at your service.”
He tucked his hand into his waistcoat and bowed his head once more. “And now I’m afraid I must leave you all. Duty calls, I fear. My brother asked me here, and I’m late, but I’m sure he’ll not have noticed.”
Grundy cleared his throat and gestured toward the passage. “I believe you’ll find your brother already in the study with Mr. Jennings.”
“Yes, and I do hope they’ve saved me some claret, or I may have to start straight in on the port.”
No sooner had he shuffled out of the morning room than Aunt Augusta closed the door. Turning, she set her back to the oak panels, as if she might physically prevent another intrusion. “Well, I never.”
Uriana ducked her head behind her embroidery frame. “Shocking breach of manners. Pity, in one so handsome.”
“Indeed.” As much as she hated to agree with her aunt and cousin, Emma could simply find no excuse for the display. “And society would claim him as one of our betters.”
Goodness, she sounded as prim as Miss Conklin, but her former schoolmistress would never have dared utter a word against someone higher up the social scale. In the complicated patchwork of fashionable London, the brother of an earl beat the daughter of a wine merchant anytime, and any number of society ladies would pounce on the opportunity to remind Emma of that fact. They’d pounce politely, naturally, never raising their voices, but their censure would be all too clear behind the shield of their simpering smiles. None of them ever let Emma Jennings forget for long that, despite her fortune, she was tainted with the stench of trade. On her, it must smell slightly musty with a hint of vinegar—like the inside of an old wine barrel.
About the author –
Ashlyn lives in the wilds of suburbia outside Montreal with her husband and two teenaged daughters. When not writing, she looks for other excuses to neglect the housework, among them knitting, reading and wasting time on the internet in the guise of doing research.
There is a $25 e-Gift Card, Loveswept Mug & Nail Polish up for grabs – go and check it out right over here: a Rafflecopter giveaway